Page 76 of White Noise

Instead, I gave him another way in.

8

SILAS

FREQUENCY

Ishould probably be more bothered by how easy that was.

I’m not.

Saga spent all that time telling me she wasn’t mine, fighting me, cutting me, running from me, and in the end she still grabbed me first.

Still kissed me first.

Still chose me.

That part keeps replaying in my head more than anything else.

Not because I’m sentimental.

Because I won.

And fuck, she felt good.

Warm human skin wrapped around current. Her pulse hammering under my hands. Every reaction coming back through me like I’d plugged straight into something alive and furious.

Now I want to know what I left behind.

Saga is downstairs pretending I’m gone, moving around the condo with that irritated little edge she gets whenever she’s trying to convince herself she still has control. She wipes down a counter that doesn’t need cleaning, opens the refrigerator twice without taking anything out, then stands there drinking water while glaring at the speaker like she expects it to betray her.

I stay inside the signal and watch, already smiling.

Her body has been carrying me ever since.

I can feel it every time I move near her network. Her pulse shifts before I appear. Her breathing changes before she hears anything. Sometimes all it takes is the smallest disturbance in the current and her shoulders tense like some part of her already knows I’m there.

That is much more interesting than I expected.

So I test it.

I start with the kitchen speaker, pushing just enough through it to create a low hum beneath the normal noise of the room.

Saga freezes with the refrigerator door still open.

Her shoulders tighten first, then her pulse kicks hard enough that I feel it before she even turns toward the speaker.

Perfect.

She stares at it for a few seconds, waiting for me to do something else, then mutters, “Fuck off,” and slams the refrigerator shut harder than necessary.

My smile widens.

She can tell me to fuck off all she wants.

Her body already answered me.

Twenty minutes later, I try again from upstairs. One thin horizontal line of static cuts across the monitor while she sits on the edge of the bed scrolling through her phone.