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“Good,” Meher says. “And Simran? Keep me updated, okay? I’m worried about you.”

“I will,” I promise. “Thank you, Meher. I... I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

We say our goodbyes, and I hang up, sliding down to sit on the floor, my back still against the door. For a moment, I just breathe, trying to process everything that’s happened.

The silence of my apartment feels oppressive now, every shadow a potential threat. I force myself to stand, to move. I need to call the police, just like Meher said. But as I reach for my phone again, a thought stops me cold.

What if he followed me here? What if he knows where I live?

The fear that had begun to subside comes rushing back. I’m not safe. Not really. Not as long as he’s out there, watching, waiting.

I quickly dash into my bedroom to check if everything is okay. Leila, my cat, greets me with a soft meow. The familiar surroundings should be comforting, but I can’t shake the feeling of dread that’s settled over me.

Leila follows me out in the living room where I double-check all the locks and draw the curtains tightly. As I sink onto my couch, she jumps up and curls onto my lap.

I try to make sense of what’s happening. Am I really in danger?

I consider calling the police, but what would I tell them? That I’m being stalked by a figure in a Joker mask? That I’m receiving cryptic, mysterious messages? They’d think I was crazy and was imagining things as I had no substantial proof to show them.

As the fear begins to fade off, exhaustion takes its place. But I know sleep won’t come easy tonight. Not with the image of that mask haunting my thoughts and those eerie words echoing in my mind.

“My eyes will always be on you.”

I hug Leila closer, seeking comfort in her warm presence. Whatever’s happening, whatever danger I might be in, I know one thing for certain: I can’t face this alone. I need help. I need protection.

As my eyes drift close, one name keeps floating through my mind. The one person I know who could handle this, who would believe me, who would protect me no matter what.

Vishnu.

****************

A few hours later

I jolt awake, my heart racing as memories of last night come flooding back into my mind. Feeling disoriented, I rush to my bedroom, relief washing over me as I find everything just as I left it. Leila, my faithful companion, greets me with a soft meow from her spot on the bed. She was on the couch with me last night, and must have snuck off here, just like she did every morning.

“Sim?” Claire’s voice makes me jump. I turn around to see her concerned face peering at me from the doorway. “What’s wrong? You look a bit disturbed. When did you come home last night?”

I close the bedroom door and follow Claire into the living room, wrapping her in a tight hug. Claire, my sixty-year-old housekeeper, has been my rock since I moved to New York eighteen months ago. She’s seen me through every high and low, both physical and emotional. She’s more than just an employee; she’s the motherly figure I’ve needed in this bustling city.

“Sim? You’re scaring me. What happened, dear?” Claire asks again, her voice laced with worry.

I pull away, taking a deep breath before recounting the terrifying events of last night. I tell her about the cryptic messages, the feeling of being followed for the past two weeks, and the masked figure at the store. As I speak, I can see the worry deepening in Claire’s eyes.

“Oh, Sim,” she says, squeezing my hand. “I can’t believe you haven’t called the police still. You need to call them right away. That way you can ensure you’re safe.”

I nod, agreeing with her. The thought of involving the authorities makes it all feel more real, but I know it’s important now.

Claire continues, “And I think you should take a break today if there’s nothing urgent at the boutique. Until you sort this out with the police, it’s best not to go out alone.”

I mentally run through my schedule, figuring out which client visits and tasks I can reschedule.

“You’re right,” I say. “I’ll make some calls later.”

“I’m so grateful for you, Claire,” I add, feeling a rush of emotion. “For looking after me and this house when I’m at work. I couldn’t do any of this without you.”

Claire’s eyes soften, and she smiles warmly. “Oh, honey. This may have started as just a job, but now... you’re like a daughter to me.” She pats my cheek affectionately. “Now, you go freshen up and make that call to the police while I brew some coffee and whip up a hot breakfast for you.”

I’m about to reach for my phone when the intercom buzzes, signalling someone at the door. My heart leaps into my throat, fear gripping me once again. Claire checks the monitor and turns to me, her expression puzzled.