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Almost the same way Wynnie does.

I find myself really letting these moments sink in. The way Ellie gestures with her fork as she speaks about a crazy party she went to last week, and how Robert throws his head back and slaps the table when he laughs.

I wonder if they would still look at me the same if they found out what I’ve done. If they knew I was a masked stalker. A murderer. I’m someone who hurts people, but these two, they’re the ones I never wanted to hurt… Right there at the top of my list with Wynnie.

By the time we part ways, night has already begun to swallow the town. Ellie gives me a tight hug before running off to see her friends. Robert hits my shoulder again, telling me he loves me and he’ll call me soon.

I’m alone again, as usual.

I pay for dinner and begin to drive without really deciding where I’m going, my subconscious taking me for a ride. The dinner went okay, though I hoped they would’ve expressed a desire to hang out with me a little more. I was the one who helped care for them as they grew up; the least they could do is give me a handful of time every week. The empty feeling doesn’t leave. If anything, it deepens.

I end up outside of city limits before I realize where I’m going. The road narrows, trees pressing closer on each side until the pavement breaks into gravel. Wynnie’s house isn’t far beyond the treeline.

I cut the engine and sit on the side of the road for a few minutes, hands still placed on the steering wheel as I think about our last interaction, when she flipped the baseball cap off my head. Had I been too rough with her? Did I hurt her when I pressed her against the wall? Did she see Caleb’s face when I did that?

I need to do something to make it up to her.

I climb out of the car, telling myself I’m just going to take a peek at what’s going on. I don’t have any of my gear on, and I can’t risk her finding out my identity, especially now that she’s beginning to like the real me.

The woods are pulling me in; I know they’ve been waiting for me to arrive again. The night is cold, and the leaves and twigs crunch beneath my boots as I move through the trees. I make sure to stomp a little extra hard in the spot I’d buried Caleb. Just for me.

The faint glow of Wynnie’s porch light spills through the branches ahead. I stand there, motionless. For the life of me, I can’t figure out why I’m so drawn. I don’t know why I can’t mind my own business and leave her be.

Wynnie is the most beautiful woman to exist; that much is true. I’m mesmerized by the way her burgundy hair sways down her back, and I create drawings with her freckles in my mind. Her full, pink lips curl into a smile that makes me breathless.

My pulse pauses when I see her silhouette pass across a window. For a moment, I imagine myself walking up to the door, knocking, and pretending I haven’t crossed so many unforgivable lines. It doesn’t take long for the image to break; it would be nothing more than her opening the door, looking at me like I’m a fiend.

I stay where I am and press a hand to the rough bark of the tree next to me, while my eyes never leave her window, even after her shadow leaves.

Life has made such a drastic turn, but It’s my problem, which I created. I simply can’t accept that my brother and sister are growing up and moving on without me, and this… this was my way of coping? Standing in the woods, making my place in someone’s life where they can’t get away from me, no matter how hard they try.

After a while, I turn back to the car, but I look over my shoulder one last time before I leave. Just to make sure she’s still there and the house is still standing.

* * *

I sit hunched over my laptop in the corner of the library, pretending to study. Solitaire blinks back at me in a mocking rhythm. Red queen on black king, black jack on red queen. The same meaningless patterns I’ve been cycling through for the past hour.

Obviously, I’m not here for the game or to study. Hell, I’m not even here for me. It’s for her. She needs me to keep an eye on her, and well, maybe I guess it’s a little for me, too.

Even if we don’t speak, which is most days, if all I get are stolen glances across outdated bookshelves and study tables, that’s more than enough for me. Knowing that she and I are breathing the same air and existing in the same space. Even when she passes by and I can get a faint smell of her vanilla perfume, it makes everything else in the world feel bearable. It makes the growing madness that constantly simmers beneath my skin settle into a manageable feeling.

Being here while she works makes me feel as if I’m her invisible protector, watching from the shadows.

The sound of her soft footsteps on the library’s industrial carpet makes my pulse quicken. Today, something about the way she’s holding herself seems different. During break, she doesn’t go to her usual spot to catch up on reading. Instead, she’s walking directly toward someone.

I perk up when I hear her voice and the name that comes with it.

“Hey, Hudson,” Wynnie says, sauntering up to him.

I shift slightly, enough to watch Wynnie interact with Hudson from the corner of my eye. The very same Hudson she accused of being Ghost just days ago. So why the fuck is she talking to him now? Why is she standing so fucking close to him?

“I wanted to apologize for the other day,” she starts, her tone sweet, yet laced with what I immediately recognize as fake regret. At this point, I know every inflection of her voice, every subtle change of tone. This isn’t genuine; this is a performance. But for whom? “I was just… not doing well. Obviously. I guess I needed someone to blame for all the bad things happening around me right now.”

She needed to blame someone? From the things I’ve been protecting her from? I’ve been eliminating threats around her and keeping her safe from a world that wants to hurt her. And she needs someone to blame for that?

I clench my teeth together, feeling the anger loop tighter and tighter—a noose around my neck. My fingers shake against the mouse pad of my laptop, and I have to focus on my breathing.

In through the nose, out through the mouth.