Chapter 1 :
The train hissed to a stop like it was sighing for her.
Rhea stepped onto the platform, suitcase in hand, heart heavy with the weight she didn’t pack. The city was louder than she remembered—horns blaring, people rushing, and neon signs flickering like they were trying to wink secrets.
She told herself this was it. A new start. No one here knew her name, and that’s exactly how she wanted it.
But as she walked past the graffiti-stained walls and unfamiliar cafés, her phone buzzed.
Unknown Number:
“You thought you could run?”
Her fingers froze. No contact. No name. But the chill crawling up her spine was unmistakably familiar.
Chapter 2 :
Rhea's grip tightened on the phone, her knuckles white. The message lingered on the screen like a bruise.
She looked around again.
Still no one.
The street was bustling—cars honking in the distance, people walking past with their heads down, music leaking from shopfronts—but it all felt… wrong. Like she was watching it from behind glass. Everyone moved, yet no one noticed her.
Was she the only one being watched? Or the only one awake in a dream full of sleepwalkers?
Her breath hitched. “Mom? Dad?” she called out again, louder this time.
Nothing.
And then—buzz.
"Hahaha, just as I thought. Looking for your parents. Cute."
Her stomach flipped.
They knew where she was. They were watching her.
She backed up against a brick wall, phone shaking in her hand. Her own reflection on the dark window beside her looked like someone else—a stranger who thought she could run.
Her thumbs trembled as she typed:
“Who are you? How did you get my number?”
The reply came instantly, like they were already waiting.
"You think I’d reveal myself that easily? Come on, Rhea. You should know me better."
Her throat went dry.
'Know me better...?'
There it was again—her past. Scratching at her new life like it had claws.
She exhaled sharply and whispered to herself, “Don’t panic. Just cool, darling.”
It sounded ridiculous out loud, but it gave her just enough strength to lift her chin.
She took a step into the crowd, but this time, every pair of eyes felt... focused.
Someone did know her.
And they were playing a game she thought she quit long ago.
Chapter 3 :
The next morning, the sun peeked through the curtains like nothing had happened.
Rhea sat by the window, sipping lukewarm coffee with sleep-heavy eyes. She had made up her mind—'no more replies. No attention. No fear. Just silence.'
She opened her messages, hovered over the contact, and blocked the number.
'There. Done.'
She tossed the phone onto the bed and let out a shaky breath.
“New city, new rules. No games,” she muttered.
Then—
BUZZ.
She froze.
The sound wasn’t from the bed. It was from her backpack.
Slowly, she pulled out her old, backup phone. The one no one should have access to.
"You thought you could ignore me? Cute. But you know I’m always one step ahead, right?"
Her heart skipped.
Different number. Different phone. Same voice behind the screen.
She stared at the message, willing herself to not type anything. Her fingers itched, but her gut screamed NO.
“The more I reply, the more sus it gets,” she whispered, half-joking to calm her nerves, half-knowing it was true.
But the silence didn’t help either.
Because another message came in.
"You’ve changed your number, your name, your hair… but not your habits, Rhea. You still flinch when you're scared. Like right now. 😏"
She dropped the phone.
Was someone watching her? Right now?
She quickly pulled the curtains shut, heart thudding like a drum in her chest.
This wasn’t just about her past anymore. This was personal. And whoever this was… they knew how to push.
Too well.
She paced her room like a trapped animal.
Curtains shut. Phone off. Breath shallow.
Still, the words echoed in her head:
'You still flinch when you're scared. Like right now.'
How would they know that?
Unless… they’d seen her flinch before.
Years ago.
In a place she swore she'd buried.
Her knees gave way and she sat on the floor, staring at a crack in the tile.
Chapter 4 : FLASHBACK
FLASHBACK — Three Years Ago
The music was loud.
The kind that made your chest vibrate. Flashing lights, drunken laughter. The party had spiraled, but no one cared. They were rich, reckless, and untouchable.
Except for her.
She wasn’t supposed to be there. She wasn’t invited.
But she was dared.
Rhea stood at the top of the abandoned hotel’s rooftop, bottle in hand, tears in her eyes. Below her, people were chanting. Someone was filming.
“Jump or confess, Rhea!” a girl’s voice had shouted.
“Tell them what you did to her!”
Rhea had frozen. Her secret—their secret—hung in the air like smoke.
And then it happened.
Someone fell.
Not her.
The other girl.
The crowd had screamed. Phones had dropped. Sirens had followed.
And Rhea?
She had run.
Rhea clutched her head as the memory clawed its way back.
That girl. That night.
They all thought it was an accident. Everyone except one person.
Someone who never forgot.
Someone who was watching her again.
The phone lit up.
'You remember now, don’t you? I never forget, Rhea. And I’m not done yet.'
She didn’t want to admit it aloud, but she knew the name that came to mind.
A name she had erased from her past.
“Ayla.”...
Final chapter: “The Rooftop, Again”
Rhea climbed the final steps to the rooftop. The same rooftop.
Three years later, and it hadn’t changed. Still crumbling. Still tall enough for secrets to fall and shatter.
The wind tugged at her coat like it wanted to stop her.
Her phone buzzed one last time.
“You finally came back. I was wondering when you’d face it.”
No name. Just a time. 9:47 PM.
The exact time of the fall.
And when she turned—
She saw her.
Ayla.
Not a ghost. Not a hallucination. Alive.
Her face was changed. Older. Colder. But those eyes—sharp, knowing, unforgiving—were exactly the same.
Rhea stepped forward. “You’re alive. All this time—why?”
Ayla smiled, slow and cruel. “Because I needed you to remember. I needed you to stop pretending it didn’t happen.”
“I never pushed you,” Rhea whispered.
“No. But you didn’t stop them either.”
Silence.
The weight of that night pressed down like the sky itself.
“I’m sorry,” Rhea said. Not to escape blame. Not to erase guilt. Just… sorry.
Ayla blinked. The tension broke.
She walked past Rhea without another word. No revenge. No forgiveness. Just done.
Rhea stood alone on the rooftop again.
She dropped her phone over the edge.
Watched it fall.
Maybe the past never lets go. But sometimes, you can let it go first.
THE END
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