Josh

Shadows crept across the walls as a tall man stalked through his office, each step measured and predatory. The dying sunlight caught the collection of photographs on his wall – surveillance shots, carefully arranged – but his eyes fixed on one in particular. A girl's face stared back at him, and the sight of her made his pulse thunder with rage. One month. One whole month since she'd slipped through his fingers, her teeth sinking into his flesh with animal ferocity he should have anticipated.

"AHHHHH!" The knife left his hand before he could think, embedding itself in the wall with a satisfying thunk before clattering to the hardwood floor. His voice dropped to a whisper, thick with possession and promise. "You're mine, puppy. No matter where you run, no matter who tries to protect you – you'll always be mine."

"Josh." A young girl materialized in the doorway, her presence as quiet as a shadow.

Josh acknowledged her with a grunt, his eyes drawn to the window where the city sprawled beneath him like a hunting ground. His brother's death played through his mind for the thousandth time – Yoshida, brought down by that little brat. The need for vengeance burned in his chest like acid.

With controlled movements, he retrieved his phone and dialed. Each ring stretched his patience thinner until a gravelly voice answered.

"Luka, what's the news on her?"

"She's at Chicago Med." Luka's voice carried a hint of satisfaction. "Security's a joke – mostly rent-a-cops and a few cameras. Getting her out won't be an issue." A pause. "But there's been a development. One of their ED doctors has adopted her."

Josh's fingers tightened around the phone until his knuckles went white. When he spoke, his voice carried the calm of a predator about to strike. "Find her. Bring her here." His eyes drifted back to the knife on the floor, its blade catching the last rays of sunlight. "And Luka? Make sure no one gets in your way."

Lexa

I laid in my new bed, watching the fairy lights blur into stars as my eyes unfocused. Sleep should have come easily after such an exhausting day, but my mind wouldn't quiet. Three hours I'd been here, listening to the unfamiliar creaks of the apartment and the distant hum of Chicago traffic.

At 2 AM, I couldn't take it anymore. My bare feet hit the floor silently, a skill I didn't remember learning. The wolf blanket seemed to watch me as I crept past Connor's room, where his steady breathing told me he was deep asleep. I didn't take my shoes. I didn't take a jacket. I just... moved, like a shadow slipping under the door.

The night air hit my face as I descended the stairs, but instead of cold, it felt like a caress. Every nerve in my body hummed with electricity, every muscle coiled tight as a spring. Something was wrong. Something was coming. My instincts screamed danger with such clarity that I could almost taste it – metallic and sharp, like blood in the back of my throat.

I started walking, each step carrying me further from safety and deeper into the sleeping city. Part of me knew I should turn back, wake Connor, tell him something was wrong. But a stronger part, an older part, urged me forward into the darkness. Whatever was hunting me, whatever had been hunting me all along, was finally closing in.

The city transformed at night. During the day, Chicago was all gleaming steel and glass, but now it felt different – quieter, more mysterious. Steam rose from grates, and the L rumbled overhead, its familiar rhythm echoing through empty streets. My feet carried me past the closed shops of Magnificent Mile, their windows dark except for the occasional security light.

A group of drunk college students stumbled past, laughing too loudly. One of them called out, "Hey, you okay?" but his friends pulled him along, probably deciding it wasn't smart to approach a stranger at this hour.

I turned down a narrow street I didn't recognize. The buildings pressed closer here, their brick faces worn smooth by decades of wind and weather, telling stories I couldn't quite read. A cat watched me from a fire escape, its eyes reflecting the dim streetlight before darting away at the sound of approaching footsteps that weren't my own.

I continued down a dark alleyway, where a few homeless men huddled around a barrel fire that painted their faces in flickering orange. A scrappy little dog sat at their feet, its ears perked up as I passed. One of the men nodded slightly, a silent acknowledgment of another nighttime wanderer.

The footsteps behind me grew closer, then faded as their owner turned down a different street. I realized I'd been holding my breath and let it out slowly. The neighborhood had changed – gone were the familiar landmarks of downtown, replaced by warehouses and old industrial buildings I didn't recognize. Their windows stared down at me like empty eyes, reflecting nothing but darkness.

A neon sign buzzed and flickered above what looked like an ancient tavern, its red glow painting the wet pavement. Inside, shadows moved behind frosted windows. I considered going in to ask for directions, but something made me hesitate. This far from the tourist areas, strangers probably weren't welcome at this hour.

I turned another corner, hoping to find something familiar, but found only more identical warehouses and chain-link fences. The L tracks had disappeared, leaving me without even that landmark to guide me home. Somewhere in the distance, a siren wailed, and I quickened my pace, my footsteps echoing off brick walls that seemed to grow taller with each block.

I pressed on, each step echoing louder in the empty streets. A flickering streetlight revealed a group of shadowy figures huddled around a decrepit car, their eyes flicking toward me as I approached. They were dressed in mismatched layers, clothes that seemed to have absorbed the city's grit. The tallest of the group stepped forward, a crooked smile stretching across his face.

"Lost, are we?" he called out, his voice carrying a mocking edge that sent a shiver down my spine. The others snickered, and I noticed the glint of something silver in his hand – a switchblade.

I tried to keep my voice steady, "Just passing through."

He chuckled, a sound that made my skin crawl. "Not many people pass through here at this hour."

My instincts screamed at me to run, but my legs felt like lead. Just then, one of the figures moved, blocking the path behind me, and I knew I had no choice. I bolted, my shoes slapping against the pavement as I sprinted back the way I came.

"Hey! Get back here!" the tall one shouted, and the chase was on.

I dashed down the alley, the sound of their footsteps pounding in my ears. My breath came in gasps, and adrenaline surged through my veins, fueling my desperate flight. Ahead, the alley split into two paths. I took the one on the right, hoping to lose them in the maze of streets.

The city seemed to close in around me, every shadow a potential threat. I ducked through a narrow gap between two buildings, emerging onto a street lined with parked cars. I zigzagged between them, trying to throw off my pursuers.

Finally, I saw it – the glow of a late-night diner, its neon sign a beacon of safety. I sprinted toward it, bursting through the door just as the group reached the end of the street. The bell above the door jingled, and the waitress looked up, startled.

"Can I help you?" she asked, her voice a lifeline in the chaos.

I nodded, trying to catch my breath. "Yes, please. Just... just a moment."

I peered through the window, heart hammering, as the figures lingered outside, their faces obscured by shadows. But eventually, they turned away, melting back into the night. I let out a shaky sigh of relief and sank into a booth, grateful for the diner's sanctuary.

The worker gave me a worried look. "Are you okay, honey? Where are your parents?" Her hands fidgeted with her coffee-stained apron, eyes darting between me and the darkness beyond the windows.

I hesitated, but before I could respond, my phone buzzed – Connor. The screen lit up with three missed calls and a series of increasingly frantic texts. Guilt twisted in my stomach as I read them: "Where are you?" "Please answer." "I'm getting really worried." "I swear to God, if something happened to you..." "I'm worried sick." I glanced up at the woman, my voice barely above a whisper, "I got lost. Those guys were chasing me."

She drew closer, speaking in hushed tones. "This place isn't safe at night." She shook her head, eyes haunted by what seemed like years of witnessed violence. "Even this diner isn't safe anymore. Nothing here is." Her hands trembled as she wiped down the counter, a nervous habit more than actual cleaning. "I'm sorry, but I can't help you. If they're chasing you and I give you shelter..." She swallowed hard. "It puts me in danger too. They know where I work. Where I live." She gestured toward a door at the back of the diner. "Go out through there and run. Don't stop, don't look back. There's nothing more I can do for you."

Through the grimy windows, shadows moved across the street, and I knew my time was running out. My heart pounded against my ribs as I slipped through the back door, emerging into an alley thick with the stench of rotting garbage. The door clicked shut behind me with a finality that made my stomach drop. Somewhere in the distance, a bottle shattered against pavement, followed by rough laughter.

I ran.

The alley opened onto a wider street, streetlights casting pools of sickly yellow light. My shoes slapped against wet concrete as I ducked into another narrow passage between buildings.

"There she is!"

The shout came from behind me, too close. I risked a glance over my shoulder and saw three figures silhouetted at the alley's entrance. They moved with the confidence of predators who knew their territory, spreading out to cut off possible escape routes.

I scrambled deeper into the maze of back streets, my lungs burning. The buildings pressed in closer here, creating a warren of tight spaces and sharp corners. I squeezed through a gap between a dumpster and a brick wall, scraping my arm but gaining precious seconds.

The connection cut out as I ducked under a low-hanging fire escape. Behind me, heavy footsteps echoed off the walls, accompanied by shouted curses. They were getting closer. I spotted a chain-link fence ahead, moonlight glinting off its metal diamonds. Beyond it lay what looked like an active construction site, skeletal buildings rising against the night sky.

It was either climb or turn back.

My hands found the cold metal of the fence, and I pulled myself up. The chain-link swayed under my weight, rattling betrayingly in the night air. Below, a voice shouted, "She's climbing!" Their footsteps quickened, and I heard the jingling of the fence as they started up after me.

At the top, my shirt caught on the sharp wire. I yanked it free, feeling threads tear, and dropped down on the other side. The impact shot through my ankles, but adrenaline kept me moving. The construction site was a maze of concrete pillars and half-finished walls, steel beams reaching toward the sky like massive rib bones.

I darted between stacks of lumber and piles of gravel, trying to lose them in the labyrinth. My pursuers had made it over the fence – I could hear them cursing as they searched, their voices echoing off bare concrete. A security light suddenly flashed on, triggered by our movement, and I pressed myself against a wall, heart threatening to burst from my chest.

"Check the second floor!" one of them called out. "She's gotta be here somewhere!"

Footsteps crunched on gravel, getting closer. I looked around desperately and spotted it – a piece of plywood covering what looked like a maintenance tunnel entrance. Without thinking, I pulled it back just enough to slip through, letting it fall quietly behind me.

The tunnel was pitch black and smelled of damp earth. I felt my way forward, one hand trailing along the cold wall. Water dripped somewhere ahead, the sound mixing with my ragged breathing. Above, their footsteps passed back and forth, muffled but still too close.

A beam of flashlight suddenly cut through gaps in the plywood above. I held my breath, pressing deeper into the shadows. "Hey!" a new voice called out. "This is security! Everyone clear out before I call the cops!"

The sound of running feet and cursing followed. They were leaving – but I wasn't about to climb back out the way I came.

I huddled in that dank tunnel, counting my breaths until they reached three hundred. The dripping water marked time like a broken metronome, each splash echoing off concrete walls. My phone's dim glow showed 3:00 AM – somehow both too late and too early.

Finally, when the only sounds were distant traffic and my own heartbeat, I eased the plywood up. Moonlight spilled into my hiding spot, revealing rust-colored puddles and scattered construction debris. I pulled myself out, muscles trembling from adrenaline and cold. The security light had gone dark, leaving the site draped in shadows.

I picked my way through the building, past silent machinery that loomed like sleeping giants. The construction gate's padlock hung open – a small mercy. Beyond it, the city sprawled out, its familiar grid of streets now seeming less threatening than the chaos I'd left behind.

The sound of male voices and approaching footsteps made me freeze. Without waiting to see if they belonged to my pursuers or just late-night wanderers, I turned and quickened my pace. My shoes barely made a sound now – I'd learned to walk quietly tonight, another survival skill I never wanted to need.

Hotels and high-end stores welcoming me back. A cab rolled past, its "VACANT" sign glowing like a beacon, but I couldn't risk stopping. Not yet. Not until I was sure.

My phone buzzed continuously now. Connor's texts had evolved from worried to frantic:
"Lexa, please answer me."
"Whatever's wrong, we can talk about it."
"Just let me know you're safe."
"I'm calling the police."

The last message made my stomach drop. I quickly typed back: "I'm okay. Got lost. Trying to find my way home."

His response was immediate: "Share your location. I'm coming to get you."

Before I could respond, my phone chimed with an incoming call. I answered, bracing myself.

"What were you thinking?" Connor's voice was tight with anger and fear. "Do you have any idea—" He broke off, taking a shaky breath. "Are you hurt?"

"No, I'm fine. I just... I couldn't sleep, and I thought a walk would help, but now I'm lost and—"

"Look around. What do you see? Any street signs? Landmarks?"

I spun in a circle, searching the darkness. "There's... there's a Walgreens on the corner. And I can see some kind of church with a really tall spire."

"St. Michael's," Connor said immediately. "Stay exactly where you are. I'm five minutes away." His doctor voice had taken over – calm, authoritative. "Stay on the phone with me."

I heard the sound of his car door slamming, then the engine starting. "I'm sorry," I whispered, sliding down to sit on the curb under the harsh fluorescent light of the Walgreens sign. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"We'll talk about it when I get there." His voice softened slightly. "Just... don't move, okay?"

Four minutes later, Connor's car screeched around the corner. He was out of the car before it fully stopped, still wearing his pajama pants and a hastily thrown-on Chicago Med hoodie. The look on his face was a mix of relief and fury I'd never seen before.

"I'm sorry," I said again, standing up on shaky legs.

He wrapped me in a fierce hug before holding me at arm's length to look me over. "Are you trying to give me a heart attack? Because as a cardiologist, I can tell you exactly what that feels like." His attempt at humor couldn't quite mask the tremor in his voice.

I rested my head against his chest. "I just couldn't sleep."

Connor guided me toward the car, then landed a firm swat to my backside that made me yelp. "If you can't sleep, you read a book or watch TV, or wake me up," he said, his voice rough with lingering fear. "You don't wander the streets of Chicago alone at night. Ever."

"Sorry," I mumbled, sliding into the passenger seat and wincing slightly. The leather was cold against my bare legs – I'd left wearing only sleep shorts and a t-shirt.

Connor got behind the wheel, then turned the car around with more force than necessary. His knuckles were white against the steering wheel. "It's not your fault, it's mine. I should have stayed awake last night." He blew out a long breath, then reached over and turned up the heat when he noticed me shivering. "I just... when I went to check on you and found your bed empty..." He shook his head, unable to finish the sentence.

The streetlights painted alternating patterns of light and shadow across his face as we drove, highlighting the worry lines around his eyes.

"I really am sorry," I whispered. "I won't do it again."

Connor's hand found mine across the center console and squeezed. "I know, kiddo. I know."