Web of lies

Familiar Shadows

The room seemed to shrink around her as Rhea clutched the note, her fingers trembling. Her heart pounded against her ribs, the words etched into the paper burning into her mind: "Welcome back, Rhea. You won’t be leaving this time."

A wave of nausea washed over her as she stood frozen, the reality of the situation sinking in. Someone knew she was back in town. Someone had been inside the house. She quickly scanned the room, her eyes darting from corner to corner, looking for any sign of intrusion—an open window, a broken lock. But nothing seemed out of place, and that was what unnerved her the most.

Swallowing hard, she shoved the note into her pocket and rushed to the front door, checking the lock again. It was secure, just as she had left it. How had someone gotten inside? She hadn’t been gone that long.

The air in the house felt thicker now, oppressive, as if the walls themselves were closing in. She took a deep breath, willing herself to calm down. It could be a prank, she reasoned. After all, small towns had a way of spreading news fast. Someone could have seen her at the train station and decided to play a cruel joke. But why would they go through the trouble? And why did it feel so… personal?

She paced back and forth in the living room, her mind racing. Every creak of the old floorboards made her flinch. She tried to tell herself it was just the house settling, but her gut told her otherwise. The house, with its musty smell and layers of dust, felt more like a tomb now—a place where secrets had been buried, and someone was intent on keeping them that way.

Rhea pulled out her phone and scrolled through her contacts. She hadn’t spoken to anyone in this town for years. The few friends she had grown up with had either moved away or drifted apart over time. But there was one person she could still reach out to—Zoya.

Zoya had been Rhea’s best friend throughout high school, the kind of friend who knew everything about her—the good, the bad, and the ugly. They had been inseparable until Rhea had left town. Zoya had stayed behind, working at her family’s hardware store. If anyone knew what was going on in this town, it was her.

Rhea tapped Zoya’s number, holding her breath as the phone rang. After several rings, just as Rhea was about to hang up, a voice came through the line.

“Rhea?” Zoya sounded surprised, almost disbelieving. “Is that really you?”

“Yeah, it’s me,” Rhea replied, her voice shaky. “I… I’m back in town.”

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line, followed by a sharp intake of breath. “Back in town? Since when?”

“Today. I just got in,” Rhea said, glancing toward the hallway, half expecting someone to appear in the shadows. “Zoya, I need to talk to you. Something weird is going on.”

“Weird? Like what?” Zoya asked, concern creeping into her voice.

“I don’t know. I found a note… in my house. I think someone’s been inside.”

“Someone’s been in your house?” Zoya’s voice sharpened with worry. “Rhea, are you sure? Did you call the police?”

“No, I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it… yet. I thought maybe it was just a prank,” Rhea admitted, though the words felt hollow. “But I don’t know. It feels… wrong.”

There was another pause, longer this time. When Zoya spoke again, her tone was cautious. “Rhea, I don’t know how to say this, but… things have been different around here lately. People have been talking, and not in a good way. Maybe we should meet somewhere tomorrow. In public.”

The hairs on the back of Rhea’s neck stood up. “What do you mean, ‘different’? What’s been happening?”

“Let’s talk tomorrow,” Zoya said quickly. “I don’t want to get into it over the phone. Meet me at the café on Main Street at noon. You’ll understand when you hear it.”

Before Rhea could protest, Zoya hung up, leaving her in the suffocating silence of the house. She stared at her phone, the dial tone buzzing in her ear, feeling more alone than ever. What did Zoya mean by “different”? What wasn’t she telling her?

Rhea tossed her phone on the couch, rubbing her temples as a dull headache began to form. She needed to get out of the house, clear her mind, and figure out what was going on. Maybe the note was just a coincidence, maybe it was nothing. But the way Zoya had spoken… something was off in this town, and Rhea was starting to regret coming back.

Grabbing her jacket, she headed for the door, but just as her fingers brushed the doorknob, she froze. A movement—a shadow—flickered across the window.

Her heart leaped into her throat. Slowly, she stepped closer to the window, her breath catching as she peered through the sheer curtain. The street outside was empty, bathed in the dim light of the streetlamps, but Rhea could have sworn she had seen something—or someone—just a moment ago.

She stood there, paralyzed, her eyes scanning the shadows outside. The trees swayed gently in the wind, casting long, dark fingers across the pavement, but there was no sign of anyone. No figure lurking in the darkness, no eyes watching her from the street.

Still, the feeling of being watched lingered. It crawled up her spine, cold and unshakable. She backed away from the window, her mind racing. She couldn’t stay here. Not tonight.

With quick, hurried movements, she grabbed her keys and bolted out the door. The night air hit her like a slap, cool and sharp. She looked around the quiet street, half-expecting someone to be standing in the shadows, watching her. But there was no one. Just the empty, eerily quiet town.

Rhea locked the door behind her and headed down the street, her footsteps echoing in the silence. She didn’t know where she was going—maybe to the old motel at the edge of town, maybe to Zoya’s house. She just knew she couldn’t stay in that house tonight.

As she walked, the shadows seemed to stretch and twist, following her with every step. And in the stillness of the night, she heard something. A soft whisper, carried on the wind.

“Welcome back.”