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CHAPTER—1
[Make sure to read ro prologue before starting this chapter. It's on my profile. Enjoy ☕]
Clara barely managed to get any sleep that night. Every creak of the apartment building, every distant car passing outside would jolt her awake and her mind would quickly dart back to the photographs and those cryptic messages.
When the sun finally cast its dim light across her walls, she felt an odd mixture of relief and dread.
“Never knew the sun was this beautiful” she sighed, her eyes heavy with the size of bags beneath them
With daylight, the shadows that had haunted her seemed less menacing, but the memory of the previous night lingered.
After a cold shower and a strong cup of coffee, she sat down with her phone, bracing herself for more messages, though none had arrived. The silence felt eerie. Normally, she would find some solace in her morning routine—breakfast, a few moments of mindfulness, and then a brisk walk to her office. Today, everything felt slightly out of place.
She finally decided to reach out to a colleague, Dr. Heller, who had been a mentor to her in her early days of practice. If anyone could offer clarity, it was him. She dialed his number, listening to the steady ring as she paced her living room.
“Clara, how are you? It’s been too long,” he greeted her warmly, his voice familiar and calming.
“Hi, Dr. Heller. I, uh, I’m not sure how to say this. And I know we haven’t spoken in a while… but, something unusual happened last night.”
“Sure, no problem. Go on…”
He listened as she recounted the anonymous messages, the photograph, and the creeping feeling that she was being watched. She left out the name Liam Foster for now, still unsure if it was him or if she was simply grasping for answers where there were none.
“This is certainly concerning,” Dr. Heller replied after a thoughtful pause. “In our line of work, attachments do happen. We’re often the last lifeline for people in severe distress, and sometimes, that can turn… obsessive.”
She nodded, even though he couldn’t see her, his words resonated with her own fears.
“Clara,” he continued gently, “I think it might be wise to involve someone. Even if it turns out to be nothing, I don’t think you should go through this alone. I know you’ve built a reputation for being strong, but that doesn’t mean you can’t ask for help.”
She appreciated his concern, but part of her resisted the idea of involving others. This was *her* responsibility. Her mind had always been her sanctuary, a place of reason and calm. The thought of anyone breaching that—even a friend—felt like surrender.
“I’ll consider it, Dr. Heller. Thank you.”
“Anytime. And remember, Clara, sometimes the strongest among us are the ones most reluctant to ask for help.”
After hanging up, Clara felt a slight sense of relief, but the unease quickly returned. She had clients waiting, lives depending on her steady guidance. Today, she had no choice but to put her own fears aside.
---
At her office, the usual rhythm of the day resumed, though each session was occasionally shadowed by her lingering apprehension. She forced herself to stay present, focusing intently on her patients, though her mind occasionally wandered back to the messages. After hours of intense sessions, she allowed herself a few minutes to gather her thoughts.
Her last patient, a young woman named Sofia, had spoken of her own fears of being watched. The irony wasn’t lost on Clara; she spent her days helping others manage their paranoia while grappling with her own.
The day passed without further incident, and Clara started to...
Clara barely managed to get any sleep that night. Every creak of the apartment building, every distant car passing outside would jolt her awake and her mind would quickly dart back to the photographs and those cryptic messages.
When the sun finally cast its dim light across her walls, she felt an odd mixture of relief and dread.
“Never knew the sun was this beautiful” she sighed, her eyes heavy with the size of bags beneath them
With daylight, the shadows that had haunted her seemed less menacing, but the memory of the previous night lingered.
After a cold shower and a strong cup of coffee, she sat down with her phone, bracing herself for more messages, though none had arrived. The silence felt eerie. Normally, she would find some solace in her morning routine—breakfast, a few moments of mindfulness, and then a brisk walk to her office. Today, everything felt slightly out of place.
She finally decided to reach out to a colleague, Dr. Heller, who had been a mentor to her in her early days of practice. If anyone could offer clarity, it was him. She dialed his number, listening to the steady ring as she paced her living room.
“Clara, how are you? It’s been too long,” he greeted her warmly, his voice familiar and calming.
“Hi, Dr. Heller. I, uh, I’m not sure how to say this. And I know we haven’t spoken in a while… but, something unusual happened last night.”
“Sure, no problem. Go on…”
He listened as she recounted the anonymous messages, the photograph, and the creeping feeling that she was being watched. She left out the name Liam Foster for now, still unsure if it was him or if she was simply grasping for answers where there were none.
“This is certainly concerning,” Dr. Heller replied after a thoughtful pause. “In our line of work, attachments do happen. We’re often the last lifeline for people in severe distress, and sometimes, that can turn… obsessive.”
She nodded, even though he couldn’t see her, his words resonated with her own fears.
“Clara,” he continued gently, “I think it might be wise to involve someone. Even if it turns out to be nothing, I don’t think you should go through this alone. I know you’ve built a reputation for being strong, but that doesn’t mean you can’t ask for help.”
She appreciated his concern, but part of her resisted the idea of involving others. This was *her* responsibility. Her mind had always been her sanctuary, a place of reason and calm. The thought of anyone breaching that—even a friend—felt like surrender.
“I’ll consider it, Dr. Heller. Thank you.”
“Anytime. And remember, Clara, sometimes the strongest among us are the ones most reluctant to ask for help.”
After hanging up, Clara felt a slight sense of relief, but the unease quickly returned. She had clients waiting, lives depending on her steady guidance. Today, she had no choice but to put her own fears aside.
---
At her office, the usual rhythm of the day resumed, though each session was occasionally shadowed by her lingering apprehension. She forced herself to stay present, focusing intently on her patients, though her mind occasionally wandered back to the messages. After hours of intense sessions, she allowed herself a few minutes to gather her thoughts.
Her last patient, a young woman named Sofia, had spoken of her own fears of being watched. The irony wasn’t lost on Clara; she spent her days helping others manage their paranoia while grappling with her own.
The day passed without further incident, and Clara started to...
