That night, Adex didn't sleep. He sat at his desk, repeatedly turning the pages of the Monroe file, trying to decode the older woman's silence. Most people dismissed her as mad. She said she'd holed up in some cabin in northern New Mexico, muttering about shadows and skin-walkers. But the way she described her possession—the subtle invasion, the dreams that weren't dreams, the way the thing made her laugh when she should've cried—matched Jill too closely to ignore.
He reached for his phone, thumb hovering over a number he hadn't dialled in two years.
And then—he called it.
It rang once. Twice. Then the line went dead.
No voicemail. No tone. Just silence.
He stared at the phone.
The silence wasn't empty. It was deliberate.
Adex sat hunched over his laptop, eyes darting between tabs, fingers tapping the keyboard with increasing intensity. The screen was cluttered with open windows—video interviews, articles, old blog posts—everything connected to Linda Monroe. No matter where his searches began, they always returned to her name. She was the centre of the web, and Adex was willingly becoming entangled in it.
He hadn't realised how late it had gotten until a quick knock at the door shook him awake. His heart jumped. It was almost midnight. Nobody should be visiting at this time. He stopped, staring at the door for a time, then gently stood up and proceeded towards it, taking caution with each step.
He opened the door.
"Ben? "What the hell are you doing here?" Adex enquired, his tone betraying perplexity and concern.
"I tried calling you, but your cell phone is off. I decided I'd come over to make sure you were okay."
Ben entered without waiting for an invitation. His eyes scanned the room. Papers were everywhere: notes on the floor, articles fastened to the wall, names written in red ink, and pages torn from books. It resembled a detective's lair rather than an apartment.
"You're doing this again," Ben said, collapsing onto the couch.
Adex barely glanced at him as he sat back at the laptop. "It's about Jill."
Ben exhaled loudly. "When are you going to give yourself a break, man?"
"I will. When I figure out what the hell's happening to her," Adex replied, not taking his eyes off the screen.
Ben rubbed his face, frustrated. "You don't have to go this deep, Adex. It's getting obsessive. And honestly, I think you're wasting your time."
"I'm close. I'm finally getting close to whatever's inside Jill—whatever's taken hold."
Ben stared at him, stunned. "Did she even tell you she's possessed? Has she asked for your help? This girl's shut you out more times than I can count, and here you are, losing sleep, chasing shadows for her?"
Adex continued to type, the screen's glow lighting his face. He didn't stop or look up.
"I don't need her to ask," he said calmly. "I know something's wrong."
Adex continued typing for a minute, eyes fixed on the screen, before leaning back in his chair. He ran his hands through his hair, his shoulders tense and obvious. Ben continued to examine him, hoping for a sign that he would snap out of his obsession—but Adex had other plans.
"I believe I finally understand what is happening to her," he remarked, his voice low but firm. "It is not only an emotional breakdown or a mental spiral. Whatever it is, it is real. And I believe I've traced it back to something that began years ago, possibly before Jill arrived here."
Ben scoffed lightly, shaking his head. "You're not a damn exorcist, Adex. You're not some supernatural expert. Whatever's happening to Jill isn't your burden to carry."
But Adex didn't flinch. He turned in his chair and stared Ben dead in the eye. "I am not trying to be a hero. But if no one else can figure it out, I will. I have come too far to quit now. The pieces are beginning to fit. There is a pattern to the disappearances, the behaviour, and what is happening with her."
Ben stood up, clearly agitated. "You're risking your mind for someone who doesn't even want your help."
Adex replied, "She doesn't have to want it. I'm not chasing her approval. I'm doing this because if I don't, something worse will happen. I've seen it in her eyes—she's slipping. And whatever's got her hasn't finished yet."
Ben sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "So that's it? You're just going to keep burying yourself in this madness?"
Adex returned to the laptop. "I am close, Ben. Closer than ever. I don't care how ridiculous it appears from the outside. I won't back down."
The room grew silent, interrupted only by the faint hum of the laptop fan and distant traffic outside. Ben looked around at the apartment's disarray, the desperate order in Adex's madness, and decided he couldn't talk himself out of it.
"You're gonna burn yourself out," Ben muttered.
Adex didn't respond. He was already deep in another document, chasing the next clue.
"I was just passing by and thought I'd check in—see how you're holding up," Ben remarked politely, though his voice sounded hesitant. "Anyway, I should get going. "Good luck with your research."
Adex didn't look up or respond. His eyes remained centred on the laptop screen, and his fingers lightly tapped the keys.
Ben stayed for a moment before turning and walking to the door. It closed with a faint click behind him.
Adex let out a loud sigh as he left and then began his job in solitude
A file rested near Adex on the table, filled with research papers. As he reached for it, the file slid from his grasp and landed on the floor, spreading its contents in all directions. He went down to grab the pages, but stopped when his sight fell on a lone photograph buried amid the folded pages.
He carefully picked it up, a slight, amused smile spreading across his lips. His gaze remained fixated on the sight, as if caught in a recollection that kept him frozen.
After a long pause, he carefully placed the photograph on the table before returning to his laptop.
Jill and Adex were photographed sitting at the edge of the school field, each holding an ice cream cup. They smiled at each other, capturing a moment of pure bliss in time.