Chapter 3: Midnight Blood and Shadows

“Evan, I—I saw Aaron.”

She sounded terrified. Like she’d just woken up from a nightmare.

“He was standing outside the window.” She paused, breath ragged. “He was just standing outside the window, looking at me with no expression!”

Her words tumbled out, breathless and shaky. I could hear her trying not to cry.

My first reaction was that she must have been dreaming.

I tried to sound calm, told her it was probably a bad dream or a trick of the light. But inside, I felt a chill run down my spine.

I kept trying to comfort her, but after hanging up, I couldn’t help letting my mind wander.

I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering if grief could really do that to a person—make you see things that aren’t there. Or maybe, just maybe, there was something she wasn’t telling me.

Aaron couldn’t possibly come back.

I said it to myself, over and over. But I didn’t believe it, not really. Not when her voice still echoed in my ears.

But why would she make something like that up?

She wasn’t the type to lie, especially not about something like this. If she said she saw Aaron, then she believed it—whatever that meant.

I tossed and turned all night, unable to sleep.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Aaron’s face—sometimes smiling, sometimes blank and cold. By morning, I felt like I’d aged a year.

Work has flexible hours. I slept in and didn’t get to the office until noon.

I tried to act normal, but my head was foggy. I kept checking my phone, half-expecting another call from Natalie.

As soon as I walked in, the receptionist called out, “Mr. Carter, a beautiful woman’s here to see you. She’s waiting for you in the small meeting room.”

She said it loud enough for half the office to hear. Heads popped up over cubicle walls, and I felt my face go red.

She really leaned on the “beautiful,” making sure everyone heard.

I could hear a couple of guys whispering behind me, making guesses. It was like high school all over again.

A coworker who’d been chatting up the receptionist came over, patted me, and said, “Damn, Evan, that knockout’s here for you? She’s got a killer figure.” I shot him a look. It was fratty and gross, but I let it slide. Not worth a fight.

He waggled his eyebrows, and I just rolled my eyes. Sometimes I wonder if we ever really leave the frat house.

I waved him off, clocked in, and headed to the meeting room.

I tried to keep my cool, but my palms were sweating. I hadn’t seen Natalie in months, and now she was here, in my office?

And there she was. Natalie.

She looked different—older, maybe, but still beautiful in that effortless way. Her eyes were tired, but she smiled when she saw me.

She was wearing a fitted sweater and light makeup, looking elegant and charming as always.

There was a hint of perfume, something floral and familiar. It brought back memories I’d tried to forget.

“Evan, I… I tried calling this morning. Couldn’t get through. So I just came. Sorry.”

Her voice was soft, almost apologetic. She twisted her hands in her lap, and I realized she was nervous too.

I checked my phone—sure enough, two missed calls. My phone had been on silent, and I was rushing, so I hadn’t noticed.

I felt a pang of guilt. She must have been desperate to come all the way here.

“It’s fine. You haven’t eaten yet, right? Let’s grab lunch.”

It was the easiest way to get out of the office, away from all the prying eyes.

“Mm.” She nodded, grateful. I grabbed my jacket and we slipped out before anyone else could stop us.

We went to a café near the office. As soon as we sat down, Natalie asked, “Did I bother you last night?”

She looked at me, eyes searching for something—maybe forgiveness, maybe understanding.

I smiled and shook my head, trying not to look awkward.

My heart was pounding, but I tried to play it cool. I didn’t want her to see how much she still got to me.

“I know you didn’t want any gossip. I know you didn’t want to talk to me. But… now, I really don’t know who else to turn to.”

She said it so matter-of-factly, like she’d rehearsed it in her head a dozen times. I felt my face flush again.

She nailed it, and I felt my face go red.

It was like she could read my mind. I looked away, fiddling with my coffee cup.

“You probably won’t believe me, but… I feel like Aaron is back. Not just last night. Actually… I saw him about a week ago.”

Her hands shook as she spoke. I could see the fear in her eyes, raw and unfiltered.

Natalie took a sip of water, her chest rising and falling, her eyes darted, restless.

She gripped the glass so tightly her knuckles went white. I reached over and gently refilled it, trying to steady her nerves.

“Don’t worry, just take your time,” I said, refilling her glass.

I tried to sound soothing, even though my own nerves were shot. She nodded, took a deep breath, and continued.

“That day, I was on my way home from work—almost home—when I felt like someone was following me.”

She shivered, wrapping her arms around herself. The café felt suddenly cold, despite the midday sun streaming through the windows.

“They followed me for a long time. When I was almost home, I got brave and decided to ambush them at the next corner.”

I pictured Natalie, clutching her bag, heart pounding, trying to summon the courage to confront her fear. She’d always been braver than she thought.

“After Aaron died, I bought a self-defense baton. I took it out of my bag, ready to hit whoever came by.”

She smiled weakly, as if embarrassed by her own paranoia. But I couldn’t blame her—not after everything she’d been through.

“But just as I was about to swing, I realized the person following me was actually Aaron.”

Her voice cracked on his name. She looked away, blinking back tears.

“It was him. Even though I couldn’t see his face clearly, I was sure. The clothes he wore were the ones I’d set out for him to change into before he went to Black Ridge!”

She described the jacket, the faded jeans, the old hiking boots. Details only someone who loved him would remember.

“I shouted his name, but he ran away without looking back.”

She reached for a napkin, twisting it in her fingers. Her voice was barely above a whisper now.

“After that, I kept feeling like he was nearby. Over and over.”

She glanced at me, searching my face for any sign that I believed her. I just nodded, letting her know I was listening.

"Then last night, I woke up and saw the curtains weren’t all the way closed, so I got up to fix them."

She paused, took a shaky breath, and continued.

“But when I walked to the window, I saw him. He was standing in the greenbelt outside, staring straight at me.”

Her eyes darted to the window behind me, as if she half-expected to see him there now.

“The moment our eyes met, he turned and ran into the night.”

She wiped her eyes, her voice trembling.

“That wasn’t a dream. It was him—he’s still alive!”

She looked at me, pleading. I wanted to believe her, but all I felt was confusion and dread.

“But I don’t understand. If he’s alive, why doesn’t he come back openly? Why does he keep scaring me like this?”

She sounded lost, like a child asking for the rules to a game no one else could see.

At this point, Natalie’s eyes reddened. She covered her face and started to sob softly.