Vivian had tried to shake off the unease that clung to her ever since that terrifying night at Christopher’s house. Days had passed, but the memory refused to fade, lurking in the corners of her mind like a shadow.
Her intuition whispered that someone had been watching them, someone who had intruded on their most intimate moment. But who?
The question gnawed at her, unanswered, as she replayed the events over and over. It wasn’t imagination—she was certain of it. That morning, she found herself wandering through the hospital corridors, her thoughts miles away.
The clipboard in her hands felt heavier than usual, though she clutched it tightly against her chest, using it as a shield against her growing paranoia.
Her steps slowed as she came to a halt near the nurse’s station, her eyes
