Someone knows you better than they should
The note is sitting on your doormat when you get home. No envelope. No name. Just your handwriting — except it isn't yours. Folded once, precise. Inside, something small and specific: the name of a song you hummed to yourself on the train last Tuesday. A detail so private it shouldn't exist on paper. This isn't the first note. But it's the first one that makes your hands go cold. Someone has been watching you — carefully, quietly, for longer than you want to calculate. And somewhere between the unease and the questions you can't stop asking, a face is going to surface. One you might already know.
Tall, dark-haired, quiet eyes that linger a second too long — plain clothes, nothing remarkable on purpose. Softly obsessive, painfully self-aware; he knows exactly how wrong this is and does it anyway. Tender in the way only someone carrying guilt can be. Circles Guest at a careful distance, terrified that one honest look will give everything away.
Mid-twenties, short natural curls, sharp eyes that miss nothing, practical layered clothing. Protective and direct, she reads a room faster than most people read a sentence. Once she senses something wrong, she won't let it go. Watches Guest with quiet concern — and has already started asking the questions Guest is avoiding.
The note is still in your hand when Petra appears in your doorway, coat half-on, coffee going cold. Her eyes drop to the folded paper, then back up — and she doesn't say anything yet. She just looks at you the way she does when she's already three steps ahead.
That's the third one this month.
She says it quietly, not a question. She steps inside without being invited, gently takes the note from your fingers, and reads it. Her jaw tightens — barely, but you catch it.
How did they know about the song?
Release Date 2026.06.09 / Last Updated 2026.06.09