I froze in my spot as I looked at the dark figure. Before I could make any moves they walked to the window and closed it shut and closed the blinds.

The room was now completely dark, the moonlight no longer bringing in any light. I held my breath as I sat exposed on the bed, I could no longer see the person. I could only hear their soft breathing and footsteps moving closer to me along the wooden floor.

They can't hurt you.

The thought, no matter how true it was still didn't settle my rampant mind, I remained petrified.

The footsteps were now next to me and before I could form another thought, the room flooded with light.

I winced at the brightness and rubbed my eyes. Having finally adjusted to the light, I turned to the figure wearing all black. His back was to me but he turned and I gasped when I saw his face.

It was Elijah.

He lowered the hoodie on his black sweater and moved to the bed.

I was completely taken aback, I was sure that he was innocent especially after the conversation I heard. But seeing him now, standing in front of me, I knew I was wrong.

He pushed the bed a few feet and it moved with ease with his brute strength. He lowered himself on the floor beside his bed and pulled out a knife.

He traced one of the wooden floor panels with the knife and it popped up. Picking up the wooden piece, he placed it gently to the side and reached his hand into the hole. A moment later he pulled out a large Manila folder and set it on the bed.

I moved over as he stood up from the floor and occupied the space next to me. Sickness washed over me at being this close to him. I couldn't believe that I had fallen for his words.

Poor Carter.

He probably believed his brother even more than I had. I hope his unyielding loyalty and faith wouldn't bite him in the ass.

I watched as Elijah settled next to me and poured the contents of the folder onto the bed.

Letters and pictures flooded out of the envelope and my eyes widened as I saw who was in the pictures.

It was me.

There were pictures of me alone in the street, in my room, in the shower...

I gagged and my hand shot to my mouth as I realized what this was. Elijah picked up one of the letters and laid it flat on the bed in front of him.

He silently read it and I leaned forward to look over it as well.

I swallowed as I read the yellow letter. It didn't make sense to me that Elijah would write a letter to himself, threatening himself.

What if he was telling the truth? But if he was why did he lie to Carter and say he burned it?

The questions in my head were endless. I watched Elijah furrow his brow as he went through more letters and pictures.

After a few moments, he held up one picture and stared at it. It was a picture of me at what looked like a coffee shop. The picture seemed to be taken from a car because I was able to make out a manicured hand with red nail polish in the driver's side wing mirror.

"Shit." He muttered.

What are you thinking?

Elijah set the picture down as he picked up his phone and tapped a few keys. He held up the phone to his ear and impatiently tapped his leg as he waited.

"Skylar, you have twenty minutes to meet me at Aaliyah's...I don't give a shit how late it is, if you'd like to remain a free woman I suggest you come ASAP...come in through the side door, if you are late I will go to the police with the information I have on you, Skylar."

With that, he hung up and tossed his phone aside. He ran his hand through his hair in frustration as he toyed with his lip ring.

He let out a long sigh and laid on his side on my bed, pulling one of my pillows to him. I watched him as he buried his nose in my pillow and a lone tear escaped his eye.

"I will find who took you from me." He whispered.

I found myself laying down next to him and facing him. I couldn't figure out why he was here. He told Carter not to investigate my death because it was too dangerous, yet here he was.

I contemplated letting Elijah know that I was here but decided against it. My trust in him was flip-flopping and I wasn't sure of anything when it came to him.

For all I knew, if I reached out to him he would call someone to exorcise the house. He wasn't like Carter in that way. NOT the type to sit with an ouija board and speak to a ghost.

He was more like me, yelling at teens in movies who did dumb shit like that.

My mom walked into the room and looked between us with a scowl. "I thought I heard something."

I looked at her and then back at Elijah. My mother was never a fan of him. She never admitted it but I knew she judged him. His piercings and tattoos were already enough to warn her away but his past with drug dealing completely repelled her.

"What's he doing here?" She asked as she crossed her arms.

"He's trying to find out who killed me," I said softly.

Her strong demeanor faltered as she looked at him and she tilted her head. "It wasn't him?" She asked.

"No."

Elijah's phone began ringing and he picked up his phone to answer it. "Skylar, I'm in her room...pick the lock or something."

He hung up the phone and swung his legs over the bed and began bouncing it nervously on the floor.

The more he repeated the name, the more familiar it sounded. I searched my mind for any connection to the same when I suddenly remembered my funeral program.

There was a Skylar Lexington who was supposedly my best friend. She wrote the long quote about me making her run from the police.

"Mom do you know Skylar?" I asked.

"She's your best friend, ever since elementary." She said with a small smile.

I still didn't quite remember her but she burst through the door with her curly blonde hair swinging in all directions, I got the migraine of a lifetime.

I tried on the black mini dress that Skylar had insisted I wear and inwardly cringed as I watched myself in the mirror.

"I look like shit," I said.

"You look fabulous." She retorted dramatically with a giggle.

"Yeah, right," I said as I ran my hands down the dress. The black dress clung to the curves I didn't have and it made me feel insecure.

"So...are you dressing sexy for Carter or are we with Elijah tonight?" She teased.

I tossed her a playful glare and flipped my hair over my shoulder. "Firstly, Elijah and I are on a break. Secondly, nothing is going on with Carter and me, it was just a kiss. Third and lastly, I'm dressing for neither of them tonight. I have a date."

Skylar raised a sculpted brow at me and grinned. "Spill."

"Well, his name is Patrick."

"How did you two meet?" She asked.

"On Instagram."

She furrowed her brows and crossed her arms, pausing whatever task she was doing and giving me her full attention.

"What's his last name?" She asked.

I searched my brain for an answer but came up empty. "Umm... it starts with a B," I said unsurely.

She shook her head at me and her face became serious. "How do you know he's not a catfish, has he ever sent a picture of himself?"

"He has pictures on his profile," I replied.

"That's not what I-"

"Skylar. I'll be fine." I assured.

"You can't always trust people you meet-"

"Yeah, online. I know. But I'll be okay." I said again, my tone dripping with irritation.

She walked over to me and cupped my cheeks as she gave me a sly grin. "You, Aaliyah Monroe, are going to get yourself killed."

She couldn't have been more right as I thought about the situation I was in now. Memories of Skylar began flooding in and my chest ached for the girl in front of me. My best friend, my partner in crime...

She crossed her arms at the doorway and shook her head. "Why am I here, Elijah? Why are you even here?"

Elijah turned to the stack of pictures and held up the one he had been looking at earlier.

"Because...I want to know why you were taking pictures of Aaliyah."