Data ghost

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Chapter 6: Data Ghosts

Theo arrived just before sunrise, wearing a hoodie, dark jeans, and an expression that flickered between worry and focus.

Lena hadn’t slept. Her hands trembled slightly as she let him in, her voice catching in her throat when she said, “Thanks for coming.”

He nodded, stepping inside like it was a war zone. “You sure you want to do this?”

She didn’t answer. She just pointed at her laptop.

They sat side by side at the kitchen table, the only sound the hum of the fridge and the quiet clack of Theo’s fingers on the keyboard.

Lena watched him open tools she didn’t recognize, screens flickering with code and metadata. It looked like magic—but there was nothing magical about the way her stomach knotted as each minute passed.

Theo narrowed his eyes, zooming in on a particular image Kai had posted.

“This one,” he said. “It has embedded data. It shouldn’t, if he’s careful. People like this usually scrub it.”

“What’s in it?”

“Let’s find out.”

It took a few minutes, but then Theo leaned back. “It was taken two blocks from here. That alley behind the corner store. GPS tag confirms it.”

Lena’s mouth went dry.

She thought back—two weeks ago, maybe three. She had walked home late after a trip to the art supply store. She remembered cutting through that alley. She’d even taken a photo of the neon sign reflected in a puddle.

“He was there,” she whispered.

Theo’s voice dropped. “He’s close. Has been, probably for a while.”

She felt the air thin, like she couldn’t breathe. “Why me?”

Theo looked at her. “It’s not just you.”

He turned his screen around.

There were more profiles. Threads from other women, photographers, artists. All with eerily similar stories: messages from @Kai.Shadows, cryptic compliments, familiarity that felt too sharp to be casual.

Some of them had gone private. Some had deleted everything.

One thread ended with just four words:

“He found my address.”

Lena stood up. “I need to get out of here.”

Theo was already nodding. “Grab what you need. Essentials only.”

As she moved through her apartment—backpack slung over her shoulder, sketchbook stuffed inside—she paused at the canvas she’d finished two nights ago.

The figure. Shadowed, faceless, reaching.

She turned it around to face the wall.

They left the apartment twenty minutes later. The sky was a pale gray, light beginning to seep through cracks in the buildings.

Theo drove. His car was messy—camera bags, crumpled receipts, a half-eaten protein bar—but it felt safer than her apartment had.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“Somewhere he can’t follow you,” Theo said. “And somewhere we can dig deeper. You said he never showed his face, right?”

“Not once.”

“Then let’s make him show it.”

Lena looked out the window, the city blurring past. She felt weightless—like a thread had snapped and now she was drifting into something unknown.

But for the first time in days, she didn’t feel alone.

And maybe that was enough.

For now.