The scent of old books and fresh ink wrapped around me as I flipped through a worn-out novel. The bookstore was my sanctuary—a quiet escape from the world’s chaos. Today was no different, except for the unsettling feeling that someone was watching me.

I tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear and glanced up. The shop was mostly empty, except for Sophie rearranging a shelf and Elias, the owner—and my fiance—scribbling in his ledger. Nothing unusual. Yet, the air felt charged, like a storm brewing beneath a calm sky.

A shadow flickered at the entrance. Rayhan. His brooding presence had a way of making the bookstore feel smaller. His dark eyes held an intensity that made it hard to look away.

“Lost in another world, Amina?” His voice was smooth, teasing, but there was an underlying sharpness to it. He wasn’t just asking about the book in my hands.

I closed the novel, fingers tightening slightly around the worn cover. “Some worlds are better than this one.”

His smirk was slight but knowing. “Careful, you might get too lost.”

A shiver ran down my spine. Maybe it was the way he said it. Maybe it was just Rayhan being Rayhan. But deep inside, a whisper of doubt lingered.

I placed the book back on the shelf and walked past him, heading toward the counter where Elias was still hunched over his ledger. The scratch of his pen against paper filled the silence.

“Elias, did someone new come in today?” I asked, keeping my voice casual.

He barely looked up. “Other than the usuals? No.”

I frowned. That uneasy feeling of being watched hadn’t left me. If it wasn’t Rayhan, who else could it be?

A movement near the window caught my attention. I turned just in time to see a figure disappearing into the street outside. A thrill of fear shot through me. My pulse quickened.

“Amina?” Sophie’s voice broke through my thoughts. She stood a few feet away, holding a stack of books, her expression puzzled. “You okay?”

I forced a smile. “Yeah. Just thought I saw someone.”

Sophie followed my gaze toward the window but shrugged. “Probably just a customer passing by.”

Probably.

Still, the air in the bookstore felt heavier, as if the shadows were watching and waiting.

Elias finally looked up, his sharp gaze locking onto mine. “Amina, if something’s wrong, you should say it.”

The words hovered on my tongue, but I hesitated. What could I even say? That I felt like someone was lurking in the background, unseen but present? That Rayhan’s cryptic words unsettled me more than usual? That for the first time in a long while, the bookstore—the one place I felt safe—suddenly felt different?

Instead, I shook my head. “It’s nothing.”

But deep down, I knew it wasn’t nothing. And whatever it was, it wasn’t over yet.

As I turned back to the bookshelf, my fingers brushed against something tucked between the pages of an old, leather-bound novel. A folded letter.

My heartbeat pounded in my ears as I pulled it out. The paper was yellowed, the ink slightly smudged, but one thing was clear—the letter was meant for me. My name was scrawled on the front in jagged, almost frantic handwriting.

Swallowing hard, I unfolded the letter, my eyes scanning the words. My breath hitched. The message was simple, yet chilling.

You don’t know who to trust.

The world around me seemed to tilt. I glanced up, my gaze darting between Sophie, Rayhan, and Elias. The air felt suffocating.

I clutched the letter tighter. Someone was playing a game with me. But who?

The bookstore always smelled like ink, aged paper, and something else—something hidden, like a secret folded between the pages of an unread book.

I liked it here. It was quiet. Too quiet.

Amina was at her usual corner, fingers tracing the edges of a novel she wasn’t really reading. She did that when something was on her mind. Her gaze flickered toward Elias, who was scribbling away in his ledger. Sophie stood by the shelves, rearranging books in a way that looked deliberate—almost like she was eavesdropping.

I smirked. No one ever really paid attention to what was happening around them. Not like I did.

I moved toward the shelves, pretending to scan the books, but my eyes were elsewhere. Watching.

Amina stiffened when she noticed me. Her fingers curled tighter around the book in her hands. Nervous? Or just wary of me?

“Lost in another world, Amina?” I asked, keeping my tone light.

She closed the book, her movements calculated. “Some worlds are better than this one.”

Interesting.

“Careful, you might get too lost.”

The way she swallowed, the slight shift in her stance—she heard something in my words. A meaning beyond what was said. Good.

I glanced at Elias, his head still bent over his writing. The perfect picture of a man consumed by work. Too perfect.

I leaned against a nearby shelf, watching the street outside through the rain-speckled window. Then I saw it—a shadow moving too quickly, disappearing into the alley across the street.

Someone had been watching the store.

I pushed off the shelf, walking toward the door. I didn’t look back. I could feel Amina’s eyes on me. Let her wonder.

As I stepped outside, the cold air hit me like a slap. I turned my head slightly, scanning the street, the alley. Nothing. But the feeling remained—something wasn’t right.

And then, I heard it.

A whisper.

Soft. Barely there. Like paper sliding against paper.

I spun, but the street was empty.

The only thing near me was the bookstore’s window display, the pages of an open book fluttering slightly, even though there was no wind.

I exhaled sharply.

Maybe I’d been working too hard. Maybe I was imagining things.

Or maybe… someone was playing a game.

I turned back to the store. Just before I stepped inside, I noticed something in the window display. A book, slightly pulled forward, as if someone had taken it out but never fully removed it. The title sent a slow chill crawling up my spine.

"The Watchers."

Coincidence? Or a message?

I re-entered the store, letting the door shut behind me with a soft chime.

Sophie was now at the counter, chatting with Elias. Amina was near the shelves, staring at something in her hands. A letter.

What the hell?

I moved closer, catching a glimpse of the paper before she tucked it into her book. The ink looked smudged, hurried. Her fingers trembled slightly as she turned away.

Elias finally looked up from his ledger, his sharp gaze locking onto Amina.

"Amina, if something’s wrong, you should say it."

I waited, watching her.

She hesitated. Then shook her head.

"It's nothing," she said.

Liar.

The uneasy feeling in my gut twisted into something sharper. Something closer to certainty.

Someone was watching. Someone was playing a game.

The bookstore had always been a quiet place. A sanctuary. A world where stories unfolded neatly between pages, where reality couldn’t twist itself into something unrecognizable.

Tonight, it felt different.

I had been here for hours, pretending to rearrange books, pretending not to notice the way Amina’s hands shook when she found that letter. The way Rayhan had walked out, tense, like he had seen something no one else had. The way Elias watched everything without really watching.

Something was happening.

Something none of them were saying out loud.

I stacked another book onto the shelf, glancing at Amina. She was gripping the edges of a novel like it was the only thing keeping her steady. She hadn’t turned a page in the last ten minutes.

Rayhan, who had just re-entered the store, leaned against a shelf, his expression unreadable. But I knew him well enough to recognize the way his eyes darted—tracking movements, searching for answers.

And then there was Elias. His pen had stilled. He was watching Amina, his fingers barely tapping the counter. Waiting. Calculating.

The air was too still.

I hated silence.

"So..." I said, forcing a casual tone. "Who wants to tell me what the hell is going on?"

Amina flinched. Just slightly. But I saw it.

Elias sighed, rubbing his temple. "You’re imagining things, Sophie."

I narrowed my eyes. "Am I?"

I pointed to Amina. "She’s been staring at the same page for ten minutes." I nodded toward Rayhan. "He just walked back in like he saw a ghost." My gaze landed on Elias. "And you—you’re always writing in that stupid ledger, but you haven't moved your pen in the last five minutes."

Silence.

Amina was the first to speak. "It’s nothing."

I let out a dry laugh. "You’re a terrible liar, Amina."

She exhaled sharply, gripping the book tighter. "I found a letter."

Rayhan’s head snapped up at that. Elias didn’t react.

That told me something.

I folded my arms. "And?"

Amina hesitated. Then, finally, she pulled out the letter, unfolding it with careful fingers. I leaned in. The ink was smudged, but the words were still clear.

You don’t know who to trust.

I felt the chill sink into my bones.

"...Well, that’s not ominous at all," I muttered.

Rayhan’s jaw clenched. "When did you find this?"

"A few minutes ago." Amina’s voice was barely above a whisper.

"And no one else could’ve put it there?" I asked.

Amina shook her head. "I don’t know."

I glanced at Elias. He was still too still. Too quiet.

"Do you know something?" I asked him.

His gaze lifted to meet mine, and for the first time in a long while, I couldn’t read what was behind his eyes.

"...No," he said.

Liar.

I pressed my lips together, heart pounding slightly. Something was wrong with all of this.

The letter. The tension. The feeling that someone was moving the pieces of a game we didn’t even know we were playing.

And then—

The bell above the door chimed.

I turned just in time to see Max walk in.

Completely unaware.

His usual clumsy self, knocking into a display table, nearly toppling over a stack of books. He grinned, completely oblivious to the heavy air suffocating the room.

But then—his eyes darted around.

And he noticed.

Noticed the way Amina was pale.

Noticed the way Rayhan’s hands were in fists.

Noticed the way Elias hadn’t moved at all.

Max wasn’t an idiot.

He was a fool. But not an idiot.

His grin faded slightly. "Uh… Did I miss something?"

No one answered.

But the weight in the room had shifted.

Because Max had walked into the middle of something he didn’t understand.

And suddenly, he wasn’t just an outsider anymore.

He was part of it.