Elena sat by the window of her room, chin resting on her hand, her textbooks open but untouched. The sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting lazy patterns on the floor. Outside, the world moved, unaware that hers had quietly tilted.
It had been two weeks since the day at the bursar's office.
She never mentioned it to anyone. Not to Liam. Not to her roommate. Not even to herself, out loud. But she thought about it. Constantly.
That fee… it vanished. A sum she could never afford, gone overnight. Like a whisper. A shadow.
And she knew. Deep in her bones, she knew it had been him.
Luca.
But where was he now?
She hadn't seen him. Not outside her window. Not near the café. Not walking behind her when she took the long route home. No silent footsteps. No breath on her neck. No sensation of being watched.
He had disappeared again.
The absence felt heavier than his presence ever did.
She should have felt relieved. Should have been happy to be free of the cold gaze that always lingered too long. Of the man who haunted her every step like a silent storm cloud. But all she felt was a slow, aching confusion.
Why would he help her… and then vanish?
Elena turned her head, eyes scanning the street below. Every tall figure in a dark coat made her heart stutter. Every glint of black hair sparked a memory. But it was never him.
She got up and closed the curtain.
She was slipping, wasn't she?
Her orphanage counselor used to say she got attached too easily. That loneliness could make ghosts look like saviors. That when no one ever stayed, anyone who did—no matter how broken—felt like home.
She leaned against the doorframe and slid down to the floor, pulling her knees to her chest.
"I didn't even get to say thank you," she whispered into the silence.
And that was what hurt the most.
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