PREVIEW
This was the very day when I was alone on my way back home it was 2.30 am already.
THE SILENCE FELT HEAVIER THAN IT SHOULD .
CHAPTER 1.
My name is Anie. I'm a novelist. I write about crimes so disturbing that people can't even imagine them happening in real life , the people liked the way the crimes were unfolding in my work . My identity stays hidden, but my stories are known for how brutally real they feel.
Life was peaceful.
Until that day.
It was supposed to be a normal evening . I was getting ready to leave with my colleagues as usual . When my manager stopped me "Can you complete the urgent revision of the novel before you go?"
I was furious. After surviving the entire day, he had the audacity to smile and give me more work. That smile lingered a second too long, like he was enjoying a joke only he understood — as if he already knew how the night would end. Something chaotic exploded inside my head. For a split second, my darker thoughts imagined tearing that smile apart — and strangely, those holy thoughts felt the purest in that moment. And there I was, standing in front of him, smiling like a complete fool.
That was the moment I made the worst decision of my life. I was sitting in my room peacefully, absorbed in my work.
Something shifted in the air — subtle, almost unnoticeable — and my heart skipped a beat before I even understood why. An intimidating aura from the window crept into the room, silently urging me to leave — but my phone was barely holding onto its last few percent of battery.
I felt someone's presence behind the window, and the worst part was that I was on the ground floor.
There was no one else in the building. Everyone had already gone home, probably sleeping peacefully, while I was stuck there finishing work. The corridor outside was silent — too silent — and the glass reflected my own face back at me, pale and overthinking.
Maybe it was just a shadow. Maybe it was my imagination, desperate to turn silence into a threat. Or maybe someone really was standing there, enjoying how still I had become.
A cold shiver slid down my spine, slow and deliberate, like a warning my body understood better than I did.
A few days ago, there had been a case — a girl attacked simply because she dared to stand up for herself. The memory resurfaced at the worst possible moment. My mind didn't need proof; it only needed possibility.
"Mom… I'm scared to death."
A shaky laugh escaped right after, which only made it worse. Great. Now I sounded dramatic even to myself. I wiped my tears, but they kept falling anyway. Between quiet sobs and uneven breaths, I found myself praying — if anything happens to me today, let the person responsible never walk free.
I stood up from my seat, forcing my legs to cooperate. I gathered whatever courage I could borrow from my trembling body and stepped out of the building.
Even after leaving, I saw him.
Or at least, I think I did.
A figure near the gate — still, almost patient. It could have been anyone. It could have been no one. But my mind had already decided it was something.
I had booked the Uber before stepping outside. My house wasn't far, but something inside me refused to let me walk home. The app showed the car arriving sooner than expected.
I got in quickly.
Even though I was technically safe now, my hands were trembling. I had escaped the building — but the possibility of him standing there, watching without moving, followed me into the car.
Even though I was technically safe inside the car, the silence felt strange.
I found myself observing the driver through the mirror, trying to decide if he looked normal enough. Between the rhythm of the road and the noise in my head, reality felt thinner than it should have — my thoughts slowly overtaking the world outside.
When I finally reached home and stepped out of the cab, I saw it.
A shadow near my house.
My throat went dry instantly. Not panic — just that slow, suffocating dryness that makes you swallow nothing.
"I am screwed," I muttered under my breath.
For a moment, I stood there arguing with myself. It could be anyone. A neighbor. A trick of light. Or maybe my mind was still chasing danger even when there wasn't any.
The shadow didn't move.
But it didn't disappear either.
I unlocked the door quickly and stepped inside, locking it behind me. I leaned against the door and exhaled slowly. Exhaustion crashed over me all at once. I fell onto the bed, telling myself it was over.
But it wasn't.
AT MIDNIGHT , SOMEONE KNOCKED ON MY DOOR