What Happened to Adelaide Dove Ray

By Aadhya Narwadkar

She found herself lying on the ground.

She had no idea where she was. The only memory she had was of wounds and screams. She woke up only to find herself on a worn, old bed in a room that looked so old, she could’ve sworn it was built centuries ago.

Her head hurt. Her vision was blurred. She could not remember her name.

What was it again? she thought.

She tried to make sense of her situation, but her thoughts were drowned out by the pounding in her head. Before she could take any action, the world dissolved around her.

…

The next time she awoke, lights flashed into her eyes.

This did not help the ache that remained in her head.

A figure in a white coat hovered next to the bed on which she lay.

‘Hello? Hello? Can you hear me?’

Her brain felt fuzzy from whatever drug they had put into her system.

‘Adelaide?’

The utterance of her name jolted her back to reality. She sat up in her bed as her vision cleared, and she took in the scene around her.

She was lying amidst what was undoubtedly a hospital room, with a few other beds around her, a cupboard and table for equipment, and an old doctor standing next to her. He seemed to be asking the same questions over and over again.

‘Hello? Adelaide? Can you hear me?’

‘Yes, yes,’ Adelaide managed to croak out. ‘What happened to me?’

‘Ah,’ the doctor nodded and took a seat beside her. ‘Do you remember anything from last night?’

She dove into her memories, scavenging bits and pieces of whatever she remembered. At last, the events of the previous night hit her like a speeding train.‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Most of it.’

The doctor pulled a pen and notepad out of seemingly nowhere and cleared his throat. ‘If you could just narrate whatever you remember for me, it would be quite helpful.’

Adelaide knew it was best to cooperate with the person who had probably just saved her life, and so she did.

‘I… I remember walking home from the subway. At night. Alone.’

‘Yes, yes, very good. Keep going.’ The doctor encouraged her.

‘I remember my flat was a few blocks ahead when Dove called me. To ask me where I was, I think. I just hung up the phone when something, or someone, grabbed me from behind.’ She fell silent for a while, trying to recollect the details.

‘I don’t remember how I got there, but I know I was in a house. An old, wooden house, with cracked windows, and ivy growing over it, and stuff like that. I know somebody shoved me in there, and I remember screaming till my voice was gone. Nothing after that. I don’t remember who it was or anything about the person. Nothing till I woke up in there with barely any memory, just to pass out again. Why, though? What’s happening? What happened to me? Why are you writing all this down?’

‘You need to calm down, Adelaide. All your questions are valid, and all of them have answers. Just remain patient until I return.’ With this, he left the room.

She could not remain patient.

A few minutes after he left, Adelaide swung herself from the bed and padded across the room and towards the door barefoot. She walked shakily across the marble tiles and entered the long hallway outside her room. Nurses and other patients bustling around seemed indifferent about seeing a young woman in a fairly bad condition walking around barefoot with no support.

Adelaide caught sight of the old doctor as he turned the corner ahead of her and decided to follow him. 

She wove through the small crowd at the end of the hallway and found herself face-to-face with police inspectors. Her breath caught in her chest, she merely gaped at the officers conversing with the old doctor. The doctor turned around and spotted her just as she was about to back away from the scene.

‘Ah! I knew you would follow. Impatient girl she is, officer,’ he added with a chuckle. ‘Come and join us, Adelaide. We have filed a police complaint regarding your kidnapping and assault.’

‘Oh,’ was all she could say.

The doctor ushered her into a seat and the tall officer with a large moustache into the one next to her. The officer who remained standing was thin and lanky with a large, protruding nose. He reminded Adelaide of Squidward from SpongeBob.

‘Good morning, Ms. Ray,’ The officer with the moustache began. ‘Is it alright if I call you Adelaide?’

She nodded in response.

‘Ok then, Adelaide. My name is DS Thorne, and I am here to help you in your case. I understand that you were found abandoned in a bad state in an old shack near Morley Road today morning. What happened to you last night was truly a traumatizing experience. I am sure it must be terrible having to live with those memories, but we promise to find your assailant as fast as time permits. We will require help from you, though. Dr. Wells has already informed me of your recounting of the incident, but I will require an official statement. Do you think you’re up to that?’

Adelaide nodded in assent. She started repeating the things she told Dr. Wells, answering DS Thorne’s questions whenever he asked any, while Squidward took notes.

Once she finished, the officers departed with her statement and reassurances of finding the criminal as soon as possible, leaving her with Dr. Wells, who was speaking with someone on his phone.

He finished his call and turned to Adelaide once again. ‘I understand you have a roommate by the name of Dove Harlow? She has arrived to pick you up. I think you are well enough to be discharged now, unless you feel otherwise?’

‘No, no, I think I’ll go home now.’

‘Very well. You may collect the things you had on you when we found you from the counter right there. I’ll just run and grab your prescribed medication in a minute.’

The thought occurred to her just then- the person might have stolen items from her bag and purse. She collected them from the designated counter and began to check all her belongings, but none of them seemed misplaced. Her phone was switched off, though, and she had no idea whether the attacker had done that or the hospital staff. 

She switched it on to eighty-three missed calls from Dove and notifications from almost every person she knew. Just as she finished verifying the presence of her belongings, Dr. Wells returned with the prescriptions and medicines.

He began explaining the instructions for each pill when a shrill shriek caught them by surprise. Adelaide turned to notice her overjoyed roommate, who rushed in and put her arms around Adelaide before she could take in more than her short crop of purple-highlighted hair. 

Dove’s warm embrace made Adelaide relax into her arms and hold her closer. She could barely imagine the terror that her best friend must have felt when Adelaide did not return the previous night. She knew she panicked and made a scene even when Dove merely did not pick up her calls. The two of them looked out for each other in ways like this.

As they pulled away from each other, tears glistened in Dove’s eyes, and Adelaide held her trembling hands tight.

‘Oh my gosh, I can’t believe this. Addy! Are you alright? Are you better? What did they do to you? Gods, I got here as fast as I could, but they weren’t letting me in! Apparently, you were to have no visitors. Oh, stupid me! I was so worried when you didn’t get home, and your phone was off, and-‘

‘Shush now, Dove,’ Adelaide broke her off. ‘I’m here now, and that’s what matters. Relax, it’s okay. Whoever it was didn’t harm me much. Honestly, I wonder why he even kidnapped me. He didn’t steal anything, he barely hurt me, he didn’t ask for ransom, he just took me there, drugged me, and left.’

‘But that doesn’t matter, he took you nevertheless.’ She took a deep breath in and out. 

‘They’ll find him,’ Adelaide comforted her. ‘They have to.’

…

Almost an hour later, Dove’s car turned at the corner right before their apartment building. 

Dove helped Adelaide climb the three flights of steps to the little two-bedroom flat they rented. It was a small but homely flat, and the girls had loved it ever since they moved in. 

Dove and Adelaide had known each other at uni and had grown close since they both studied the same foundational design. They got asked if they were related a lot, but the fact that Adelaide’s middle name was Dove, was purely coincidental. Though each chose a different career from the other, they decided to move into the same flat. Three years later, they still called that very flat home. 

 Their flat was also one of Dove’s first real projects. As an interior designer, she was the one who turned that small, bare flat into a place nobody would ever want to leave- with Adelaide’s help, of course.

The two of them stepped over the ornate doorway that took them around a week to execute, and Adelaide finally stepped into a place where she had no danger to look out for.

As soon as they entered, Dove deposited her roommate onto the couch in the living room and ran to bring out a platter of food for her. 

‘I’m sure the breakfast at the hospital was lousy. Let me give you something nice, Addy.’

Adelaide actually didn’t mind the beans on toast with tea that the hospital had provided, but food at home was food at home.

After a hearty meal of shepherd’s pie and creamy mashed potatoes, Dove ushered Adelaide into her room to get some rest. She’d already missed work that day, and the next day was a Sunday, so she had enough time to relax and recuperate before resuming her life.

Post all those questions and assurances about the events of the previous night, Adelaide now had no idea what she really felt regarding her case. Of course, she was afraid, and also curious as to who the attacker might be, but she barely felt any anger toward her assailant.

Adelaide never had many enemies. Not in primary school, not in secondary school, not in sixth form, not at uni, and not at work. Architecture is a job in which intense conflicts and competitions can break out between team members if not united on a topic, but somehow Adelaide had always managed to remain cool-headed and even, both in and outside her job.

It’s true, she overthought everything, but that was partly the reason for her being prepared for every possible situation. Apparently, she hadn’t been prepared for the one last night, though.

As the gentle arms of sleep began to embrace her, she made a mental note to never leave the house alone or unprotected again.

…

Adelaide woke up feeling as if she was being watched. 

She opened her eyes with a start and scanned the room that was getting darker as the sun set. She glanced at the clock. She had slept through the afternoon into the late evening. As she sat up on her bed, she noticed Dove perched in a corner of her bed, her violet hair blending in perfectly with the dimming color of the walls.

Dove was startled as Adelaide jerked herself free from the tangles of her blanket and rose to sit next to her.

‘Hey,’ she whispered as she gently laid a hand on Dove’s shoulder. ‘What are we going to do tonight?'

Dove seemed hesitant. ‘Well, originally, you were supposed to go out to dinner with Ellis, Noelle, and the rest of your group, but I think it’s safer to stay in tonight. You know they’ll understand.’

Adelaide probably should’ve agreed with her, but instead-

‘No, why can’t we go out anyway? I’ve honestly been feeling quite down all day, what with the hospital and police and whatnot- I think this would be perfect.’

Dove seemed even more worried than before, if that was possible. ‘Are you sure? I mean, I don’t think we should take the risk. And I’m definitely not letting you leave the house alone.’

‘Of course not. You should come with me! You already know Ellis and Noelle, and I can introduce you to more people.’

And so, the plan that Dove clearly did not approve of was formed and executed in the safest way possible.

Loaded with pepper sprays, small knives, and information from self-defence YouTube tutorials, the two of them ventured out of their apartment building, ready for anything that was in store for them.

While stepping out of their building, Adelaide noticed a handful of foxgloves scattered near the entrance.

Foxgloves were not rare flowers in their city, but most people preferred not to be associated with them in any way, since they were meant to be a sign of danger and threat. Adelaide, on the other hand, loved them. Tall and slender, their pale purple bells drooped like they were listening to some secret beneath the soil. Speckles dotted the insides of each bloom, as if nature had tried to warn anyone who got too close. Pretty, sure- but in the way a candle flame is pretty right before it burns you. She remembered someone once telling her they were poisonous. 

All of them. Every petal, every leaf. A handful of beauty that could stop a heart.

She supposed that’s what attracted her towards them, and that’s why she was surprised to find some of them outside her building, of all places.

She didn’t give it a second thought, though, as Dove hurried into her black Ford and pulled Adelaide into the passenger seat.

A fifteen-minute drive later, they arrived at the allocated restaurant and made their way to the rooftop, where all of Adelaide’s colleagues were seated. Most of them knew Dove through Adelaide’s stories, and the few who didn’t, quickly warmed up to her.

‘Hey, Del, you’re alright now, right?’ Ellis was one of Adelaide’s closest friends, and one of the first people Dove had contacted when she hadn’t reached home. ‘You seriously gave us such a scare last night. If you ever need me, or any of us, to drop you home or something, all you have to do is say the word, love.’

‘Yeah, seriously, Addy,’ Noelle nodded in assent. ‘Stop going home alone. I know you’re more than capable of handling yourself, but it’s a matter of safety. You never know what might happen in a place like this, or when. Who knows why that guy left last night? He might’ve done anything to you.’

That very question had been echoing through Adelaide’s mind ever since she left the hospital. 

Why did he leave her?

Did something or someone scare him off? And if they did, why didn’t he take her with him? Why leave the victim behind? If nobody scared him off, what was the purpose of the kidnapping and beating? 

Adelaide’s brain buzzed with activity as everyone moved on to pudding. She accepted her slice of trifle graciously, but her brain was somewhere else entirely.

The feeling of being watched had returned.

Of course, she was surrounded by people who were talking to her and looking at her, but this was different. She was being watched specifically. She knew it.

And this wasn’t like Dove watching her as she woke up from her long nap; this was dangerous. It was deadly. 

Somehow, Dove had noticed her worried expressions.

‘What’s wrong?’ she mouthed, a frown crossing her face.

Adelaide shook her head and took a long swig of wine before refilling.

Clearly, Dove disapproved of this alcohol intake, but Adelaide needed it to forget any thought of somebody watching her.

After meals were eaten, bottles were emptied, and the night was lived to the fullest, Adelaide found herself dumped in the backseat of Dove’s car with another friend, Sage, in the front.

With some difficulty and the use of various very colorful words, Dove managed to hoist a very drunk Adelaide up the building and into their flat, after dropping Sage off. She debated whether or not to leave Adelaide to sleep on the couch, but then thought better and half-dragged her to her room.

Adelaide barely had any energy to undress, but once she was in her bed, sleep would not come.

She looked around her dark room and noticed something new hanging on one of the walls. In her drunken state, she could barely make it out, but she was quite sure it was the painting of a man. 

This did not surprise her, as Dove kept adding and subtracting things all over the house- paintings, vases, cushions, small ornaments, anything, really. Once, she rearranged their living room while Adelaide visited her parents.

This particular painting was quite realistic, and Adelaide drifted off to sleep, making a mental note to ask Dove about it the next morning.

…

Hangovers were always the worst for Adelaide.

Whenever they went out drinking, Dove was the one who remained sober to take care of Adelaide, especially in the mornings after, when Adelaide got quite cranky.

That particular morning, Adelaide woke with a terrible headache and made her way to the loo as soon as she could open her eyes. After almost half an hour in there, she finally emerged to get dressed for the day.

As she began picking out outfit options for the day, she recalled the painting of a man that she had spotted the previous night, and her eyes made their way in that direction.

Adelaide froze.

Her lungs shrank to the size of fists, and her breathing shallowed. Panic curled up behind her ribs and started clawing to get out. Her already pounding brain could barely process this information.

Because the place where she saw the painting last night, now displayed an open window.

‘Dove,’ was all Adelaide could whisper.

‘Dove!’ she said, louder this time. ‘Dove!’

Her friend rushed into her room half-dressed and frantic. ‘Addy? What happened? Are you okay?’

Adelaide raised a shaky finger toward the window.

‘Somebody was watching me. A man.

Dove wasted no time in rushing over to the window and cautiously scanning the street below before pulling the curtains shut. She walked over to Adelaide and put a comforting arm around her.

‘It’s okay, it’s okay, Addy. There’s no one there now. Can you tell me what happened?’ She gently steered Adelaide out of her bedroom. 

‘Last- last night. He was there. At the window.’

‘Last night?’ Dove settled her friend into an armchair. ‘Then why did you call me now?’

‘Because I just realized it. I- I was drunk. I thought you hung up the painting of a man; it was dark. Then I woke up this morning and saw that it’s actually a window. I don’t know why I didn’t realize that.’

Her roommate raised her eyebrows skeptically. ‘Listen, babe, are you sure it was a man? ‘Cause you were pretty drunk last night- now, I’m not saying you imagined it- I’m just worried about you.’

Normally, Adelaide would never get agitated if she knew Dove was just concerned for her, but at that moment, it was all it took to make her snap.

‘No! Are you crazy? I didn’t imagine it. I know I was drunk, but I also know somebody was watching me at night.’

‘Addy, I get how you feel, I really do, but who would scale three floors of a plain apartment building in the middle of the night right when we got home? I know there was no one at the window when I was in your room.’

Adelaide’s brain had put two and two together already. ‘The person who kidnapped me. I don’t think he meant to let me go; that’s why he came back. That’s why he’s stalking me now.’

‘Stalking?’ Dove echoed. ‘I don’t know, I really think it was just some creep who watches girls through windows at random. And you know, it’s okay to be a little paranoid after what you went through, Ad.’

‘Paranoid again? I knew you wouldn’t believe me. You think I’m imagining it.’

‘That’s not what I said,’ insisted Dove. ‘I think you’re right, we should be more careful. What do you think we should do about this?’

‘I don’t know... go to the police? DS Thorne said I could talk to him whenever I liked, particularly if there was any information. I think this is serious enough to go inform him, right?’

‘Addy… you were under the influence of alcohol. I believe you, but I’m not sure that they will.’

‘They have to!’ she argued. ‘And they have to take me seriously.’ Adelaide hesitated before adding- ‘Did you see the foxglove flowers in front of our apartment yesterday?’

That caught Dove off guard. ‘What? I mean, yeah, but what does that have to do with anything?’

‘I’m beginning to think it wasn’t a coincidence. In all three years of living here, have you ever seen foxgloves anywhere around our area?’

‘When I think about it, not really,’ Dove pondered. ‘But that doesn’t mean anything. Somebody must’ve bought them like you do sometimes and dropped some.’ Her voice took on a lower tone. ‘Adelaide, don’t you think you’re trying to see meaning where there isn’t any? Maybe we should get dressed and have breakfast before we hastily make any decisions.’

This seemed rational to Adelaide, who returned to her room, drawing all the curtains of the house in the process.

After freshening up and getting dressed for the day, Adelaide had an inexplicable urge to head downstairs and check if the foxgloves were still there. She knew they most probably meant nothing, but she found solace in worrying over even the smallest things that could potentially be threatening.

Foxgloves were widely known as symbols of danger, and while Adelaide revelled in the beauty of the bright purple flowers, she knew most people avoided them like the plague due to their poisonous nature. 

Slipping downstairs for no real reason would not only be difficult and suspicious but also unsafe. And there was no way Dove would accompany Adelaide downstairs just to dwell on the possibility of random flowers being planted for Adelaide when more than forty people lived in the same building as they did.

Once breakfast was had and decisions were made, Dove retreated to her room to work on a project of hers. Adelaide was supposed to be reading, doing an assignment, or just chilling in the house, but instead she decided to sneak out.

The walls and shut windows of their tiny flat were suffocating her, which was why she decided to make a small trip out of the apartment for a quick breather. Armed with a pepper spray and her phone, she ventured out of the door and began descending the flight of stairs that they normally used instead of the old, slow elevator.

The cool air of the late afternoon pleasantly caressed her face as she emerged from the heated brick building. Outside, vehicles filled the roads, and pedestrians walked around casually. Her gaze fell, and sure enough, the foxgloves remained.

Adelaide counted eleven of them. Violent violet and pure pink in color, the deadly flowers seemed to scream beauty and danger at the same time. Just as she was about to move the flowers aside, she remembered an old tale that her mother once told her- that foxgloves were once used by the women of Wales to prevent evil from entering their homes.

She left them as they were.

A few minutes of peace later, the cold sensation of being watched returned. Adelaide looked up from the flowers and scanned the crowd around. A figure in particular stood out from the bustling activity in front of her. A young man dressed in black and beige was looking right at her. A dark mask covered his face, and a beanie covered his hair. Adelaide couldn’t recognize him, but as his eyes remained watching her, she wrapped her arms around herself and turned back towards her apartment.

…

That night, Adelaide slept next to Dove.

It was more out of fear than protection, or anything else. She locked and covered every door and window in the flat, sealing any entrance there was. Dove helped her in this process, understanding Adelaide’s sense of skepticism and need for safety.

The Principal of the architecture firm where Adelaide worked had reached out to her with sympathy and even offered her a leave on Monday if required, but Adelaide had turned him down. She claimed that getting back to work as soon as possible would help her get back a sense of normalcy, and that as a Project Manager, she couldn’t afford to take any leaves anyway.

So, arrangements were made accordingly.

It was decided that Dove would drop Adelaide off at her office every morning before heading to her own studio, and that Adelaide would either ride the subway with a colleague and be picked up by Dove at the station, or get a lift from a friend who lived in the same area as her. On days when Dove didn’t have to work, Adelaide would use her car for the journey. Clearly, this walking-home-alone-every-evening thing wasn’t working out for her.

Maybe this system wouldn’t help her in the long run, but it was enough to make Adelaide and those around her feel safe for the time being.

When she returned from work that day along with her roommate, Adelaide was surprised to find the foxgloves still scattered in front of the building. She was quite sure she’d seen the cleaner sweeping away the flowers that very morning as she left for work. 

She counted the flowers as she stared at them, puzzled. 

Ten.

One was missing.

Though she knew there was probably some rational explanation for this, it still didn’t sit right with her. She thought about it every moment as she drifted off to sleep in Dove’s room again.

…

The next few days passed in the same fashion- long, full of suspicion, and almost uneventful.

Every morning, Adelaide would notice the foxgloves lying in front of her apartment. Every morning, she would count them to find one less than there was the day before. 

At least two times a day, the feeling of being watched crept over Adelaide. Whether it was in the house, at work, or out somewhere with her friends, it always caused the same discomfort.

Every night, she would try to talk Dove into letting her report the face in the window, and every night, Dove would remind her that they didn’t have enough evidence.

From the third day of this cycle, Adelaide started noticing little things going wrong.

It started with a mug.

Adelaide returned from work one day to find a mug placed on the kitchen table. Not only was this odd, but it was also random, as it was one of the mugs that the girls never really used. Dove was still at her studio, and no one had been in the house since the two of them had left that morning. 

Well, as far as they knew.

Dove put it down to the forgetfulness of one of them, but Adelaide was rattled by the incident.

They both brushed it off, though, until the next day. And the next.

It might’ve been a crooked photograph, a misplaced file, or an open window that she was sure she closed. Adelaide found that the most random things were different in the course of her day. One day, she couldn’t ignore it anymore.

As Saturday morning dawned with five foxglove flowers resting outside the building steps, Adelaide woke up to the feeling of being watched again. 

She and Dove debated over the stalker theory for the tenth time, with Adelaide being forced to surrender once again, before they left for work. When Adelaide’s eyes swept over the remaining five flowers at her door, the familiar thought that they were meant to be some sort of countdown couldn’t help but rise in her mind.

The fact that she knew Dove didn’t believe her when she said that somebody was watching her every move didn’t help her situation at all. 

…

That evening, Adelaide was dismissed early, before Dove could finish work. So, Ellis and Noelle dropped her off at her apartment. 

As she bid goodbye to the couple and took the rickety elevator up to her floor, Adelaide felt the uncomfortable sensation settle over her again. No matter how many times she felt it, she could never get used to it. 

She stepped out of the elevator and reached her hand into her bag to retrieve the flat keys, when she noticed something.

The door was open.

The keys fell to the floor as her hand went limp.

Her brain couldn’t register the information. Her hand involuntarily reached for her phone and dialled 999, finger hovering over the call button as she gently pushed the door open with her free hand. As soon as she entered the flat, she knew somebody had been in there. Somebody apart from Dove and herself.

The chances of them forgetting to lock the door in the morning were relatively less, since Adelaide remembered running back up to the flat to double-check the lock before leaving that morning. She trod through the flat with soft footsteps, not wanting to alert anyone to her presence. 

After scanning every room and every corner of the flat, she deleted 999 from her keypad and called Dove instead. Once she retrieved the fallen keys from outside and checked to see that their spare key was exactly where they had hidden it, true panic settled over her.

Somebody had been in her house.

It was, undoubtedly, him. It had to be. Nobody else would know that they weren’t home during those hours of the day. Deep in thought, Adelaide stepped into her room, where another surprise awaited her.

The window was wide open.

The same window that she had mistaken for a painting six nights ago.

She froze, staring at it dumbfounded for an indefinite amount of time. The curtains fluttered due to the wind from outside as Adelaide approached them cautiously. Every inch of her brain screamed at her to back off and run away, but her body moved forward regardless.

She reached toward the curtains with her arms and-

‘Addy? Addy! Where are you?’

Never before had Adelaide been so relieved to hear her best friend’s voice echoing through the walls of their flat. She gratifyingly used this excuse to turn away from the window and move towards the source of Dove’s voice. 

‘Dove? Oh my gosh, you’re back!’ 

Adelaide fell into her arms and refused to let go for a while. Once she did, she spilled out the entire story before sinking onto the couch with her head in her hands. The first thing Dove did was check the entire flat once again. She informed Adelaide that she had shut the window in her room and that there was nobody outside before heading out the door to check the rest of the floor.

The two of them spent the next fifteen minutes asking neighbours and other people who were usually around the house if they had noticed any suspicious activity throughout the day. Knackered from the long day at work, scared, and defeated, the two roommates retired to their bed after a calming cup of chamomile tea with plans to visit the police station first thing next morning. 

…

The police station was not as impressive as Adelaide had expected it to be.

It was a gray, boxy little building with weather-stained signs and creaky metal gates. Inside, the air smelled faintly of paper, cleaning solution, and something metallic. The reception area was basic—plastic chairs lined one wall, a scratched desk behind a thick glass screen, and posters about crime prevention and missing persons pinned to corkboards. A single officer sat behind the glass, scrolling through a computer, barely glancing up. 

Adelaide walked up to the officer and asked if she could meet DS Thorne.

‘Adelaide Dove Ray,’ she replied when asked her name and purpose of visit. ‘There was a kidnapping and abuse case filed on my behalf 6 days ago. I’m here to talk to him about it. This is my roommate, Dove Harlow. No, we don’t have an appointment. Really? He said I could drop by if I ever needed help. Alright, we’ll wait.’

Twenty minutes of silently pacing the room later, the officer at the desk announced that they could go into the fifth room to the left of the hallway. Dove and Adelaide did just that, pausing after knocking at the door.

‘Come in,’ called a deep, familiar voice.

Detective Sergeant Thorne’s room may have been small, but it had quite an effect.

The room was nothing like the rest of the police station. It looked well-designed and quite expensive, to be honest. A large mahogany desk with leather chairs glistened while DS Thorne sat on the other side. The fireplace was a magnificent thing, but it was bare and cold this morning due to the warm sunlight streaming in through the windows. She felt Dove staring at every minute detail in the room with fascination. 

Adelaide noticed Squidward standing next to DS Thorne, reading a report of some kind.

The sergeant rose to welcome the two girls and requested them to take a seat.

‘Well, Adelaide, what brings you here?’ 

Adelaide began her story from the face in the window.

She told him every detail that came to her mind, things that she probably should not have shared but did anyway. It must have been an impulse reaction in human beings to spill every bit of information that they think could help their situation at the slightest sign of danger. 

Once Adelaide finished her story, DS Thorne shook his head slowly. Adelaide didn’t realize it at first, but he was smiling. 

‘Tell me, has anyone contacted you? Messages? Threats?’

Adelaide shook her head. ‘I think the flowers are threats enough.’

The look of concern on his face gave rise to a kind of anger in Adelaide’s mind.

‘Adelaide, I don’t want you taking this the wrong way, but you’ve been through a very traumatic situation.’

Her jaw tensed. ‘You think I’m making it up.’

‘I didn’t say that. I just—these kinds of experiences, sometimes they’re tied to anxiety. Or trauma responses. Have you spoken to anyone recently? A counsellor, maybe?’

She stared at him, heat rising in her chest. ‘So that’s it? I survived being kidnapped, and now every time I feel afraid, you think it’s all in my head?’

‘I’m not saying that.’ His tone was calm, too calm. ‘But we can’t open an investigation without anything concrete. That doesn’t mean we’re ignoring you. If anything escalates—if you receive something, or see someone clearly—we’ll absolutely follow up.’

She stood up. The chair scraped sharply against the floor. ‘Right. Brilliant. Thank you for your time, DS Thorne. I hope you’ll look for me if I disappear.’

He sighed exasperatedly, running his hand over his stubble. ‘You’re not going to disappear, Adelaide. And I know we’ll find the person who kidnapped you in no time. Believe me.’

‘How am I supposed to believe you when you don’t believe me?’ With that, she turned away from the officer and Squidward and headed towards the door. ‘Let’s go, Dove. You were right, this place is useless.’

Outside, the sky started darkening, and Adelaide suddenly felt very, very alone.

…

On Monday, the therapist arrived.

She introduced herself as a ‘support specialist’, but Adelaide knew what she was really being paid for. She also knew who had called her.

DS Thorne had tried to contact Adelaide and Dove multiple times, but Adelaide had given up any hopes of being helped by the police.

The therapist asked Adelaide to call her Naomi.

‘I’m here to talk, if you’d like to. No diagnoses, no files. Just someone outside the noise.’

Adelaide gave a small nod, arms folded. ‘You’re not a psychologist?’

‘I have training,’ Naomi said lightly, ‘but I’m not here to treat you. I’m here because the world’s been unkind to you lately, and it might help to talk about that. Or not. You set the tone.’

Silence.

‘The police think I’m imagining things.’

‘Do you think you are?’

Adelaide looked at her. ‘No. But… I keep second-guessing. Like maybe the fear’s from before. Still hanging around.’

Naomi nodded, unjudging. ‘Sometimes the body remembers things long after they’ve passed. But sometimes fear is real. Just because something happened once doesn’t mean it’s not happening again.’

Adelaide exhaled slowly. That wasn’t what she expected.

‘You don’t think I’m broken?’

Naomi smiled softly. ‘I think you're trying to make sense of a world that stopped making sense. That’s not broken. That’s brave.’

Adelaide didn’t say anything, but she didn’t get up.

The next morning, Adelaide didn’t go to work. Instead, she sat up researching the symbolization of foxgloves and spent most of her morning sitting on the front steps of the apartment building, watching the two remaining flowers dance softly in the breeze.

An hour or two of this later, she noticed him again. Dove had told Adelaide not to step out of the house if she could avoid it, so she hadn’t known about Adelaide’s frequent trips downstairs to keep the flowers company and wonder for the hundredth time- what would happen when all the flowers were gone?

Every time she came here, it was his presence that made her retreat. Never dressed the same two times, always wearing a mask and a beanie. Technically speaking, it could have been any number of people who were surprised by seeing a young woman sitting outside a building with highly poisonous flowers, but Adelaide knew it was him. 

The same person every time.

She didn’t feel as threatened by him as she used to, now more puzzled by his actions. He never stole anything from their flat, but he was there. He came frequently. Nobody knew about it except him and her. 

Adelaide was beginning to get an idea of what would happen when all the foxgloves were gone.

She woke up on Wednesday morning, watching the clouds darken and the rain thunder down outside Dove’s window. It was one of those mid-week public holidays no one remembered the reason for, just grateful for the lie-in. She had already decided to stay home for the next few days, anyway.

Only one wet and deadly flower remained.

…

That evening, the girls curled up in the kitchen with mugs in their hands, watching the rain pour down outside. 

Dove broke the silence.

‘You’re brooding again. That’s, what? Your third glass tonight?’

‘It’s the only thing that keeps me tethered to this dimension.’

‘Mm. Should we start worrying if you move on to whiskey?’

‘Too late,’ said Adelaide, quietly. They both laughed, soft and warm.

Silence for a moment.

‘You’ve been… jumpy lately.’ Dove’s voice took on a gentler tone. 

‘I know.’

‘More than usual, I mean. The other night, I found you… just standing in the hallway. Lights off. Not moving.’

‘I thought I heard something.’

Her brow furrowed with concern. ‘Addy-‘

‘I’m fine, Dove,’ she cut in. ‘Really. Just tired of all this.’

‘You promise you’d tell me if something was wrong?’

Adelaide smiled. ‘Of course. I always tell you everything, don’t I?’

‘Yeah, but not always the first time.’

Adelaide didn’t respond at first- she turned away and looked out of the window.

‘Do you think people can… know something bad’s going to happen? Without knowing what it is?’

‘Like a gut feeling?’ Dove asked, perplexed.

‘Worse. Like the future is pacing outside your door, and you know the door is going to open regardless of whether you want it to.’

Dove set her mug down and walked over to Adelaide. She wrapped her arms around her best friend from behind and settled her chin on Adelaide’s shoulder.

‘Then lock the door. Double-bolt it. Put a chair against it, and I’ll sit right here with a kitchen knife and a death wish.’

Adelaide laughed into her sleeve, tears welling up in her eyes without warning. 

‘You’re a terrible comfort.’

‘Mm. You love me, though.’

‘I really do.’

…

The rain didn’t stop.

It went on all night and all of the next morning. 

Dove stayed home with Adelaide that day. A lot of people were taking leave from work due to the storm. The subway had shut down, and so had most bus services.

It was late afternoon when the girls decided to order takeaway since neither of them could be bothered to cook.

The thunder rolled, rain lashed against the window, streaking the glass with crooked lines. Adelaide sat curled on the sofa, half-watching the muted television, fingers wrapped tightly around a mug that had long gone lukewarm.

The bathroom door was closed, steam curling from underneath. Dove had music playing—something soft and lo-fi, blending oddly with the storm.

Just then, Adelaide received a text message- Parcel, Flat 12: Adelaide Dove Ray.

She almost called out to Dove, but paused. She didn’t want to bother her. Dove had done enough—always watching over her, gently stepping around her paranoia like it was something delicate and easily cracked.

‘I’ll just be a minute,’ she murmured to no one.

She slipped on Dove’s jumper from the coat hook, the sleeves too long. Her socks were mismatched. The air felt heavy with static as she opened the door, just a sliver, and glanced into the hallway.

Empty. Still.

She told herself not to be dramatic. It was just a parcel.

Just a parcel.

Still, her hand hovered over the doorframe for a second longer than necessary. That awful feeling had returned—that itch over the back of her neck. The same one she felt in his presence. The same one she tried to forget.

Thunder cracked again, louder this time. She flinched. Then she pulled the door shut behind her and disappeared down the stairs.

She didn’t lock the door behind her.

…

Dove’s POV

It’s been six months since Addy disappeared.

I’m not sure how I’ve been managing myself. I don’t think I have. 

Naomi has helped. The police haven’t.

The buyers are supposed to arrive today. I can’t live in this apartment anymore.

There are too many memories.

For the first few weeks, I barely spent any time at home. Most of it was out searching with friends or the police. Then her parents visited. I lived with Ellis and Noelle for a month. Now I have to sell it.

As I walk out of the shower before the buyers arrive, my head is flooded with memories.

Memories of that day.

I walked into the living room, water still in my ears, the silence in the flat feeling wrong. The front door wasn’t fully closed, and Addy’s tea was still warm. I’d received a text from her- Parcel downstairs. Be back in a sec.

Later, when I inquired, I found out that the parcel had never arrived. The delivery boy had gotten stuck in the storm.

I dress myself patiently, taking deep breaths so the memories and emotions won’t take control of my mind. Just what Naomi taught me.

No matter what anybody says, I know her disappearance was my fault. 

Maybe if I had taken her more seriously, not have left her side at all. Maybe then she would still be here. Laughing and teasing me as she took sips of whiskey and told me about the gossip from work.

Thorne never could help her. 

She needed to be heard more than understood.

No one knows that better than I.

We all messed up terribly.

They tell me to have faith, but I knew I would never see her again the second I found our flat empty.

Maybe that’s why I feel the faint glimpse of hope cross my face when I notice twelve foxglove flowers lying outside our building again.

He came back for me.

THE END

By Aadhya Narwadkar