Elliot visited for dinner the following week.
He’s doing better and has returned to Columbia. The therapy was helping him process the library attack.
"I’ve decided to study criminal psychology," he announced over Chinese food.
"Really?" I was surprised. "Why?"
"To understand people like Diane and to prevent future threats. It’s a logical application of my traumatic experience."
Only Elliot would phrase it that way.
"I’m proud of you," I tell him.
"Thank you. The field is statistically underfunded but intellectually stimulating." He pauses. "Also, my therapist said converting trauma into purpose is ’healthy coping.’ So I’m coping healthily."
Tony hides his smile. "Good. The world needs more criminal psychologists."
"Agreed. Especially since you two keep encountering criminals."
We all laugh even though it’s not really funny.
Susan hosts a dinner party the following Saturday.
Small gathering. Tony, , Bella, David (her boyfriend), Susan, and Thomas.
"You two look happy," Susan observes. "Actually happy. Not just surviving."
"We’re getting there," I say. "Day by day."
"That’s all anyone can do."
Bella and David were being adorable across the table.
He’s explaining code debugging as if it were poetry, and she’s genuinely chard.
"He’s perfect," Bella mouths to .
I leaned over to Tony. "Think we’ll get there? Normal relationship milestones without death threats?"
"Maybe... eventually." He smiles. "In like twenty years."
We’re laughing, healing, and finding normal.
For the first ti in two years, life felt almost peaceful.
Almost.
The warning signs started small.
Things moved in our apartnt. They were subtle and easy to dismiss.
"Tony, did you move my laptop?"
"No. Why?"
"It was on my desk, and now it’s on the couch."
"Maybe you moved it and forgot?"
"Maybe."
But it kept on happening. The coffee mug in a different spot, a book opened to a different page, papers being rearranged.
"Am I going crazy?" I asked Tony one night. "Is this PTSD paranoia?"
He took it seriously and looked at . "Or soone’s been in our apartnt."
We called Luca for a security sweep from top to bottom.
They found nothing. No bugs, no caras, and no signs of forced entry.
"Your security system shows no breaches," Luca reports. "No unauthorized entry. Nothing."
But I know soone was here.
"They wanted to know," I tell Tony. "They wanted to feel unsafe."
"Then we move to a new apartnt with better security."
"We’re running again."
"No. It’s a strategic relocation which is different."
I almost smiled at that. "If you say so."
While packing for the move, I found the engagent ring.
The promise ring, the one Tony gave during the board vote. The one I’ve worn ever since.
"We’re engaged," I said. "But we haven’t talked about actually getting married."
Tony stops packing and turns to .
"Do you want to get married?"
"I don’t know," I answered honestly. "Part of wants normal - a wedding, future, kids eventually, but another part thinks planning a future invites disaster."
"We can’t live like that... always waiting for the next threat."
"Then what do we do?"
"We live. We plan, we hope, and if disaster cos, we face it. Together." He crossed to and took my hands. "I want to marry you, Katherine. I want you to be my wife, and I want to build a life with you. Kids. Boring Tuesdays. I never wanted those before, but I do now. All of it, ever since falling in love with you."
"When did you beco an optimist?"
"Since I almost lost you to San Francisco."
I kissed him long, deep, and promising.
"Okay."
"Okay?"
"Let’s get married. Not yet, but soon. When things are calr, and The Shadow is dealt with. Then we can actually enjoy it."
"Deal."
Moving day arrives.
We moved into the new penthouse. It’s the top floor and state-of-the-art security. It’s a fresh start.
We’re unpacking when I open a box I don’t recognize.
"Tony, did you pack this?"
"Pack what?"
I lifted the lid and poured the contents out.
It was a bunch of photos, about hundreds of them, spilled out across the floor.
Of us.
In our apartnt, in our bedroom - sleeping, talking, cooking, fighting, and making love.
All were photographed without our knowledge.
Tony was beside , staring in horror.
I found a handwritten note attached to one photo.
I’ve been closer than you think. Watching, waiting, and learning everything about you. Your routines, your vulnerabilities, your love, and soon, I’ll take it all. You can’t protect what you can’t see, you can’t fight what you don’t know. Sleep well, Katherine, while you still can. -The Shadow
My hands were shaking.
"Soone was in our bedroom," I whisper. "While we slept. While we-"
Tony’s face was pale, furious, and violated.
"We’re not safe anywhere."
"No. We’re not."
Another photo falls from the box.
It was in Dr. Cole’s office from last week in one of the private therapy sessions.
Soone was in the waiting room or outside, watching and photographing.
Even therapy isn’t safe anymore.
Nothing was safe.
The Shadow is everywhere.
"What do we do?" I asked.
I see Tony’s jaw set, the dangerous look I knew so well.
"We find them, before they find us."
But how do you fight a shadow?
How do you stop an enemy who’s already inside your life?
Who’s watched you sleep, watched you make love, and watched you break down in therapy?
This person who knows everything about you, and you know nothing about them.
I was staring at the photos spread across our new apartnt floor.
They were intimate, private, and vulnerable monts.
All captured, and I felt violated.
The Shadow wasn’t just threatening us.
They’re deconstructing us, learning us, and preparing.
And we have no idea who they are, when they’ll strike, or if we’ll survive when they do.
Tony pulls close. "We’ll figure this out. Together."
"Together."
But I’m terrified.
Because this ti, the enemy isn’t outside.
They’re inside.
Inside our lives, our ho, and our most private monts.
And there’s nowhere left to hide.
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