Nova didn't sleep well.
Something in her gut had kept her restless all night, tossing and turning beneath the thin sheets. At first, she had brushed it off—maybe just a reaction to the way Adena had looked at her that evening. Like something fragile and blooming all at once. That look had stayed with her, haunting the corners of her mind, begging her to read deeper.
She checked her phone again.
No message from Adena.
Nova frowned. That was unusual. Adena wasn't the clingy type, but ever since they'd reconnected, she always sent a goodnight or "I made it to bed without tripping over myself" text. Something.
But this morning, nothing.
"Okay, maybe she was tired. Maybe she fell asleep early," Nova mumbled to herself as she walked into her small kitchen. She started a pot of coffee, trying to shake the unease building in her chest.
Ten minutes later, her thumb hovered over Adena's name in her contact list.
She called.
No answer. Straight to voicemail.
Nova blinked, her breath catching slightly. That wasn't just odd. It was wrong.
She pulled on jeans and a hoodie, grabbed her keys, and was out the door within minutes.
The ride to Adena's apartment was a blur of red lights and gnawed fingernails. When Nova arrived, she noticed the front gate slightly ajar.
Her stomach dropped.
She climbed the stairs two at a time and knocked on Adena's door.
Nothing.
She knocked again—harder this time. "Adena? It's me. Are you okay?"
Still silence.
Nova fumbled for the emergency key Adena had given her weeks ago, "just in case." She unlocked the door and stepped in slowly.
What she found made her freeze.
The lights were off. Her shoes were by the door. A cup half-filled with tea sat cold on the nightstand. The bedroom door was open. The sheets were a mess—but no Adena.
Nova backed out of the room and pulled out her phone.
She didn't care if she sounded dramatic. Something was wrong.
And she was going to find her.
Nova paced in the parking lot, phone pressed tightly to her ear.
"Come on, pick up," she whispered.
Still no answer. Adena's phone kept going straight to voicemail.
She had called three different hospitals. No one matching Adena's description. She had even driven by the police station, hesitated, then turned away. Not yet. Not until she knew more. Not until she had something to tell them.
Back in her car, Nova gripped the steering wheel and let her mind race. Who would want to hurt Adena? Who even knew enough about her to get past the emotional walls she kept up like fortress gates?
Andrew?
No. He was toxic, but not that kind of dangerous.
Nova pulled up Adena's social media. The last thing she'd posted was a throwback picture, something about "letting go of old seasons." Nova scrolled through the comments—nothing stood out.
Then she noticed a name.
Zach.
A reply under Adena's story, posted the night before:"Didn't know you were back in the city. We should talk."
Nova's stomach turned.
She hadn't heard Adena mention that name in a long time. Not since she told her that story—half-whispered, full of shame—about someone from her past who didn't know how to take no for an answer.
Nova's hands shook as she clicked on his profile. His latest post? A blurry photo of the skyline. Captioned:"Some ghosts don't stay dead."
Nova's heart dropped. This was more than coincidence.
She pulled her car out of the lot, ignoring the angry honk behind her as she swerved back onto the road.
If Zach was involved—if he'd touched Adena—
Nova gritted her teeth.
She would find her.
Whatever it took.
Her wrists burned.
The rough rope chafed every time she moved, but Adena kept tugging anyway. She wouldn't stop trying. Not until she was free.
The room smelled like mildew and rust. Cold concrete pressed against her skin. Somewhere far off, a pipe dripped steadily — tick, tick, tick — like a twisted countdown. The only light came from a flickering bulb above her, buzzing like it could short out at any moment.
Her head throbbed.
She remembered the car. The sharp scent of something chemical. A man's voice, familiar but wrong, twisted with resentment and something darker.
Then nothing.
She blinked rapidly, forcing herself to stay awake.
Don't panic. Don't give him the satisfaction.
A door creaked open.
Footsteps.
She sat up straighter, jaw clenched.
And then he appeared.
Zach.
His face was older than she remembered, but the cruelty in his eyes hadn't aged a day.
"Miss me?" he asked, his voice dripping mockery.
Adena didn't flinch. "Let me go."
Zach crouched beside her, smiling like he had all the time in the world. "You always thought you were too good for me. Funny how you ended up right back in my hands."
"You're sick."
He laughed softly. "Maybe. But I'm also patient. And I've been watching. All that healing, all those little dates with your new girlfriend — Nova, right? Cute name. Does she know the real you?"
Adena's chest tightened.
Nova.
If he knew about her…
No. She couldn't let fear show. She stared him down.
"She's twice the person you'll ever be."
Zach's smile vanished.
He stood up sharply and kicked over a chair near her. It clattered against the wall.
"Let's see if she's still around after this," he muttered, walking back out.
The door slammed.
Adena exhaled shakily, heart hammering against her ribs.
She leaned her head back against the wall and closed her eyes.
If she gave in now, he won.
But she wouldn't. Not this time.
Adena sat still for a moment after Zach left, listening. No more footsteps. No voices. Just the constant tick of that damn pipe.
Her hands ached from the tight rope, but the pain grounded her. She could feel. She could fight.
Think.
She opened her eyes and took in the room again. The light overhead flickered in a broken rhythm. The walls were old brick, parts of it flaking. A metal door — likely the only exit — had no visible handle on her side. But the hinges were on the inside.
That's something.
She shifted carefully, testing her restraints. The rope was thick, but it had been tied in a rush. Not professionally. One end was frayed, and she could feel it loosening the more she twisted her wrist.
Time. She just needed time.
Zach wasn't the same controlling, manipulative boy he used to be — he was something worse now: dangerous and unhinged. But he was also careless.
She glanced to the side. A rusted shelf stood against the far wall. Most of it was covered in dust, but a broken piece of mirror leaned against one edge, half-buried under an old rag.
If she could reach it…
She took a deep breath and shifted her weight again. The rope scraped, digging into her skin. She bit her lip to keep from crying out. Slowly, inch by inch, she leaned to the side.
The chair groaned beneath her.
She froze.
Waited.
Nothing.
Again — she inched her body until her fingers barely touched the rag. A little more—
Yes.
The corner of the mirror scraped her palm. She gripped it, dragged it closer until it slid into her hand.
Now for the hard part.
She twisted the sharp edge against the rope at her wrists, sawing carefully, slowly, praying the mirror didn't snap in half. Her breath came short, her heart pounding so hard it made her vision blur.
But the rope was fraying.
Almost there.
The door creaked again.
No. Not now.
She stuffed the mirror piece back under the rag and straightened up just as Zach reappeared, holding a tray with food.
He looked at her like she was a possession he was debating how to use.
"Eat something. You'll need your strength."
She didn't speak.
Didn't move.
She just watched him.
Calculated.
And waited.
Nova paced her apartment like a storm trapped in a jar.
It had been almost twenty-four hours since she last heard from Adena. That wasn't like her. Not after the way they'd ended the night. Not after that forehead kiss that still lingered in Nova's memory like the warmth of sun on skin.
Adena had looked at her differently then. Softer. Like she might finally be ready to open the door Nova had been waiting by for months.
So why was her phone still silent?
She tried again.
Voicemail.
Again.
Nothing.
Nova sat on the edge of her bed, her mind spinning. She'd already messaged Elijah. No word. She'd even checked with Adena's building manager, but he said he hadn't seen her since the day before.
She opened her laptop and started retracing steps. Messages. Calls. Where had she gone after she left Nova's place?
Had she mentioned anything about errands? Meeting someone?
Then her stomach dropped.
Andrew.
Nova hadn't trusted him from the beginning. She didn't like the way Adena's voice changed when she talked about him — that strained attempt at neutrality that always hinted at something deeper.
She opened her messages again, scrolling back to the last time Adena had mentioned him.
"He wanted to talk. I'm not sure I should go, but maybe it'll give me peace."
That had been two days ago.
Nova stood up, heart pounding. She grabbed her jacket and keys. Enough waiting. Something was wrong, and if no one else was going to look for her, Nova would.
She had to.
Nova's car engine growled to life as she pulled out of the lot, eyes fixed ahead like a hunter with a scent.
She started with the obvious — the last known place Adena might've gone: the café near her apartment. It was familiar, one of Adena's comfort spots. Nova pulled up and marched inside.
"Hey," she asked the barista. "Have you seen this woman lately?" She held up her phone, Adena's smiling face glowing on the screen.
The barista's brows furrowed. "Yeah… she was here yesterday afternoon. Alone. Seemed off though. Nervous. She got a tea and left quick."
"Did she say where she was going?"
"Nope. Just… walked off down the street. Looked like she didn't wanna be seen."
Nova thanked them and left, her pulse quickening. It wasn't enough, but it was something.
Back in the car, she opened her maps app and stared at the area. The café was near an intersection that branched in three directions — toward the train station, a park, and the older part of town with run-down warehouses and low-traffic streets.
She bit her lip.
Old town. That's where Andrew used to hang out. Where he ran some shady "business" with friends she'd never trusted.
She turned the car in that direction, her jaw set.
The sun was starting to dip low, casting long shadows across cracked pavement and rusted fences. Nova slowed as she reached a block of abandoned buildings. Her eyes scanned every corner. Nothing but silence and a few fluttering pigeons.
Then she saw it.
A blue scarf, caught on the edge of a chain-link fence.
Adena's scarf.
Nova slammed the brakes and jumped out of the car. Her fingers shook as she touched it, the fabric cold and familiar. There was no mistaking it — Adena had been here.
Her heart thundered. She wasn't just being paranoid. Something had happened. Something bad.
She took a photo, slid the scarf into her jacket, and backed away slowly. She needed help. She needed to think.
But most of all…
She needed to find Adena before it was too late.
Nova didn't sleep.
The scarf stayed folded on her nightstand, a silent symbol of something gone terribly wrong. She'd gone home only to regroup, but every fiber of her being was wound tight with unease.
She was back out by sunrise.
This time, she brought backup — not the police. She didn't trust them to move fast enough, or to take a missing Black woman seriously. She called Jules, her tech-savvy college friend who owed her more than one favor, and who had no problem bending a few laws for a good cause.
"You're telling me she disappeared near the docks?" Jules said, typing furiously. "That's bad news. That area's full of blind spots — no working security cams, no street patrols."
"Exactly why I need your help," Nova muttered.
Jules sent her a pin-drop and directions. "There's a building down there registered under one of Andrew's old burner companies. He hasn't used it in years, but it might still be a hideout."
Nova froze. Andrew.
Her jaw clenched as she realized: he was the common thread. He'd already shaken Adena once. What if he hadn't let go?
"Text me everything you find," she said. "I'm heading out."
Before Jules could protest, Nova hung up. She was already grabbing her jacket, shoving pepper spray and a small flashlight into her bag. Every step to her car felt like wading deeper into something she might not be ready for — but she didn't care.
She wasn't going to sit back while Adena vanished into thin air.
She drove fast, weaving through traffic, barely stopping at lights. The warehouse loomed into view as she pulled up. Gray. Empty. Silent. It felt like the kind of place people disappeared from.
Nova took a breath, pulled the flashlight from her bag, and stepped out.
She didn't notice the shadow watching her from the second floor.
Not yet.
The air inside the warehouse was thick with dust and silence.
Nova moved cautiously, her flashlight cutting narrow tunnels through the dark. The beam flickered across broken crates, rusted tools, and the skeletal remains of old furniture. Her breath came slow and sharp, every step echoing louder than it should.
She didn't call Adena's name — she didn't want to alert anyone else who might be inside.
Her heart pounded.
She rounded a corner and came face to face with a heavy metal door — newer than the rest of the place. Reinforced. Locked. Someone had been here recently.
She knelt beside it, fingers grazing the floor — and there it was.
A single earring.
Gold, small, shaped like a crescent moon.
Adena's.
Nova's stomach twisted. She closed her hand around it like it might disappear, her knuckles whitening. "I'm close," she whispered. "I know I'm close."
Just then — footsteps.
Not hers.
Nova stood up straight, pressing her back to the wall, breath held. The sound was coming from the far end of the corridor, slow, deliberate.
She gripped her flashlight tighter, her other hand on her pepper spray.
And then —
A man's voice. Muffled, but unmistakable. "Check the perimeter. She shouldn't have made it this far."
Nova's blood ran cold.
They weren't expecting anyone. That meant Adena was still here — and someone was making sure she stayed that way.
Nova didn't hesitate. She slipped back the way she came, moving with the stealth of instinct. She couldn't fight them — not yet — but she could outsmart them.
And if they thought she was going to leave without Adena?
They were dead wrong.
The air was colder than before. Adena had stopped shivering, not because she was warm, but because her body had grown numb to the chill. Her wrists ached from the zip ties, her back stiff from the concrete floor. She no longer cried or panicked — not out loud, at least.
She was waiting.
She had memorized their footsteps.
Three different voices. Two male, one female. The woman didn't speak much — just issued orders. The younger man smoked. The older one walked like someone used to power he didn't deserve.
And today… something had changed.
The older one came in earlier, pacing. Muttering about "being followed." That was her first real spark of hope.
Then she heard it. Just moments ago — barely a sound, but she knew it wasn't one of them.
Soft footsteps. Light. Careful.
Nova.
Her breath hitched.
They told her no one was looking. They said she was "too much trouble to keep around" and that if no one paid attention soon, she'd disappear.
But Nova was here. She felt it in her chest. In her bones.
Adena shifted, testing the plastic ties again. They had cut her skin, but the pain grounded her. She glanced up at the corner of the room — the old vent. Still loose. If she could just—
A sharp noise cut through her thoughts. The door unlocking.
She scrambled back just in time before the taller man stepped in, holding a phone and frowning. "Something's wrong," he muttered. "They said the tracker stopped pinging."
He stared at her like she was a puzzle missing its edge pieces.
Adena forced herself to speak calmly. "You're scared," she said, watching his brow twitch. "You should be."
The man sneered. "And you should know how easily people forget."
"I don't forget," she replied, steady now. "And neither does Nova."
Before he could respond, something crashed in the hall outside.
The man swore and stormed out.
Adena listened to his footsteps retreat — and crawled toward the vent again.
Tonight, she wasn't waiting to be rescued.
She was going to help Nova find her — and fight her way back.
Nova's knuckles were white on the steering wheel.
She had ditched the car two streets back, taking the rest on foot, guided by the faint ping from Adena's smartwatch — the one she'd helped set up with a low-battery backup signal. It had gone silent hours ago… but not before it gave her a perimeter.
An industrial part of town. Warehouses, broken fences, shadows that stretched too long in the streetlights.
Her boots barely made a sound as she slipped past the chained gate. She'd mapped out the area from satellite images earlier. Two buildings. One newer, one falling apart like a breath could knock it down.
She picked the older one.
The wind shifted. Something metallic clinked inside.
Nova pressed herself to the wall, heart hammering.
Then a whisper of sound behind her — too fast, too soft to be random.
She turned—
Too late.
A pair of arms locked around her, dragging her back. A sharp sting in her neck — a needle?
"No—" she rasped, kicking, elbowing, thrashing with everything she had.
They held firm.
And the world blurred.
"Nova?" a voice echoed in her head. Adena's voice.
She tried to answer, to scream, but her mouth wouldn't work anymore.
The last thing she saw before blacking out was the warehouse door swinging open — and the shadow of a woman standing there, watching her fall.