Chapter Four — The Shadow That Lingers
I didn’t open my window the next morning.
I couldn’t.
Not after what I saw last night.
I stayed curled up on the bed, my knees pulled close to my chest. My hands rested on the blanket, but even with all the layers, I couldn’t stop the cold that crawled over my skin.
The shadow.
I had seen it.
I hadn’t dreamed it. I knew I hadn’t.
It was there — standing at the edge of the trees. Watching me.
And now… it was gone.
But the feeling wasn’t.
The feeling stayed.
Like eyes were still on me, even now.
---
Mira came in with breakfast, but I didn’t touch it.
She frowned when she saw me sitting on the bed.
“My lady… are you unwell?” she asked gently.
I shook my head. “I’m fine.”
But I wasn’t.
I felt anything but fine.
She placed the tray on the table and walked over to me. She sat on the edge of the bed, her hand resting softly on my arm.
“You look pale,” she said softly. “Did you sleep?”
I didn’t answer right away. I didn’t want her to know how bad it really was.
“Mira…” I whispered. “Has anyone… been near the mansion at night?”
She blinked, her eyes narrowing slightly. “What do you mean?”
“Anyone… outside. In the trees. Watching.”
Mira stared at me for a long moment.
Then her face softened. “Did you see something?”
I opened my mouth. I wanted to say yes. I wanted to tell her everything — the shadow, the feeling, the way it vanished before my eyes.
But something inside me held me back.
Fear.
What if she thought I was losing my mind?
What if… I really was?
I lowered my eyes. “I thought I saw something… but it’s nothing.”
Mira gave my arm a gentle squeeze. “It’s been a hard few days, my lady. With all the rumors and fear in the air… it’s no surprise you’re feeling uneasy.”
She stood up and smoothed down her dress. “Stay inside. You’re safe here. No one would dare come near this house.”
Safe.
That word again.
The same word people used when they didn’t want to face the truth.
---
Mira left soon after, and I sat alone for a long time.
I kept telling myself it was all in my head.
I kept repeating Mira’s words over and over.
But deep down, I didn’t believe them.
I couldn’t.
Because when I finally stood up and walked to the window…
I felt it again.
That heavy, crawling feeling… like something watching me from the shadows.
---
The day passed slowly.
I tried to read. I tried to write. I even tried to sleep.
But no matter what I did… the feeling followed me.
I stayed in my room the entire time, only stepping out when Mira came to check on me.
I didn’t eat. I didn’t speak.
I just… waited.
For what, I didn’t know.
But I felt it coming closer with every hour.
---
When night fell, I lit every candle in my room.
I pushed the chair against the door. I even moved the table in front of it.
It felt foolish… but I did it anyway.
I sat on the bed, hugging my knees again, staring at the flames.
I told myself I wouldn’t look at the window.
I wouldn’t look for shadows.
But I couldn’t help it.
I glanced once… twice… again… and again.
The window stared back at me — dark, silent, empty.
But empty didn’t mean safe.
---
It was past midnight when I heard it.
A soft sound.
Like a whisper against the glass.
I froze.
I stared at the window… waiting… holding my breath.
The sound came again.
A faint tap.
So soft… I could have imagined it.
But I hadn’t.
I knew I hadn’t.
I stood slowly, my legs shaking beneath me.
I took one step toward the window.
Then another.
I reached out… my hand trembling… and pulled the curtain aside.
Nothing.
There was nothing there.
The garden below was empty. The trees stood still. The wind didn’t even move the branches.
I pressed my hand against the glass, leaning forward.
Was I losing my mind?
Had fear taken over me so much… that I was hearing things?
---
Then I saw it.
Not outside.
But on the glass.
A handprint.
Clear. Pale.
Pressed against the window from the outside.
My heart stopped.
I stumbled back, gasping for air.
I stared at the handprint — wide, strong fingers, pressed flat against the glass.
It was real.
It was there.
But… how?
How could someone have touched the window?
I was on the second floor.
There was no balcony. No ledge.
No way to reach the window.
Unless…
They climbed.
Or… unless they weren’t just a man.
---
I stared at it until my eyes burned.
And then… slowly… the handprint faded.
Like it was never there.
---
I didn’t sleep that night.
I sat in the corner of the room, wrapped in a blanket, holding a candle in my hand.
Waiting.
Listening.
Fearing.
But nothing came.
Nothing moved.
The shadow didn’t return.
But I knew…
It wasn’t over.
---
At sunrise, I walked slowly to the window again.
The handprint was gone.
The glass was clean.
I touched it softly.
Cold. Smooth.
Empty.
I pressed my forehead against it and closed my eyes.
What was happening to me?
Was I going mad?
Or was something really out there… waiting… watching… choosing the perfect moment to come closer?
I didn’t know which answer scared me more.
---
I thought about calling Mira. I thought about telling her everything.
But I didn’t.
Because deep inside… I felt something I couldn’t explain.
A voice th
at whispered…
No one can help you now.
---
And when I finally opened my eyes…
I saw it.
Far beyond the garden.
At the edge of the trees.
The shadow.
Back again.
Standing still.
Watching me.
And this time…
It didn’t fade away.
It raised its hand…
And pointed straight at me.