Liam’s P.O.V.
The mont she spoke my na, my body went rigid. My heartbeat pounded in my ears, drowning out the quiet hum of conversation in the café. The rag slipped from my fingers, hitting the floor with a soft plop. I barely registered it.
She took a step forward, her silver eyes locked onto with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine. "Liam," she repeated, her voice thick with sothing I couldn’t quite place. Desperation? Relief? Possession?
I swallowed hard, my body tensing instinctively.
I barely had a second to react before she hurled herself at , her arms locking around my waist in a crushing grip. Her face pressed into my chest, her body trembling with raw, broken sobs.
She slled of sweat, her clothes damp—like she had been walking for miles. Or maybe running.
Her tears seeped through my sweater as she clung to like I was the last solid thing in a world slipping away.
"I thought—I thought I lost you," she choked out, her voice splintering. "I searched everywhere, I—"
My entire body went rigid.
What the hell?
She pulled back slightly, blinking through the tears, her eyes searching mine as if trying to find sothing—recognition, maybe.
I just stared, my mind racing. Had she lost it? Or—sohow—did she actually know ?
God, I was so confused.
When I finally found my voice, it ca out softer than I intended, almost uncertain.
"Do I know you?"
Her brows furrowed, and for a second, she looked... hurt? But the emotion was gone in an instant, replaced by a manic sort of determination. "Liam..." her voice cracked. "It’s . You don’t rember ?" she asked, stepping closer. Her presence felt heavy, like a storm rolling in, sothing electric in the air.
"No," I said firmly, taking a step back. "Should I?"
She let out a sharp breath, exasperated. "Liam, it’s . Mai Blackwood. I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Your parents—" she hesitated, eyes flickering with sothing, sothing I couldn’t place—"they’re worried sick."
I stared at her, suspicion curling tight in my stomach. She looked ragged, like she hadn’t slept in days, and there was sothing about her—sothing in her posture, her gaze—that made every instinct in scream danger.
I shook my head. "I think you’ve got the wrong person," I said, more forcefully this ti. "My na isn’t Liam, it’s Noah. Go away."
Her expression darkened, lips pressing into a thin line. "Liam—"
"He said he doesn’t know you."
Becky’s voice cut through the tension like a blade. I turned to see her standing a few feet away, arms crossed, eyes narrowed at Mai. Becky wasn’t exactly intimidating, but she had this no-nonsense attitude that made people listen.
Mai’s gaze snapped to Becky, her expression shifting into sothing venomous. It was the kind of look you gave soone right before a fight. Like Becky had personally offended her just by existing.
"Who are you?" Becky asked, eyebrows raised.
Mai straightened, her expression smoothing over. "I’m Liam’s best friend," she said, voice calm but firm. "And I’ve been looking for him for over a month."
Becky shot a skeptical glance, then turned back to Mai. "If he was missing, wouldn’t there be proof? Flyers? A police report? Sothing?"
Mai’s jaw clenched, and with a huff, she reached into her bag and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. She held it up for us to see—a missing person’s poster.
I felt my breath hitch as my own face stared back at . The picture was old—probably months old. I looked younger, happier. Unburdened. It was unsettling to see myself like that.
"This is him," Mai said, almost triumphantly. "I was the one who put this out. I’ve been searching everywhere."
Becky took the poster and examined it, her expression unreadable. "Okay, this is sothing," she admitted. "But do you have anything else? Sothing more concrete?"
Mai’s confidence wavered. "I have pictures of us together."
My heart leapt at that. If she had proof, then maybe... maybe I really did know her.
She reached into her pocket, then froze. Her silver eyes widened in panic. Quickly, she patted down her other pockets, then ripped open her bag, rummaging through it with growing desperation.
"Where is it?" she muttered, her breath coming faster. "I had it—"
I took a step back, unease settling in.
"I lost my phone," she announced, voice laced with frustration. "But I’m telling the truth!"
Becky sighed, handing the poster back. "Look, maybe you are. Maybe you aren’t. But if Liam is going with you, we’re getting the police involved. And I’m coming too."
Mai’s head snapped up. "No."
Becky frowned. "Why not?"
Mai hesitated, her eyes darting away. "The security at ho wouldn’t let you through."
"What are you talking about?" Becky demanded.
Mai shook her head. "I can’t explain."
That was enough for . My gut had been screaming at since the second she walked in.
"No way," I said firmly. "You need to leave. Now. Or I call the cops."
Mai’s expression crumpled, sothing like pain flashing in her eyes. But I ignored it. I had been deceived before, and I wouldn’t be again.
I turned and walked away, forcing myself not to look back.
But as I reached the door, I heard her whisper the na she kept calling —Liam. A plea. A prayer.
I didn’t stop.
For an entire week, she haunted like a ghost that refused to be laid to rest. No matter where I went, she was there—watching, waiting, calling out the na Liam like it was my na, and like she knew .
The first ti was at the market.
I was picking up so groceries for Becky when I felt it—that prickle at the back of my neck. I turned, and there she was. A girl with silver eyes, standing at the edge of the crowd, staring straight at . Creepy isn’t it?
"Liam!" she called, rushing forward. "You have to listen to !"
I stiffened. "How many tis have I told you to go away? I don’t know you."
Her eyes flashed with sothing—sadness? Hurt? "Yes, you know ! I’m your best friend, Liam! Your parents—they’re looking for you!"
My stomach twisted, a slow, creeping unease settling in. "Yeah, right. I bet you’re with those weird n who wanted to sell . I’m not falling for that again."
She reached for my arm, and I yanked it back.
"Please," she begged. "You don’t understand. Sothing happened to you. Eldur, he—"
"Yeah, no." I took a step back, gripping my shopping bag tighter. "I don’t know what your deal is, but stay away from ."
I turned and walked off, my pulse unsteady.
But she didn’t stop.
The next day, she found at the bookstore. I was scanning a shelf when I saw her reflection in the glass window.
"You again," I muttered, already irritated.
"Liam, just hear out." She stepped closer, lowering her voice. "You’re in danger. You don’t belong here, you belong with your kind."
I scoffed. "Oh, great. Now you’re upgrading from ’long-lost best friend’ to ’mysterious prophecy girl.’ What’s next? Are you going to tell I sprout horns everyti I sneeze?"
She looked frustrated, her hands clenching at her sides. "This isn’t a joke!"
"It is to ." I turned back to my book. "Now get lost before I call security."
She exhaled sharply but didn’t move. "You don’t understand. Eldur erased your mories."
That made pause.
For a second.
Then I shook my head, grabbed my book, and walked away.
But she still wasn’t done.
By the ti I saw her in the woods, I was more than creeped out—I was pissed.
"You have got to be kidding ," I said, spinning around to face her. "Are you stalking ?"
"Liam—"
"No. Enough." I pointed a finger at her. "I don’t know you. I don’t want to know you. If you co near again, I’m calling the cops."
She hesitated, sothing flickering across her face—hurt? No. Sothing deeper. Sothing almost... resigned.
Then she whispered, "He really did a number on you, huh?"
I clenched my jaw. "Get. Lost."
For a mont, she just stood there, silver eyes filled with sothing I couldn’t na.
Then she turned and walked away, disappearing into the trees.
North, the ever-present voice in my head, finally spoke after the silence stretched too long.
"She is persistent."
"She’s insane," I muttered.
"Or desperate."
"Sa thing."
The breaking point ca that evening. I dragged myself into my bedroom, rubbing my temple, the headache she had given still throbbing behind my eyes.
And then—I froze.
She was there.
Sitting on my bed.
My heart slamd against my ribs, a pulse of pure terror roaring in my ears. I nearly stumbled back. What the hell—?
"How the hell did you get in here?!" My voice was sharp, but my throat felt tight.
Mai stood, her movents quick, restless. Her eyes wild. "I need you to listen—"
"Get out."
"Liam, please—"
I was already reaching for my phone, fingers numb with adrenaline. "I’m calling the cops."
She didn’t flinch. Instead, she took a step forward. "They won’t help you."
I froze.
"They don’t understand what’s coming for you," she continued, her voice low, steady. "But I do."
A shiver crawled down my spine.
"You don’t know ," I whispered, my voice barely holding steady. "And I don’t know you. So get. Out."
Mai held my gaze for a long, heavy mont. Then, just when I thought she might actually listen—she smiled.
"I’ll make you rember."
And then, right before my eyes, she vanished.
Gone.
The sight was so impossible, so terrifying, that my knees buckled. I collapsed onto the bed, my whole body trembling.
"North?"
"Yes?"
"We’re screwed, aren’t we?"
A long pause. Then—
"Very."
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