Trapped By The Phantom: His Little Lamb

I sat in the back seat of Dean's sedan, my body rigid against the leather. The car smelled like his cologne, a rich, woody scent that filled the enclosed space and made it hard to breathe. I pressed my temple against the cold glass of the window, watching the city lights blur past. Hannah was in the front seat, softly humming along to the radio. She was completely oblivious to the war raging inside my head. I hadn't spoken a word since we left the restaurant. My mind was spinning, replaying Dean's parting words over and over. You tell a very compelling story. Was it a warning? A threat? Or just a casual observation? I didn't know, and the uncertainty was killing me. I glanced up at the rearview mirror. Dean's eyes were already there, watching me. The reflection of the streetlights made his blue eyes look almost silver. He wasn't just checking the traffic. He was studying me. Like a hawk watching a mouse in a field. The intensity of his gaze made my skin prickle. I quickly looked away, my hands clenching into fists in my lap. This wasn't part of the plot. In the book, Dean barely noticed the roommate. She was furniture. But here, he was laser-focused on me. My presence, my lies, my background-everything about me had caught his attention. And that attention felt like a physical weight pressing down on my chest. The car finally pulled up to the curb outside our dorm. I didn't wait for Dean to open the door. I grabbed the handle, shoved the door open, and practically jumped out onto the sidewalk. "Goodnight!" I called out, already taking a step toward the building. "Chloe." Dean's voice cut through the night air, stopping me dead in my tracks. My body went rigid. I slowly turned around. He had stepped out of the car and was walking toward me. He moved with a predatory grace, his long strides eating up the distance between us in seconds. He stopped right in front of me. The top of my head barely reached his shoulder. I had to tilt my head back to look at him, which only made me feel smaller and more vulnerable. "My offer stands," he said, his voice low and serious. "Blackwood isn't just a school. It's a battlefield. And you're walking into it blind. Take care of yourself." It sounded like a warning. Not a friendly piece of advice, but a statement of fact. He knew something about this place that I didn't. Something dangerous. Before I could respond, he turned and walked back to the car. He said goodbye to Hannah, and then the sedan purred away, disappearing into the night. I stood on the sidewalk, my legs shaking, the cold wind biting through my thin jacket. Hannah asked, looking down at her phone. "Did my brother say anything to you?" she asked, frowning. "You look like you've seen a ghost.""Just a little tired," I lied, grabbing my toiletries. "I'm going to shower." I locked myself in the bathroom and turned on the cold water. I splashed it over my face, gasping at the icy shock. I looked at my reflection in the mirror. My face was pale, my eyes wide with fear. I looked exactly like what I was: a prey animal that had just been cornered by a predator. I couldn't keep doing this. I couldn't keep letting Dean Gibbs corner me. His interest in me was growing, and if I didn't do something, I would be sucked into his world permanently. I had to cut ties. Completely. I walked back into the room, my mind made up. I would ignore Hannah's invitations. I would avoid the places Dean frequented. I would become a ghost. A nobody. Just like the original Chloe was supposed to be. I sat down at my desk, pulling out my phone to set an alarm for the next morning. Just as I unlocked the screen, it lit up on its own. A notification popped up at the top. I frowned, my thumb hovering over the message from an unknown number. The preview on the lock screen showed a jumble of nonsensical words: "Lamb little hello..." Spam, probably. Some poorly translated phishing attempt. I swiped it away without another thought and tossed the phone onto my bed. I had bigger problems than a random text. I had to figure out how to disappear in plain sight. I climbed into bed and pulled the covers up to my chin, staring at the ceiling. I had to be strong. I had to stay away from the main characters.