Whispered Shadows

Chapter Thirty-Two

The Face of Shadow

Noa

The world feels distant and disjointed when I start to come to. My head is pounding, my limbs heavy as if weighed down by sandbags.

My head throbbing, my body aching as if I've been dragged through the dirt. My eyes snap open, but the light is dim, only a few slivers seeping through a crack in the boarded-up window. A low groan escapes my lips as I try to move, only to realize I can't. My wrists are shackled to the cold, unforgiving floor.

Panic surges through me as I tug at the chains, feeling the sharp bite of metal against my skin. The sound of clinking chains echoes around me, and I force myself to sit up, my heart hammering in my chest.

Where am I? What's happening?

I look around frantically, trying to make sense of my surroundings. The room is small, claustrophobic even, with peeling paint and exposed wooden beams. Dust particles swirl in the stagnant air, and the smell of mildew is thick, choking me with every breath. The floor beneath me is hard, rough, and unforgiving, and the chill in the air seeps deep into my bones.

I tug at the chains once more, hoping for some kind of relief. But it's useless. I can't break free.

Then I hear it—the sound of footsteps. Slow. Deliberate.

I freeze.

The hairs on the back of my neck rise, and a chill runs down my spine.

My mind races, and I hold my breath, waiting, straining to hear. Is it Ryder? Asher? Is someone coming to help?

And then I see a figure.

Standing a few feet away from me, her figure looming in the shadows, is a familiar face—a face that shouldn't be here. A face I never thought I'd see again.

Her copper-red hair gleams in the dim light, and her dark green eyes—so warm and friendly before—are now cold and calculating. She steps into the room, movements deliberate, her gaze fixed on me like a predator sizing up its prey.

Paige.

My mind takes a moment to process what I'm seeing, the shock clouding my thoughts. The girl who had been Gia's roommate, who had always kept to herself, who had that spark in her eyes that never seemed to fit in with the rest of the crowd. I had always assumed Paige was harmless. Scared that her roommate disappeared.

The way she's standing there, so calm, so composed, it's like she's been waiting for this moment, for me to wake up and finally see her for who she really is.

"Noa," she says, her voice soft, almost too calm. "It's good to see you awake."

"You," I whisper, my voice hoarse, but the words come out clear. "It's you, isn't it?"

She doesn't answer at first. Instead, she steps forward, the click of her boots on the floor loud in the silent room. Her expression is unreadable, but her eyes—those eyes—glint with something darker now, something I haven't seen before.

"Yes," Paige finally says, her voice soft but carrying an edge. "It's me."

I swallow hard, my throat dry. "What... what is this? Why are you doing this?"

She steps closer, her figure casting a long shadow across the floor. Her dark eyes lock onto mine, and for the first time, I see something unfamiliar—a sharpness, a coldness that wasn't there before. A look that makes my skin crawl.

"You're not supposed to be here," she mutters, her fingers twitching like she's holding back some kind of rage. "None of this was supposed to happen this way."