Page 30 of Hidden Echoes

My skin tingles. My chest tightens. I should move, should run, but I can’t. The couch beneath me shifts into something else—something suffocating. A trap. A nightmare I can’t wake up from. I shouldn’t have slept here.

“You look so much like him…” The voice wavers. I don’t want to hear the rest. I want to disappear, to sink into the floor, for this house to swallow me whole. “You’re beautiful like him.”

I swallow hard. Disgust curdles in my gut, tangling with fear, and suddenly, the world tilts. My vision flickers, crumbling into something else.

Not her.

Her.

A hot nail of despair drives straight into my skull.

Please don’t hurt him!

The voice screams inside me, raw and endless.

Please! Please!

My eyes snap open, heavy with the weight of the dream. Reality seeps back in, but the feeling lingers, clinging to my skin like something rotten.

I stand. My body still doesn’t feel like mine, but I force my legs to move, to carry me into the living room.

The first week back in LA is always the hardest. My body has to adjust to the new environment, and that usually means nightmares. It's not something I deal with all the time, but it hits when I change settings or sleep in unfamiliar places, and it sucks.

I had planned to stay at the hotel with Carter, but I decided it would be better to rent an apartment so I can be with Mia while I’m here.

It’s not that I don’t trust Carter, but I think it’s important for Mia to have some time to adjust before she’s around unfamiliar men.

I know eventually I'll need Carter to help keep an eye on her while I work, but for now, I’ll take it one step at a time.

I grab my sketchbook, let the graphite scrape against the paper, tracing frantic lines. I try to get lost in it. To forget.

Then, movement.

I glance up. Mia is standing there, silent, watching me.

A shiver prickles down my spine.

“You should announce yourself,” I mutter, voice lower than I intended. “That’s creepy.”

I called Charlie and told her everything that happened at the restaurant—how Mia seemed completely convinced that someone was there and that she had killed them, even though no one had been there, and nothing had happened.

At first, I was terrified. She sounded so sure of herself, her voice steady, but there was something off about the way she spoke, like she was trapped in her own reality.

It was subtle—her eyes darting around, her expressions shifting too quickly—but in the end, it was all just in her mind.

I couldn’t ignore the strange disconnect, the way she seemed both present and not at the same time.

I'm starting to realize that Mia sees the world through a different lens, and until I can understand how to handle it and regain some control, I need to tread carefully.

She seems fine—or at least, I think so.

I don’t want to keep her confined here; I want to give her the freedom to explore LA, to experience some independence.

As much as part of me enjoys seeing the joy on her face, I believe this needs to be her journey, and for that, I have to let her be free.

Besides, I’ll be busy over the next few weeks with publicity for LA TikTokers, attending events, and I need to stay focused on that.

“Sorry?” She tilts her head, confusion flickering across her face.

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