Whispered Shadows

Chapter Five

Threads of the Past

Ryder

The storm has soaked me to the bone, but I barely feel it. My focus is on Noa—her pale face, trembling hands, and the way her voice cracks when she tells me what happened. She's scared. More than scared. And she should be.

Because I am too.

I've dealt with my share of psychos. People who thrive on chaos, feed off fear and enjoy tormenting their victims like it's a game. But this feels different. It's personal. Whoever's behind this knows Noa. Knows Gia. And now they know I'm involved, which raises the stakes.

Noa's pacing now, wringing her hands as she talks. It's something she used to do when she was nervous. I remember all the times she would pace Gia's room back home, her hands would flair like they are now.

I listen, trying to catch every detail she might not realize is important.

"The first note... it wasn't like this one," she's saying, her voice tight. "It wasn't as direct. It felt more... like a warning."

"And this one?" I ask, holding up the crumpled scrap she handed me when I arrived.

Her icy blue eyes dart to it, her shoulders tensing. "It was threatening. Like they're mad I'm here. Like I've crossed some line I didn't even know existed."

I nod, setting the note down on the desk and pulling out my phone. I snap a picture of it, then bag the original in a plastic evidence sleeve from my pocket. The handwriting is erratic, and jagged, but it's not rushed. This person knew exactly what they wanted to say.

"Did you touch it much?" I ask.

She shakes her head. "Only when I picked it up. Why?"

"Fingerprints," I say simply. "Unlikely, but worth checking."

Her lips press into a thin line, and she hugs herself, as though trying to hold herself together. "Ryder, who does this? Who leaves notes like this and smears things on windows?"

"Someone who wants you scared," I say, keeping my tone calm and even. "Someone who wants control."

The truth is, I'm piecing it together as I go. Every instinct I have tells me this is connected to Gia, but I can't say it out loud. Not yet. Noa's already teetering on the edge, and the last thing she needs is me confirming her worst fear.

I move to the window, examining the pane closely. The rain's washed away whatever was on it, but I know it's not the first time this person has left a mark. Gia's case had similar details. Notes. Signs. Messages that didn't make sense until it was too late.

"Do you remember if Gia ever mentioned someone following her?" I ask.

Noa stops pacing and turns to me, her brow furrowing. "No. I mean, she was... private about some things, but I don't think she ever felt unsafe. At least not that she told me."

I nod, filing the information away. "What about her social circle? Did she have any friends besides you and—"

"Besides you," she interrupts, crossing her arms. "Not really. Gia wasn't the kind of person to let people in easily."

The edge in her tone isn't lost on me, and I know where it's coming from. Noa blames me for not doing more when it comes to Gia's disappearance. Maybe she doesn't say it outright, but it's there, hanging in the air between us. And honestly? She's not wrong.

I did all this to figure out more about Gia's case, the whole one page the ignorant cops had, yet I have nothing.

"I'll need a list of anyone she mentioned," I say, trying to keep things professional. "Even if it seems unimportant."