The locksmith arrived early the next morning. Emma watched nervously as he worked on installing a deadbolt and reinforcing her apartment door. She couldn't shake the feeling of unease, her thoughts still replaying the sound of Ethan's voice through the door last night.
When the locksmith finished, Emma thanked him and locked the door the moment he left.
Her apartment felt more like a cage than a refuge now, the once-cozy space now tainted by fear.
"Time to take control," she whispered to herself.
She spent the next few hours setting up the security cameras she'd ordered overnight. One for the hallway outside her door, another for her living room window overlooking the street. Each click of the installation process brought her a small measure of comfort.
But as she worked, the nagging thought remained: this wasn't enough.
---
Ethan sat in his darkened apartment, staring at his corkboard. Last night had been a mistake—he knew that now. Showing up unannounced had only pushed Emma further away.
He ran his fingers over the edges of one of her photos, the image slightly crinkled from where he'd touched it too many times.
"She doesn't understand yet," he murmured. "She doesn't know what's out there, what could happen to her."
His eyes flicked to his laptop. He'd been researching her for weeks now—her routines, her habits, even her distant family connections.
It wasn't enough to just watch anymore. He needed to act.
---
That afternoon, Emma decided she couldn't stay locked up in her apartment all day. The thought of running into Ethan made her stomach turn, but she refused to let him control her life.
She called Lisa, who immediately agreed to meet her at the park.
"Safety in numbers," Lisa had said, her tone light but her meaning clear.
When Emma arrived, she found Lisa waiting on a bench under a large oak tree. The sight of her friend brought a sense of relief, and Emma quickened her pace.
"Hey," Lisa said, standing to give Emma a quick hug. "How are you holding up?"
Emma sank onto the bench beside her, sighing. "Better, I guess. I had new locks installed and set up cameras."
"That's a good start," Lisa said. "And the police? Any updates?"
"They're working on a restraining order, but it's not in place yet," Emma said, her voice tinged with frustration. "I feel like I'm just waiting for him to make another move."
Lisa frowned. "You shouldn't have to live like this, Emma. Maybe you should consider taking some time away—go somewhere he can't find you."
Emma shook her head. "I've thought about it, but I don't want to run. This is my life, my home. Why should I let him take that from me?"
Lisa nodded, though her expression remained troubled.
As they talked, Emma felt a sense of normalcy returning. For a brief moment, she let herself believe she could move past this.
But from a distance, Ethan watched. He leaned against a tree, his face partially obscured by the brim of a baseball cap. Seeing Emma with another person ignited a surge of jealousy he couldn't contain.
Who was this woman? What was she telling Emma? Was she the reason Emma was pulling away?
Ethan clenched his fists, forcing himself to stay calm. He needed to be careful, to avoid drawing attention. But as he watched Emma laugh at something the woman said, he felt an unsettling thought creep into his mind.
Maybe Emma needed to lose the people keeping her from him.
---
That night, Emma sat at her kitchen table, reviewing the footage from her new security cameras. She fast-forwarded through hours of footage, her eyes scanning for anything unusual.
When she reached the footage from earlier in the day, her heart stopped.
A man in a baseball cap stood at the far end of the hallway outside her apartment. He lingered for several minutes, occasionally glancing toward her door.
Even though the image was grainy, she recognized the posture, the shape of his frame.
It was Ethan.
Emma's hands shook as she paused the video and took a photo of the screen. She immediately forwarded it to Officer Ramirez, along with a message:
He was outside my door today. What should I do?
Her phone buzzed minutes later with a reply:
Stay inside. We're sending someone to patrol the area. If he shows up again, call 911 immediately.
Emma locked her phone and stared at the darkened window. She couldn't help but feel like Ethan was still out there, watching, waiting.
And she was right.
Ethan sat in his car a block away, his eyes fixed on the faint glow of her apartment window. He smiled to himself, convinced he was doing the right thing.
"Soon," he whispered. "You'll see, Emma. You'll see I'm the only one who truly cares."