༻ 5 ༺

The morning sun was still low when Felicity pulled up in front of the airport. Her father sat beside her, drumming his fingers lightly on the armrest, eyes scanning the terminal ahead.

“You sure you’re going to be okay while I’m gone?” he asked, turning to face her.

Felicity gave him a reassuring smile. “Of course. I’ve got Brody around if anything comes up. And I’ll call if I need anything.”

He studied her for a moment, as if searching her face for anything unspoken. “You’d tell me if something was wrong, right?”

“Dad,” she said gently, “I promise. Everything’s fine.”

Still, he didn’t look convinced. “Alright. I just worry about you. That house can feel big when you're alone.”

She reached out and gave his hand a squeeze. “I’ll be okay.”

A few minutes later, she walked with him as far as she could, hugging him tightly at the gate. He kissed her forehead, and she wished him a safe journey, watching as he disappeared through security. It always tugged at something in her chest—watching him go—but this time it felt heavier somehow. She shook it off.

On the way back, she stopped at the grocery store to pick up a few essentials—milk, bread, fruit. She took her time, grateful for the ordinary distraction. But as she walked the aisles, a faint sensation crept over her. That crawling feeling at the back of her neck, the kind that made her skin tighten and her steps unconsciously quicken. She glanced around casually, trying not to appear alarmed.

Nothing. Just people shopping, moving through their routines.

Still, the sensation didn’t leave her.

She hurried to the checkout, paid, and walked briskly to the parking lot. The morning had grown warmer, but a chill passed through her as she approached her car. Something felt… off.

Then she saw it.

Tucked neatly under the windshield wiper was a folded piece of paper.

Her heart skipped a beat. She glanced around the lot—eyes scanning nearby cars, figures, faces. No one was watching her that she could see, but the hairs on her arms stood on end.

With trembling fingers, she unfolded the note.

"You're so beautiful. I love the way you walk, the way you smile. We’re meant to be together. I can’t wait for the day you realize that. Soon. Very soon."

Her stomach dropped.

The handwriting was unfamiliar—slanted, messy, like it had been written in haste. No name. No number. Just obsession in ink.

She looked around again, more frantically now, heart thudding hard in her chest. Cars. A woman loading groceries. A man on his phone. A kid riding in a shopping cart. Normal scenes… but any one of them could be the watcher.

She shoved the note into her purse, fumbled for her keys, and jumped into the driver’s seat. Locking the doors immediately, she sat for a second gripping the steering wheel, trying to steady her breathing.

Her pulse was racing.

Who was doing this? Was it the same man from the other day? Was he watching her now?

She didn't wait to find out.

Throwing the car into reverse, she peeled out of the parking lot, eyes darting to the rearview mirror every few seconds.

She needed to get home.

And she needed to tell Brody.

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