THE DISTURBANCE
Someone Has Been Watching
The envelope is waiting inside your locked room. No stamp. No address. Only your name, written in a hand that looks almost like your own.
You would have noticed it yesterday. You are certain of that. Less certain is the mirror above the desk: it reflects the door, the empty chair, and a pale rectangle where your reflection ought to be.
Then the clock stops. Not gradually. Its pendulum hangs at an angle, as though someone has caught it between two fingers.
Beneath the envelope, three words have been pressed into the dust: YOU NOTICED FIRST.
Something has been studying this room. Tonight, it seems, it expects you to study it back.
What draws your attention?
