Whispered Shadows

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Photographs

Noa

My fingers twitch, itching for something to do, something to hold on to. But there's nothing here to steady me. Just the photos on the walls, their eyes following me, haunting me.

I freeze, my breath catching in my throat.

It's not just any photo. It's the photo. The one Ryder and I found in the hotel room. The one I thought was a mistake or some kind of weird coincidence. But there it is again, pinned on the wall, enlarged, and staring back at me like it's taunting me.

I'm standing by the lake, the sunlight caught in my hair, my face turned toward the camera with that half-smile I always wear. It was taken a couple of months ago, just a regular Summer day. But now it feels like something else entirely. It was never a simple picture. Like it's always been leading somewhere. Leading here.

I swallow hard, my fingers trembling as I reach out to touch the wall. The air around me feels thick and charged like I'm walking through a dream. Or maybe a nightmare. My mind keeps running in circles, each thought colliding with the next, but I can't quite make sense of any of it.

Ryder says something, but I miss it. He wants to keep moving, but I can't.

"Ryder..." My voice is barely above a whisper as I call to him. My feet are glued to the floor, and I can't tear my eyes away from the photo. "What... what is this?"

He's already stepping forward, his eyes scanning the room, but when his gaze lands on the photo of me, his jaw tightens. I can see the tension in his shoulders, the flicker of anger that briefly passes through his expression. But it's not aimed at me. I know it's not. It's aimed at him. Shadow. The person who's been manipulating all of us.

I don't know what I was expecting, but this... this isn't it. I thought maybe we'd find more clues. More answers. But it feels like we're walking deeper into the dark, where every step only leads us further from the truth.

"This isn't just about you," Ryder says, his voice low, his tone sharp. "This guy... whoever he is... he's been watching you, Noa. Watching you for a while. And the worst part is, I think he's been waiting for you to figure it out."

I nod slowly, trying to keep my breath steady, but my chest is tight, the words feeling heavy in my throat. I want to ask him what he means. What the hell is he talking about? Waiting for me to figure it out? Does he mean the photos? The messages?

But I can't ask. I can't even bring myself to say it aloud because the thought alone feels too real, too dangerous.

Instead, I turn my attention back to the wall, my eyes scanning the rest of the photos. There are so many of me, scattered all over the room. Some are candid shots taken when I was walking around campus. Others are more intimate, moments I don't even remember happening. And then there's one— a close-up of me standing in front of a coffee shop, my eyes gazing out into the distance, lost in thought.

I remember that moment. I remember standing there, waiting for my coffee, not even realizing someone was watching me. But this photo, the way it's framed, the way it's been enlarged— it feels like it's been taken with some purpose. It feels too... personal.

I glance at Ryder, who's still scanning the room, his jaw clenched tight. The anger I saw before is still there, simmering just beneath the surface. He's pissed. And it's not just because of the photos.

You're closer than you think. Look at the key.

The words make my skin crawl, and my heart skips a beat. I can feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, but I can't take my eyes off the message. It's like a challenge, a riddle that I'm supposed to solve. But I don't understand what it means.