Liza’s POV

"Let go of me!" He shouts at the cop, his voice echoing with a desperate ferocity as he thrashed against the restraining hands. Cuffed and held by three officers, his fury burns brighter than fear. 

"Get in," The officer shoves him into the squad car with a final, forceful push. His eyes meet mine for a split second, dark and blazing with something I can't quite decipher. The door slams shut, cutting off the connection, but my heart still races in my chest.

"My god, he's scary," I mutter under my breath, instinctively pressing a hand to my pounding heart, still trying to recover from the shock.

The officer turns to me, his tone steady but laced with an understanding sympathy. "Don't worry, Miss Kirby. He won't disturb you again. We'll take care of him from here."

But my worry lingers, the edges of it fraying as I hesitate. "You should take him to a hospital or something. He seems... mentally unstable to me." The words feel fragile as I say them, trembling slightly. I'm not even sure if I believe it myself, but it feels like the only explanation.

From inside the squad car, his voice erupts again, louder this time, almost shaking the air around me.

"I AM NOT SICK!"

I jump, the sheer force of his shout rattling me to the core. My eyes widen, caught somewhere between confusion and fear, and I can't help but wonder: What exactly is going on with him? And why do I feel like this might not be over yet?

"Don't be scared, ma'am. He won't trouble you again. Please try to get some rest."

I nodded, "Thank you, officer."

As the cop took him away, I stepped back inside, the door clicking shut behind me with a finality that felt too heavy. The familiar comfort of home, once a sanctuary, now felt strangely foreign and unsafe, like the walls themselves were holding secrets I didn't want to know.

I stood there for a moment, staring at the empty hallway, still feeling the echo of his presence. His eyes, that dark glare, kept playing on my mind. My hands were shaking, so I clenched them into fists, trying to regain some control. But the unease lingered, gnawing at me.

That night, sleep eluded me completely. Every creak of the house, every gust of wind outside, felt like a threat. I stayed awake, staring at the ceiling, my thoughts spinning in endless circles—about him, about the strange things that had happened, and about the feeling that something was still wrong.

When morning finally came, it felt like a relief—if only because it meant the night was over. But even as daylight streamed through my curtains, the weight in my chest didn't lighten. I dragged myself out of bed, forcing myself through the motions. Shower. Clothes. Coffee. My body moved like a machine, but my mind was elsewhere.

I stepped outside into the clear blue sky and warm sunlight, the world looking so peaceful, so normal, and yet nothing felt right. I couldn't shake the shadow that had settled over my heart. It was like a warning, a whisper I couldn't quite hear, but I knew it was there, waiting

When I reached school, the first person I saw was Nate. My heart did that little skip it always does when he's nearby. "Hi, Nate," I greeted, trying to sound casual, though my voice wavered just a little.

"Hey, Lizzie. How are you doing?" He asked, his smile soft and voice too kind. I opened my mouth to respond but before I could, his hand gently lifted my chin, his gaze searching mine with that tender concern that made me feel exposed. "You okay? You look a little tired."

My chest tightened at the kindness in his eyes. He always saw me so clearly, didn't he?

"Uh," I stammered, scrambling for an excuse. "Just... busy, you know? It's nothing." I could hear the lie in my own voice, but I hoped he wouldn't catch it. "What about you? Don't you have a class or something?"

"Yeah, but I'm skipping today. Exams are coming up, and I need to prepare," he said with a casual shrug, though I could see the intensity in his eyes, the way he took his job seriously.

I smiled faintly, trying to keep the conversation light. "Yeah, I was looking over last week's papers. The students are doing pretty well this year."

"In English, Lizzie," Nate teased with a grin, his eyes sparkling. "There's more to school than just your subject."

I chuckled softly, grateful for the moment of normalcy, the teasing that made me feel like I wasn't just this quiet, lonely teacher. "Don't worry. I believe in them."

But before I could say anything else, a voice interrupted us—sharp, as if she had been waiting to swoop in. "Nate?" Miss Kavanagh appeared from behind him, her arm wrapping possessively around his. Her eyes flicked to me with a practiced, tight smile. "Hi, Liza. How've you been?"

I forced a smile, the ache in my chest already starting to settle in. "I'm good, thanks."

Her gaze lingered on me for just a moment longer than necessary before she turned her attention back to Nate. "Nate, babe? Can we grab dinner tonight?"

The pit in my stomach grew heavier. I fought the urge to look away from them, but I couldn't. I couldn't bear it either—watching her be so effortlessly close to him, seeing them together like this, knowing I could never be the one who stood beside him.

Nate glanced at me, his brow furrowing slightly, like he was looking for some kind of sign. His voice was gentle when he spoke. "Hey, would you like to join us, Liza?"

For a moment, I felt a sharp twist in my stomach. The thought of sitting at a table, watching them share glances and smiles, made me want to crawl out of my skin. I shook my head, the words already on the tip of my tongue. "Oh, I wish I could, but I've got some stuff to take care of. Maybe next time?"

His face softened into that familiar, warm smile, but there was something in his eyes that I couldn't quite place—something hopeful, maybe a little sad. "Next time, then."

I nodded, and as they walked off together, her arm still tightly around his waist, my heart sank a little deeper. I watched them until they turned the corner and disappeared from view, my chest tight with that familiar ache. The loneliness I tried so hard to ignore flared up again, making everything around me seem just a little bit colder. I didn't know how to stop the feeling, how to make it go away, or even if I wanted to anymore. The longing was a constant companion, and the truth was, I didn't think it ever would.

The day drags on relentlessly, a blur of teaching, lunch, and endless classes that seem to stretch into eternity. Exhaustion grips me like a vise. I couldn't sleep last night and the blame rests squarely on the shoulders of that psycho. His haunting presence refusing to release its grip on my thoughts. His fierce green eyes flash relentlessly in my mind, a constant reminder of last night's terror.

But amidst the fear and unease, a flicker of something else ignites within me. That psycho. Despite the chaos he brought, there's no denying the undeniable allure of his appearance- light blonde hair cascaded in soft, shining waves that framed his face with effortless elegance. A perfectly sculpted jawline added to his striking features, while his full, symmetrical lips held an understated allure. But it was his eyes-vivid green, like emeralds catching sunlight-that commanded attention, their piercing clarity contrasting beautifully with his fair complexion. Ah, if only he weren't a psycho, but a man who found me captivating, perhaps even worthy of his affection.

A handsome guy falling for me?

The notion is laughable, absurd in its impossibility. In another universe, maybe, but not in the harsh reality of my existence.

When I reached home, I collapsed onto my bed, the soft mattress a welcome relief after the chaos of the day. I sank into the pillows, the exhaustion of everything—the conversations, the interactions, the quiet ache in my chest—seeping out of me. Just as I felt my mind begin to drift into the comforting haze of sleep, the doorbell rang, jolting me back to reality.

Fantastic.

I groaned, burying my face in the pillow for a moment, wishing the world would just leave me alone for five more minutes. But the persistent ringing pulled me from the warmth of my bed, and with a heavy sigh, I dragged myself to the door.

I opened the door to find Mike standing there again, clipboard in hand, flanked by two familiar faces from his team. His polite smile faltered just a little when he saw me.

"Miss Kirby," he greeted, shifting awkwardly on his feet. "You mentioned a leak...?"

"Yes, in my bedroom. The ceiling above the window," I said softly, stepping aside to let them in. "It started dripping again last night. Same spot we addressed two months ago."

He gave a small nod, glancing back at his crew as they stepped in behind him. "That shouldn't have happened. We used double layering and sealant in that section. May I take a look?"

"Of course," I said, already leading them through the long hallway. The floor creaked faintly under our feet—a sound I'd grown so used to; it had become part of the house's voice.

"I spent nearly all of last year's savings fixing up this place," I said, glancing over my shoulder. "And most of it was with you."

Rajiv offered a tight-lipped smile. "I remember. You wanted it fresh but classic. New bones under the old skin."

"Well," I said as I opened the door to my bedroom, "looks like the bones are still brittle."

They stepped in, immediately looking toward the damp corner by the window where a pale pink rug—one of the few feminine touches in the otherwise muted room—was visibly darker with moisture. The ceiling above bore a long, discoloured crack that hadn't been there yesterday.

Rajiv squinted up at it. "That's not good."

"I thought we sealed it?" I asked, my voice barely above a murmur. "This part of the house was redone, inside out."

"We did," he said, looking at me, "Double-layered insulation, treated wood, balcony runoff redirection. It shouldn't have leaked."

I let out a breath and folded my arms. "I've barely even touched the balcony. I was so careful after you finished the work. It's just... discouraging, you know?"

"I understand. Honestly, I do. Especially with how much you invested here."

"My wedding fund," I said, almost laughing. "Gone into patching walls. Not that there's a wedding coming up, but still... it was supposed to be for something beautiful."

"Miss Kirby, we'll find what went wrong. We'll open it up, reseal it, and test it. And we won't charge for this."

"You don't have to—"

"I insist," he said, voice steady. "We guaranteed the work. And I respect someone who chooses to preserve a house like this instead of giving up on it."

I looked around the room again—faded portraits, lace curtains, a shelf full of classics. "She's moody," I murmured.

Rajiv chuckled. "Old houses usually are."

I nodded. "But she's mine. And I just want her to stop crying through the ceiling."

He nodded, more solemnly this time. "We'll take care of it."

I closed the door and sighed, the soft click of the latch echoing in the quiet hallway. They'll start from tomorrow. The leakage, they promised, would be fixed within two days. I hoped this time the promise would hold.

My stomach growled.

The weight of exhaustion was heavy, but hunger nagged at me, pushing me to get up. I threw together some Chinese food, the smell of garlic and soy sauce filling the kitchen as I worked, the quiet rhythm of cooking grounding me in the moment. It was a small, comforting ritual, one I knew well by now.

When everything was ready, I carried the plate to my bedroom, the warmth of the food almost comforting in contrast to the chill of the room. I settled onto the bed, propped up with pillows, and dug into the meal. The flavours were simple but satisfying. I didn't rush, taking my time, but the weight of the day was already making my eyelids heavy.

I opened a folder of school work beside me, hoping to get something done, but my mind kept drifting, worn thin by the hours. I could feel my body fighting against me, urging me to give in.

And I did.

I awoke to the sound of wind rustling outside and my curtains dancing violently. Sitting up, I glanced around, my back and neck aching due to the uncomfortable position I've slept in. Don't know why but everything seemed off, and I couldn't shake the odd sensation. I yawned and peered out the window, heavy wind was blowing, giving me a message that it's going to rain again tonight. 

I hope the temporary fix holds up.

I rose slowly and dragged myself downstairs, retrieved the food from my refrigerator, and placed it in the microwave. While it heated up, I checked my phone and discovered the welcome news that school was closed tomorrow due to the heavy wind. "Thank you. I needed one." The microwave's bell chimed, signalling that my meal was ready. I retrieved it and began to eat, savouring the comforting warmth amidst the unsettling stillness of the wind outside.

I wandered through my silent house, eating my meal while making mental notes of what I was going to do through this day off and I found myself looking at the weather from my glass window.

The scene that greeted me was one of tranquil beauty. The sky was painted in darkness, a gentle darkness that hadn't yet fully surrendered to the night. The trees stood like silent sentinels; their outlines sharply etched against the dusky backdrop. The towering cliffs of the mountains loomed in the distance, their rugged profiles softened by the fading light. The landscape was bathed in a dusky glow, a perfect balance between light and shadow that lent an air of mystique to the view. It was a moment of perfect stillness, where time seemed to stretch and bend, allowing me to lose myself in the quiet magnificence of the scene. The beauty of the night, the serenity of my home, and the comforting ritual of my meal merged into a single, harmonious experience.

I stood there, my mind still, simply absorbing the peacefulness that surrounded me, feeling an overwhelming sense of gratitude for this rare and precious respite from the busyness of everyday life.

I raised a spoonful of food to my mouth and my gaze fell upon the car parked in my garden. The spoon froze in mid-air as confusion washed over me.

How on earth did it end up there?

The doors were securely locked, and there was no way a car could have entered without my notice. With a growing sense of unease, I turned to call the authorities. After the events of last night, I couldn't risk venturing out alone and unarmed. I turned, making my way to the telephone but-My eyes widened and I halted in my spot. A sudden chill ran down my spine and I stood there, my breath picking up.

Is it a Porsche?

Slowly, I glanced back at the car and my heart nearly dropped when I realized it was a Porsche and its number plate read '0000,' sending another wave of shiver down my spine. 

White Porsche?

Number plate 0000

I turned. My heart hammered in my chest as I dashed upstairs, leaving my half-eaten meal behind on a nearby surface.

When I reached my bedroom, I frantically scanned the room until my eyes landed on the book lying on the table. Snatching it up, I flipped through its pages with trembling hands, desperation mounting with each passing moment. The sound of my own heartbeat filled my ears, drowning out all other noise as I searched for answers within the pages of the book.

Reaching the page I sought, my eyes widened in disbelief, and an audible gasp escaped my lips. The book slipped from my trembling fingers, landing with a soft thud on the floor. 

"No, no, no, no, no, no," I placed my hand on my forehead, "It can't be. This isn't possible. How can it be possible?" I looked down at the novel and gulped. A wave of shiver running through me.

The car of Adrian's in the book is parked outside my car. The white Porsche with the same unique number plate is parked in my garden. At that moment, it felt as though the world around me dissolved into nothingness, leaving me suspended in a void of uncertainty and fear. 

Is it some kind of coincidence?

Or I'm losing my mind?

I nodded, "Definitely a coincidence," I told myself. But deep down, doubt gnawed at me, refusing to be silenced. I picked up the book, determined to reassure myself by returning to the page to recheck the number plate. However, when I flipped to the page, it was no longer there. Panic surged through me as I realized the car had vanished, leaving behind a space.

I frowned. 

Gathering my resolve, I flipped to the first page of the book once more, but as I looked up, the ground seemed to shift beneath my feet. Adrian was gone, just like the car, leaving nothing but a space in his wake.

"Oh my fucking, God!"

My world shook. I felt lightheaded. I couldn't grasp it.

"Oh, my god. Oh, my god. Oh, my god. Is-Is this true? Is this really happening? I actually summoned a fictional character into the real world?"

I slammed my palm on my mouth, my eyes wide in shock, "Fuck!"