FOUR

Leora

After another grueling day at work, my feet dragged me back to my apartment. Work had been brutal this past week, with back-to-back consultations and the relentless buzzing of my phone with notifications that I was too spent to check. I even skipped gym today, wanting to rest instead of spending an hour punching my dread away. But all that seemed like a reprieve compared to the scene that greeted me as I unlocked my door and pushed it open.

Panic gripped me. The place was trashed. My eyes darted around the disarray—the books tossed from their shelves, some lying face down, their spines cracked.

For one paralyzing moment, I was back in a darker time, the fear so tangible it was almost a physical presence in the room. My mind raced to the worst conclusion—Adriano. Could he have found a way back from the grave to torment me? The thought was irrational, yet fear isn't always ruled by logic. My breath hitched, and I stood frozen by the door, afraid of what more I might discover if I moved.

My heart sank further when I saw the shattered portrait of my cat, Ada. "Seriously?" I muttered, my voice shaking a bit with anger.

Kneeling to pick up the pieces, the harsh reality of someone breaking into my private life hit hard. "Fucking hell." I grumbled, trying to mask the hurt with annoyance as I cleaned up the mess.

The living room was a disaster, but I needed to check the rest of the apartment. My footsteps were hesitant as I pushed open my bedroom door. Everything seemed untouched here. I breathed a slight sigh of relief, though the comfort was superficial. The spare room and bathroom were the same—undisturbed, which somehow made the living room's chaos feel even more random.

I returned to the living room, trying to put some order back into it.

I picked up a fallen book, trying to restore some order to the chaos, when my phone suddenly buzzed to life. It caught me off guard—an unknown number flashing across the screen. My heart skipped a beat as I swiped to answer, my stomach in knots.

"Hello?" My voice came out stronger than I felt.

Only silence answered back. My pulse hammered in my ears. Could it be him? "Zarek?" I whispered into the void, half-hoping he would reveal himself.

Instead, a heavy sigh echoed through the line, followed by the sharp click of the call ending. "Coward," I muttered under my breath, my initial fear quickly burning up into frustration. This had to be connected to that night, to him— t he night that sent my life spiraling out of control. Who else could it be, and why else would my apartment be turned upside down the moment things started getting weird?

Clutching my phone in my hand, I couldn't shake the feeling of eyes on me. My apartment no longer felt safe. I moved to the kitchen, my movements jittery. I grabbed a glass and filled it with water, my hands trembling slightly. Every sound seemed amplified, every shadow a hiding place.

My mind raced with possibilities—could it be Zarek? Why would he trash my place? Or was it someone else? Someone I pissed off at work, perhaps?

I slammed the water glass down harder than I meant to, the water spilling unceremoniously over the counter. I knew I had to tell someone about this, but what exactly? I rolled the idea around in my head, knowing too well how these stalking claims usually played out. "It's random," they'd dismiss, seeing nothing was stolen, just things tossed around. I muttered a curse under my breath, feeling the walls of my own home close in around me.

As night crept in, the isolation of the apartment grew heavier. I double-checked the locks on the doors and windows, my earlier defiance slowly dissolving into a gnawing anxiety. The locked door didn't stop them before. I truly wasn't safe.

The thought of sleep was laughable now. Instead, I settled onto the couch, a blanket pulled tight around me, waiting for the dawn or whatever might come first.

???

"I swear, Mom, I really am driving. Like, right now," I said as I gripped the steering wheel tighter. A few sleepless nights had passed since my place was turned upside down, and I couldn't handle the eerie quiet of my apartment any longer. So, decision made, I was en route to my parents' place in Milton for some much-needed peace.

"How's the car holding up? You know how Ally is with maintenance," my mom's voice crackled through the speaker, tinged with concern. Originally, I had considered the train, avoiding the hassle of traffic. But the idea of being so exposed, surrounded by strangers' prying eyes, made my skin crawl. Borrowing Ally's somewhat neglected car seemed the lesser of two evils.

"It's holding up, Mom. It moves, and right now, that's enough," I reassured her, eyes flicking to the GPS. "I'll be there in about forty-three minutes." Traffic was a nightmare today, a relentless stream of cars, and I couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. Again . A particular car had been trailing me since I left my apartment, its persistence gnawing at my nerves.

On a sudden impulse, driven more by a need to confirm my fears than actual navigation, I swerved off at an exit way before my intended one. Glancing in the rearview mirror, my stomach sank as I saw the car blatantly follow my lead.

I rounded the corner and there it was again—a few cars back, subtle but unmistakable. For a fleeting moment, I entertained the thought that maybe, just maybe, they were after Ally.

Wishful thinking, Leora. They're tailing you.

Pushing that uneasy thought aside, I steered back onto the highway, heading towards Milton. The mysterious car flickered in and out of view in my rearview mirror, keeping pace but never overtaking. It wasn't until I hit the quieter, tree-lined streets of the suburban neighborhood that the car finally vanished.

Shortly after, I pulled up to my parents' cozy little house in the heart of Milton. I scanned every shadow and corner as I got out of the car, half-expecting someone to leap out at any moment. My walk to the front door was a mix of casual strides and internal panic, my gut twisting with every step.

I didn't even pause to greet my mother when she opened the door, instead blurting out, "Hey, just need the bathroom!" as I dashed past her.

Once in the guest bathroom, I leaned against the door, trying to steady my breathing and calm the storm inside me.

After a few moments, I managed to pull myself together and strolled back into the living room as if nothing had happened, sinking into the couch next to my mom.

"Can I get a hug now?" she asked, her voice dry with mock irritation.

I let out a short laugh and wrapped her in a long, tight hug, still feeling the tremors of anxiety fading from my body. "Where's Dad?" I asked casually, letting my gaze wander around the room, still half-expecting trouble to follow me inside.

"He's in the backyard, covering the patio furniture. Can you believe we're expecting rain in March?" she said, but my mind wasn't ready to shift to mundane topics.

I simply nodded, a forced smile painting my face.

"There she is!" My dad announced his entrance, rather dramatically.

"Hey, Dad!" I sprang up to hug him, instantly feeling the comforting, familiar safety of being near both him and Mom.

"What do you want to eat?" Mom peered at me with that scrutinizing look only mothers have. "You look thinner. Have you been eating properly? Hitting the gym?"

"Let the girl breathe, honey," Dad chimed in, giving me a supportive pat on the back.

"How was Hawaii?" I asked.

"Oh it was wonderful! It's such a beautiful place. You should go there sometime. Perfect for couples." My mom's slight nudge towards me finding someone, didn't go unnoticed. But I wasn't really in a mood to address it. We talked a bit more about their trip until a comfortable silence enveloped us.

Eventually, we gathered in the dining room where I could finally enjoy a real meal, something I hadn't prioritized lately. The first bite of the brisket melted in my mouth.

God, I missed this.

Sitting there, feeling a bit more grounded, I realized there was a difficult piece of news I hadn't yet shared. Clearing my throat abruptly, I plunged in without any buildup. "Adriano is dead."

Their heads comically whipped up. The shock on their faces told me they hadn't expected to hear his name tonight—or any night, really. After nearly two years of silence on that chapter of my life, this news was a jolt.

Mom clutched Dad's arm, her fingers trembling slightly.

"How?" Dad's voice was tight, his nostrils flaring .

"Some other inmate killed him," I said with a shrug that felt heavier than I intended.

"Are you okay, Ora?" Mom's voice quivered, the worry evident in her eyes.

I met their concerned looks with a forced smile. Adriano's death, while significant, didn't drag me back into the abyss as it once would have. Sure, the shadows of his terror lingered, but now, my mind was occupied with more immediate concerns, like a fucking stalker breaking into my apartment.

Oh, and let's not forget my road companion.

"I'm absolutely fine. It's a relief, really." My attempt at cheer sounded hollow even to my ears. "We don't have to worry about bumping into him ever again."

Dad cleared his throat, his expression skeptical. "Should we set up a session with Dr. Montez? You could do a session—"

"I'm fine, Dad," I cut him off, perhaps too sharply. "Really, I think this is the closure I needed."

Mom nodded, though her eyes mirrored the storm of doubt and relief warring within her. Dad, however, continued to scrutinize me, searching my face for something.

I understood pretty quickly why he eyed me like that. His next words sent an alarm ringing through my body, "Ora, honey… did you—were you in any way involved?"

"Oliver!" Mom's hand landed a sharp smack on his thigh, a clear rebuke.

"I'm just asking! That man was the devil. He nearly killed our daughter," Dad countered.

"Dad, no, I had nothing to do with it. Sure, I've fantasized about it, but you know me—I wouldn't actually do something like that." I raised my hands in a gesture of innocence.

"Good," he sighed and gave me a small smile. "But we would've sided with you, anyway."

It was bizarre, hearing my parents indirectly condone murder, even if it was just theoretical support.

"I wouldn't expect anything else." I smiled back.

Dinner wrapped up quicker than usual, and it was time for me to head back. I'd been picking up extra shifts at work, using the long hours as an excuse to stay away from my apartment. Ever since that break-in, I'd been on edge—half expecting to come home to another intrusion or worse, someone lurking in the shadows waiting for me.

During the drive back home, my mind replayed every detail of my visit with my parents, distracting me from the nagging anxiety. It wasn't until the familiar headlights appeared in my rearview mirror that I snapped back to reality. The same car that had followed me in the morning was tailing me again. Oddly enough, this time it didn't stir panic within me.

As I parked near my building, the car vanished as if it had never been there. I'd caught brief glimpses of the driver a few times—close enough to make out features that were unsettlingly familiar. Was it Zarek? Why would he be following me so openly? Shaking my head, I tried to brush off the creeping suspicion as I fumbled with my keys.

Stepping into my apartment, I half-expected chaos—more signs of intrusion. But what greeted me was utter, dreadful silence.