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“A man was outside my window,” I say shortly.

“O-okay,” he says, drawing out the O. “Has this happened before?”

I tell him that I’ve made several police reports that came up missing, but that this man has been coming around and breaking into my house for the past couple of months. After telling him of the previous experiences, he pulls out his pad and starts writing out the report.

“You said your name was Adeline Reilly, correct?”

“Yes.”

He pauses from writing and looks at me as if he’s seeing a different person.

“Aren’t you the one that had Archibald Talaverra go missing off your porc

h?” he asks, looking me up and down, pausing on my chest for a second too long, as if my tits are going to give him the answer.

“Yes,” I bite out, growing impatient.

He hums in response and goes back to writing his report.

“You think it was the same guy?”

“It’d be pretty fucked if it wasn’t,” I mutter. When the cop just side-eyes me, I sigh. “Yes, I do.”

He stops writing after that and asks me a few more customary questions. Do you have a description, do you know who he might be, and so on. I give him all the information I have, except what’s most important.

I don’t tell him about the text messages. I don’t know why, but they feel… private. Which is fucking stupid. Makes no sense, but I can’t bring myself to say anything. The police officer leaves with absolutely no helpful information. But he still leaves with a police report, and that’s what’s important.

It’s not until after I take a hot shower and settle into my bed that I read his message.

UNKNOWN: The more you disobey me, the harder your punishment.

“I’m going to find this little dick prick,” Daya declares angrily, practically slamming the keys through her laptop as she types god knows what. I just finished telling her the details of last night.

I take a sip of my drink. It’s not enough, so I take another. And then end up chugging the whole thing.

We’re both doing our respective work, but she didn’t want to leave me alone in the house now that my shadow is starting to interact more.

“Dick and prick are the same thing,” I say. She looks up, her face reflecting my exact thoughts since last night. What is wrong with you?

I shrug a shoulder. “I’m just saying. You just called him a little dick dick.”

She rolls her eyes, ignores me, and starts typing on her laptop again. Probably hacking into something. Though I can’t imagine what she could possibly be hacking into. Better not be my phone. I have nudes on there.

My face pales. Oh, god, what if he hacks into it and finds them? I scramble to pick up my phone, delete every single racy picture, and then delete them a second time from the Trash folder.

Some of my anxiety eases, but not all of it. He could’ve already hacked into it for all I know.

I’m going to be obsessing over this for the rest of my life now.

Noticing my internal crisis, Daya focuses on me, her brow pinched with concern. “You okay, girl?”

I clear my throat. “How likely is it that he can hack into my phone and find my nudes?” Her lip twitches and I’m two seconds away from smacking it off her face.

“Baby girl, that man has probably watched you get naked in your room a thousand times now.”

My eyes widen further, having not considered that yet, either.

“Oh my God.”

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