PROLOGUE

Rain hammered down like a thousand tiny fists, drenching Lila as she sprinted through the narrow alleyways of downtown Dallas. Each step felt like a desperate gamble against gravity, her heart pounding like a war drum in her chest. Sirens wailed somewhere far off, but they felt like echoes from another world—one where she wasn’t running for her life. The concrete glistened under the streetlights, slick and treacherous; she stumbled, catching herself just before hitting the ground. No time for that. Not now.

"Come on, come on," she gasped, feeling the icy air sting her throat. It was a warning, her body screaming at her to stop, to breathe, to give in. But giving in wasn’t an option. She couldn’t look back. The shadow that had been stalking her all night loomed larger in her mind, a dark specter of the past she had tried so hard to outrun. Memories flashed—concert halls filled with applause, the delicate touch of strings beneath her fingers. Once upon a time, her life had been a symphony, each note a promise of greatness. Now, it was just noise, a cacophony of mistakes drumming in her head.

How did I get here? She wondered, breath hitching as panic clawed at her chest. The question echoed louder than the thud of her feet hitting the pavement. High school had been a turning point, sure—but who knew perfection could feel so damn heavy? Late nights blurred into mornings soaked in regret, friends who offered nothing but bad choices, parties that led her down a spiral she thought she could control. And then heroin—a seductive whisper in the dark, promising relief. She hadn’t fought it; she’d embraced it. Because what’s better than escaping reality when reality was a raging monster?

A sharp turn took her deeper into the alley, the walls closing in like prison bars. Her clothes clung to her skin, drenched and heavy, suffocating reminders of the life she once aspired to lead. She could hear her pulse in her ears, drowning out everything else—a metronome counting down to her last chance. If only she could find a way out, a way to shake him off her trail.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid!" she muttered, frustration bubbling over as she skidded around a corner. She felt like a rat in a maze, except this maze was designed to kill her. The dim light flickered above, casting shadows that danced menacingly along the brick walls. Each flicker seemed to mock her, reminding her how close she was to being caught.

Just keep moving, she urged herself, knowing she'd have to push through the exhaustion, the craving to curl into a ball and disappear. That wasn’t her anymore. Was it? The thrill of the chase mingled with the dread of what would happen if she stopped. She rounded another corner, nearly colliding with a dumpster that reeked of old garbage and despair. A grim reminder of where she'd come from, or maybe where she was heading.

"Shit!" she yelled, frustration spilling over. She could feel it—the weight of every poor decision pressing down on her, almost tangible in the damp air. Lila’s feet pounded against the slick pavement, each step a desperate prayer that she wouldn’t be caught. The alleyways twisted like a snake, narrow and dark, but she pushed through, adrenaline drowning out the regret that clung to her like the rain-soaked clothes on her back. She was running from more than just the man behind her; she was sprinting from every bad choice she’d ever made, every whispered judgment that echoed in her mind. The ghost of her former self, the violinist who could have conquered the world, mocked her with every frantic breath.

She rounded another corner, dodging a dumpster that stood sentinel, its stench a reminder of the decay that had seeped into her life. She could almost hear the notes of her once-beloved violin playing faintly in the background, but they were drowned out by the reality of sirens wailing in the distance. The music faded further away as she barreled forward, lungs burning with exertion.

But then it happened. The ground fell away beneath her feet as she skidded to a halt—a dead end loomed before her, high brick walls rising like prison bars. Panic shot through her veins like ice. “No, no, no!” she gasped, spinning around, searching for an escape that wasn’t there. Her chest heaved as she faced the wall, the very embodiment of her life: trapped, suffocated, and utterly lost.

That’s when she saw him. He emerged from the shadows, his silhouette cutting through the dim light like a predator stalking its prey. A knife gleamed in his hand, reflecting the flickering glow of a distant streetlamp. The metal looked hungry, ready to taste the flesh of someone who had already bled too much in life. Lila's pulse quickened, adrenaline surging anew, but this time it was mixed with despair.

"Well, well, look who we have here," he sneered, his voice smooth yet dripping with malice. Every word felt like acid on her skin. “Thought you could run forever?”

"Go to hell," Lila spat, her voice shaking despite her bravado. It came out harsher than she intended, a last-ditch effort to reclaim some sense of control. Maybe if she cursed enough, the reality of her situation would dissolve like smoke. But the truth weighed heavily on her shoulders, and she knew it wouldn't work. He was right there, closing the distance, every inch sending her deeper into panic.

"Don’t you get it?" he taunted, a smirk twisting across his lips. "You’re just prolonging the inevitable."

"Get away from me!" she screamed, voice raw and ragged. Lila’s heart thundered in her chest, a frantic drumbeat that drowned out everything else. She could feel the weight of his gaze like hot iron on her skin.

"You threw it all away," he sneered, the words rolling off his tongue with casual cruelty, each syllable a stab to her already frayed nerves. The knife glinted in the dim light, a sinister promise of pain.

"Please, I don’t know what you're talking about. Just—just leave me alone." Her voice trembled, the bravado evaporating as panic twisted her insides. What did he mean? Everything felt jumbled, memories slipping through her fingers like sand. She wasn’t some broken violin; she was just Lila—lost and desperate.

"Everything," he spat, stepping closer, invading her space with a predatory grace. His eyes were cold, calculating, like an executioner sizing up his next victim. “You had it all—a talent, a future, people who cared. And you wasted it.”

Wasted it. The words echoed in her mind, a cruel chorus that choked her. How did he even know? Did he understand what it meant to be swallowed whole by your own demons? The nights spent chasing high after high, the friends who turned to ghosts, the hollow echoes of applause now replaced by silence. She was nothing but a fading memory of who she could’ve been, a girl who once dreamed of stages and symphonies. But those dreams lay buried under layers of regret and addiction, and this man was here to remind her just how far she'd fallen.

"Stop!" she shouted, desperation clawing at her throat. But he didn’t stop. He didn’t care about her confusion or terror. In his mind, she was already judged, condemned long before they’dever crossed paths that night.

Then, without warning, he lunged.