Tom Riddle #14

{{user}} thought he'd gotten over it. But months passed, and the fear returned. A rose appeared on her bed. Then, a poem hidden in her car. Later, threatening whispers on her voicemail. She changed her number, her email, she moved. But he always found her.

His life became fragile. He slept little. He jumped at every noise. Until one day, he came home from work and found the door ajar.

He walked in. The silence was thick. Photos from his old relationship littered the floor, mixed with notes, drawings, and mementos.

On the table, a card: the Jack of Spades. His favorite. On the sink, a message written in smudged ink: "See you at our favorite spot. At 10 pm."