Sarah
When I heard his voice in the dark, cold fear gripped me like a vice.
My breath hitched in my throat, my heartbeat pounding in my ears louder than the music echoing from the ballroom. I knew that voice. Smooth. Charming. Familiar in the worst kind of way.
"He shouldn't have let you leave alone," he had said.
Did he follow me to the bathroom?
I turned slowly, but I couldn't see him. It was pitch dark.
"What…why did you follow me?" I asked.
"I wanted to speak to you alone, and now it is as good a time as any. You really don't remember me, do you?" he said softly, tilting his head. "But I remember you."
Something in his voice had changed. It wasn't just charm anymore. It was nostalgia twisted with something darker.
"You were always so quiet," he continued, his tone low and intimate, "always hiding behind your nanny's skirts. But you would look at me. Do you remember that? You would watch me."
