The morning air in Beacon Hills was crisp and quiet, a strange calm settling over the town that Lila couldn't quite place. She sat on the porch of the house, her fingers wrapped around a cup of coffee, staring out at the empty street. Something about the day felt wrong. The kind of wrong that settled deep in her chest, a weight she couldn't explain.
The faint hum in her head had grown louder overnight, a persistent buzzing that made it hard to focus. She hadn't mentioned it to anyone yet, but it was getting harder to ignore.
Scott's Jeep pulled up, breaking her train of thought. He climbed out, his face tense. "Hey, Lila. You okay?"
"Not really," she admitted, setting the coffee down. "Something feels… off."
Scott nodded grimly. "You're not the only one. Lydia's been saying the same thing all morning. Malia, too."
"Did Stiles mention anything?" Lila asked, furrowing her brow. "He usually has some theory when things feel weird."
Scott hesitated, his expression flickering with confusion. "Stiles?"
Lila blinked, the buzzing in her head spiking suddenly. "Yeah, Stiles. Your best friend? Sarcastic, always carrying a bat?"
Scott's face darkened, his eyes narrowing. "Lila, what are you talking about? I don't know anyone named Stiles."
Her breath caught in her throat, and the buzzing became deafening for a moment. "What do you mean you don't know Stiles? He was just with us yesterday, helping figure out the disappearances."
Scott shook his head, his concern deepening. "I don't remember anyone like that."
Lila stood abruptly, her hands clenching at her sides. "This doesn't make sense. He's your best friend, Scott. He's been with us through everything—through the Alpha Pack, the Nogitsune, the Beast."
"Lila," Scott said gently, stepping closer. "Are you okay? Maybe the stress is getting to you."
"No," she snapped, her voice trembling. "I'm not making this up. Stiles is real. I know he is."
But even as she said it, her mind felt slippery, like trying to hold onto water. The details of Stiles began to blur—the sound of his voice, the curve of his smile, the way he always made her feel safe. It was like someone was erasing him, piece by piece, from her memory.
The buzzing in her head grew louder again, and she pressed her hands to her temples, shaking her head. "I can hear it, Scott. The buzzing. It's like… it's warning me."
Scott's hand rested gently on her shoulder. "We'll figure it out, okay? Let's get to the McCall house. Maybe Lydia knows something."
At the McCall House
The pack was already gathered when Scott and Lila arrived. Malia sat cross-legged on the floor, her claws digging into the rug as she stared at the map on the coffee table. Lydia was flipping through one of her books, her face pale and her movements sharp with frustration.
"Lydia," Lila said quickly, stepping forward. "Please tell me you remember Stiles."
Lydia froze, her head snapping up to look at Lila. For a moment, her green eyes flickered with something—recognition, maybe—but then she shook her head. "Stiles? Who's Stiles?"
"No," Lila whispered, stumbling back slightly. "Not you too."
"What's going on?" Malia asked, her claws retracting as she stood. "Why does it feel like there's something missing?"
"It's the Ghost Riders," Lydia said, her voice trembling slightly. "They don't just take people. They erase them. From everything. From everyone's memories."
Lila felt her knees go weak, and she gripped the back of the couch for support. "No. He's not gone. He can't be."
"Lila," Lydia said gently, moving toward her. "If he was taken by the Ghost Riders, then—"
"He's not gone!" Lila shouted, the buzzing in her head spiking again. Tears blurred her vision as she turned to Scott. "You have to believe me. He's real."
Scott stepped closer, his expression pained. "I believe you, Lila. But if we can't remember him, how do we find him?"
Lila clenched her fists, the buzzing overwhelming now, like a scream just beneath the surface. "Because I can still feel him. The buzzing—it's him. I know it is."
Lydia's eyes widened slightly, and she glanced at Scott. "If Lila can still feel him, then maybe he's not completely gone. Maybe he's still holding on."
"Then we have to find him," Lila said, her voice firm despite the tears streaming down her face. "Whatever it takes, we're bringing him back."
The Search Begins
That night, Lila sat in her room, staring at her charm bracelet. The tiny heart dangled from the chain, catching the faint light of her bedside lamp. She clenched it tightly in her hand, a surge of determination coursing through her.
"I'm not forgetting you," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I promise."
The buzzing in her head softened slightly, almost as if it was answering her. It wasn't much, but it was enough.
They would find Stiles. No matter what.