Authors: T.M. Franklin
Lucy squinted, examining the area. “Are those . . . bruises?” she asked, mouth dropping open in shock.
Ava gulped, fighting back panicked tears. “Yeah. I think so . . . yeah.”
“But how did you get them?”
Ava sprang to her feet and began to pace. “I don’t know! That’s the thing. I have these marks on my neck like someone tried to strangle me. And a scar that’s never been there before. But that’s impossible, right?” Lucy stared at her, unsure what to say. “And they look like they’ve been there for a long time. So, why didn’t I notice them yesterday or the day before? And if they
are
new, how can they be healed?” She collapsed back onto the couch. “Luce, I feel like I’m going crazy.”
Lucy grabbed her hands, squeezing them tightly. “You’re not crazy.”
Ava took a deep breath. “I think . . . something happened to me tonight.”
“What?”
“I think maybe . . . somebody tried to hurt me. I just don’t understand why I can’t remember.” She pressed her palms against her temples. “I keep seeing the man from my nightmares, Luce. But he’s real, and he’s trying to hurt me. And then I fall and . . . hit my head.” Her hand drifted to the scar at the back of her head. “It’s like it happened. But it couldn’t have, right?” She looked at her friend helplessly, tears pricking her eyes.
“Oh, my God,” Lucy murmured, rubbing a thumb over Ava’s hand. “Av, maybe you need to call the police.”
“And tell them what, exactly?” she huffed. “That a guy I’ve been dreaming about for months—the guy I’ve been
hallucinating—
attacked me, but I can’t really remember it because I hit my head, but there’s no wound because it’s miraculously healed?”
Lucy exhaled heavily. “So what are you going to do?”
“I don’t know.” Ava flopped back, throwing her hands up. “I wish I could remember what happened.”
“Well, try and retrace your steps. What’s the last thing you remember?”
“I was . . . walking home from work.” She stood and crossed to the window, looking down on the path she took every day. “And I felt like someone was there.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know. No . . . wait,” she said, heart pounding. “I saw him before that. Outside the restaurant.”
“He was outside?”
“I think so, talking to this woman. But then they were gone.”
Lucy joined her at the window, her gaze steady, encouraging. “Then what?”
“I . . . I . . . someone was following me.” Her hand flew to her neck. “I think he grabbed me. And I fell?”
Ava tried to concentrate, willing the blurry images to focus, but nothing happened. “I don’t know,” Ava admitted. “I guess I passed out and . . . I’m not sure what happened.” She struggled to remember, but the thoughts floated out of her grasp, like a word on the tip of the tongue. “Someone . . . brought me here, I think.”
“You think?”
“I don’t remember. I blacked out, and I woke up here.” She reached up absently to touch the back of her head, wincing at the new scar.
Lucy already had her phone out. “You need to tell the police what happened,” she said, dialing 911.
“No, wait.” Ava grabbed the phone and hung up. Suddenly, she was exhausted.
“Ava, you need to file a report.”
“I can’t, Luce. I’m not even sure what happened. I’m not even sure
anything
happened,” she replied. “I’m just . . . I’m really wiped out. I have a test in less than eight hours, and I really need to get some sleep.”
“Ava . . .”
She held up a hand. “I swear, if I remember anything more, I’ll go down and file a report with campus police. I really . . . I can’t deal with it right now, okay?” She wiped her eyes as they filled with tears once again. “I need some time to think about it when I’m not so freaked out.”
Lucy bit her lip, unconvinced. “I still think you should tell them.”
“Maybe it will come back after I get some rest,” she said. “You know, like temporary amnesia or something. Or maybe I’m just getting weirded out by all these nightmares. Who knows? Maybe I dreamed the whole thing.”
Lucy rolled her eyes and got up to lock the deadbolt. “Okay. I don’t like it, but okay. Gotta say, you’ve got me more than a little worried, Ava. I hope you know what you’re doing.”
Later, as Ava lay awake staring at the ceiling, she found herself hoping the same thing.
The next morning, Ava left early for class, retracing her steps from the night before in an attempt to spark her missing memories. She walked quickly to the diner, darting across the street to the open doorway where she’d seen the mysterious man, but found nothing out of the ordinary. She followed her path from the night before, eyes trailing over the ground and the surrounding area as she slowed her steps, trying to stay calm and let the memories flow. By the time she got back on campus, she felt increasingly frustrated, not to mention a little bit crazy.
As she approached the bridge, a tingle of awareness raced up her spine. Running her fingers along the concrete railing, she peered over the edge and let her gaze trail over the path in front of her, unsure of what she was looking for. She stepped off the bridge and back onto the pathway, taking a few tentative steps before turning in a slow circle, ignoring the curious looks of the students passing by. She tilted her head back, gazing at the tree branches overhead—the sky beyond—then let her focus drop to the gravel underfoot.
She spotted a glint of metal under a shrub at the edge of the walkway, and her heart began to thud heavily in her chest. Ava glanced around before stepping over to the shrub, and she dropped to her knees, reaching for the object. She pulled it out, staring in shock at the metal cylinder lying across her palm.
A can of pepper spray.
Her
pepper spray.
Ava fell back in shock, sitting down heavily on the gravel path as the memories came flooding back in full color, layering one over another in a dizzying series of flashes. She touched her scar, remembering how she had fallen and hit her head, and her fingers swept to her throat as she recalled the way the monstrous man had gripped her neck. It had all happened—the frightening attack, just as in her dreams, the only difference the appearance of the mysterious rescuer when she feared all was lost.
“Miss? Are you all right?” An older man, a professor most likely, looked down at her in concern.
Ava nodded, forcing back tears as she got to her feet. “Yes, I’m fine. Thank you.”
“Do you need help?” He reached out, but she stepped back abruptly, overwhelmed and unsure if she could handle it if someone actually touched her at that moment.
“No . . . thank you. I’m fine. I . . . uh . . . I have to get to class.” She turned and began to walk away, her steps speeding up as she went. She would go to the police as she promised Lucy. They might think she was crazy. But she knew it had happened, and she had to report it. But right now, she had a test to take—one she couldn’t afford to miss.
Ava took a deep breath and forced the fear and anxiety back, stifling the memories of the night before. She rushed to class, and as she neared the science building, she spotted Caleb sitting on the steps of the library, his eyes focused intently on a textbook in his lap. He didn’t look up, but Ava couldn’t quell the eerie feeling that he’d been watching her.
She debated with herself for a moment, the events of the night before prodding her relentlessly. She was missing something. She was almost certain of it.
Someone had stopped her attacker. Someone had saved her.
Ava stepped behind the corner of the building, pressing her back against the bricks as she took a deep breath and closed her eyes, once again running through her memories of the night before, but this time trying to focus on the dark figure who had rescued her.
Tall . . . strong . . .
“I’ve got you.”
A face cast in shadow, yet somehow familiar.
Her eyes flew open, and she groaned in frustration. The rest of her memories were crystal clear, but she just couldn’t bring him into focus. In addition to the question of
who
, there was a great, big, glaring
why. Why
would someone intercede and then leave her with no explanation? On top of that lingered the even bigger
how. How
had he stopped the attack?
How
had he gotten her back into her room?
How
had her injuries all but disappeared?
How
was she supposed to focus on a physics test in the middle of all of this?
With a defeated sigh, Ava peeked around the corner of the building, only to find Caleb on his feet, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked around the crowded courtyard. He held his textbook on one hand, fingers tapping erratically on the cover as he casually scanned the area.
What was he doing?
Ava watched him as she came out from behind the building and started toward him. She didn’t know what she expected to happen when he spotted her—perhaps a smile or a wave—but instead, his eyes passed over her as if he didn’t even notice her. He took a breath, stretching his arms overhead before he sat back down and opened his textbook to read.
Weird. She could have sworn he was looking for her.
Or maybe he
was
looking for her, but pretending he
wasn’t?
But why?
Why?
Ava’s eyes narrowed on Caleb as she walked across the courtyard, and slowly, methodically, the pieces began to click into place.
She didn’t know who saved her the night before, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that it was someone familiar—someone she knew. And Caleb . . . well, it seemed as if Caleb was everywhere lately. Maybe she wasn’t imagining seeing him around every corner. Maybe Lucy was right and he was interested in her, even following her.
Maybe he was there when she was attacked and stepped in to help.
Could it have been Caleb? And if so, why had he disappeared without a word?
Even more confusing—how did she end up back in her room, believing it was all just another nightmare?
The questions whirled around in Ava’s mind, one atop the other . . . piling higher and higher until she felt almost weighed down by confusion and curiosity. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously at Caleb, studiously focused on his textbook, turning a page, jotting a few words on his pad, and she took a deep breath.
“Only one way to find out,” she muttered, stalking the rest of the way across the courtyard.
She came to a stop in front of him, arms crossed as she waited for him to notice her. Caleb continued to read, oblivious to her presence. Or at least giving the appearance of obliviousness. Ava was beginning to wonder if anything about Caleb was what it appeared to be.
“Hi,” she said finally, the word laced with nerves and irritation.
Caleb looked up, blue eyes wide. “Ava,” he said, surprised. “Hi. What’s up?”
What’s up? Really?
Her eyes narrowed as Caleb continued to gaze up at her innocently. It was like some bizarre game of chicken, each daring the other to give—one challenging the other for the truth, the other claiming the suspicions as boundless, or perhaps daring the first to let it drop. It left Ava swinging wildly from being certain Caleb was her rescuer to feeling like an idiot for ever thinking it in the first place.
“Ava? Is something wrong?”
Ava opted for bluntness, in the hope that Caleb might give something away.
“I was attacked last night,” she said, watching him closely. His eyes flickered to the left briefly before returning to her face. Was that a sign?
“Attacked?” Caleb repeated, his mouth dropping open in shock as he stood up, towering over her on the steps. He jumped down to her, reaching out to touch her shoulder, then pulling back abruptly. “Are you all right? Were you hurt?”
“I’m fine,” Ava said stiffly, eyes intent on his. “Someone came along and scared the guy off.”
Caleb ran a hand through his mop of hair, looking into the distance. “Well, that’s good. That’s . . . good.”
Ava said nothing, the silence looming between them. He swallowed deeply. “I’m glad you’re okay,” he said. “You went to the police, right?”
She ignored his question. “Was it you?”
Caleb blinked. “What?”
“Was it you?” she repeated, emphasizing each word carefully.