The Watchers

The campus of Westbridge University looked like a postcard at night - golden streetlights reflecting off rain-slicked sidewalks, ivy climbing red brick buildings, and the occasional echo of laughter from a dorm window. But beneath the idyllic surface, something hunted.

Mia Carson zipped her hoodie against the late October chill and stepped out of the library. Her footsteps were deliberate, her eyes scanning the glossy sidewalk in front of her, though she didn't need to look. She already knew.

He was behind her. As always.
Twenty paces back, blending with shadows like a whisper. He wore the same weathered trench coat, the same nondescript sneakers. Never close enough to be obvious, but never far enough to lose her.

Caleb Finch. He thought he was a ghost.

But Mia had seen him the first night.

Most girls would panic. Run. Report it. But Mia had done none of those things.

She had simply smiled and whispered, "Finally."