Eva didn't sleep that night.
She tried. She lay in bed, cocooned in silence, forcing her mind to retreat into logic, into reason. The flickering lights could be faulty wiring. The whisper could have been her own breath, catching in her ears. The shadow in the mirror—a trick of exhaustion.
But Lucien's voice stayed with her.
By the time the first hints of dawn crept through her curtains, Eva gave up on sleep and sat at her desk instead, flipping through old case notes in an attempt to anchor herself in something real.
She specialized in criminal psychology—delusions, psychopathy, the fragile divide between sanity and the abyss. She had interviewed men who swore they saw demons lurking in their own reflections. Women who believed spirits whispered secrets through the walls.
She had always known how to separate fact from fiction. Until now.
Her phone vibrated.
The name on the screen made her stomach tighten: Dr. Nicholas Warren.
Her mentor.
Eva hesitated before answering. "Dr. Warren?"
"You sound like you haven't slept," he noted. His voice was deep, smooth—the voice of a man who had seen too much and survived it.
Eva exhaled. "It's been a long night."
"Anything you want to tell me about?"
She hesitated. Dr. Warren was the only person who had ever truly understood her fascination with the mind's hidden corridors. The only one who had ever warned her about staring too deeply into the dark.
She almost told him.
Almost.
Instead, she said, "Just a case I've been thinking about."
"You never could let things go," he said, a trace of amusement in his tone. But then, something in his voice sharpened. "Eva. Be careful what you let inside your head."
The warning sent a shiver through her.
She wanted to ask him what he meant. If he somehow knew. But before she could, a knock echoed from her front door.
Slow. Measured.
She lowered the phone, pulse stuttering.
She wasn't expecting anyone.
Eva stood, moving cautiously across the room. The air felt thick—like something was pressing in around her, waiting.
Another knock.
This time, a whisper slid through the door. "Eva."
She inhaled sharply.
She knew that voice.
Lucien.