Victor catapulted from the bed to Enora's side in a flash, body shielding hers in a defensive stance. A quick observation of the room produced no threats, and he turned back to attend to her. Excessive short breaths and shaking hands seized her body, keeping her gaze unfocused and erratic. "Enora! Hey, look at me. You're ok." It took a moment for her to register. Like a switch, her body reacted and came back into the present. The grip she had reflexively put on his arms relaxed, and her breathing slowed, but her heart still pounded to the beat of a drum's crescendo. "I'm sorry, I..." she began, unable to finish the sentence. The adrenaline from her dream coursed through her veins, setting her senses on overload. Looking at Victor, she rubbed at the part of her neck he had bitten and felt the breaking of her skin. She saw him again with flushed skin and open mouth; how his voice had lowered an octave. "Are you listening?" Victor asked, interrupting her thoughts. "Huh? What did yo

THE NEXT DAY The laundry basket hit the floor with a thud. Enora exhaled heavily, bending over the basket in defeat. The journey from her apartment to the elevator and then the laundry room, had been routine for years, and yet somehow, it refused to get easier. "I may have to invest in one of those foldable carts with the wheels. The old people are onto something." The phone rang as she dragged the basket into her room. It was Victor. "Hello?" "Enora, I have news. Where's Gil?" "Outside because the guys are changing shifts." "Good. I'll be there in ten." "Vic wait–" The phone hung up before she could get out another word. Naturally, she began to worry; it had to be something urgent if he was coming to tell her in person. Or maybe speaking over the phone was the problem–too big a risk. Victor was late. It was expected, as he usually was, but she was still irritated. The polish on one of her nails had chipped onto her lap from her chewing on it, and her leg bounced incessantly

BACK AT ENORA'S APARTMENT Victor looked at his phone, the open text conversation between him and Enora on the screen. The text line blinked patiently as he wrote and erased in the bar over and over again. What was he supposed to say to her? They didn't find the guy, so stay away from the windows? That he feels like an idiot for letting Bianchi get the jump on him again? That sending her away from him was the last thing he wanted to do because it's practically killing him being apart. Nah. Those wouldn't bode over well. Gil entered the apartment with a tablet in hand, "We found how the envelope got in." Victor straightened up in the armchair, "Let me see it." "The men were right that only residents came in and out of the building, but that was how it got in. Her elderly neighbor from down the hall taped it to the door. She'd explained that a man asked her to leave it as a surprise," "Ah geez." "Yeah. We had to lie and tell her it wasn't anything bad, but rather that it was sus

BACK AT ENORA'S APARTMENT More than a week had passed, and Enora hadn't heard from Victor. That morning Wilson had informed her the apartment was safe enough to return to, and it instantly brought her mood up. Enora entered her place with her arms spread wide, soaking in all that she missed from being away. At a run, she dramatically dove onto her bed with a light thud. "Oh, how I've missed you." "A fancy hotel not comfortable enough for you?" Wilson asked, knocking lightly on her door. "I can't help it. It always feels good to be back in your own bed." He laughed, "I'm just messing with you. I get it completely. Nothing can compare to what you're used to." She smiled in response, "Exactly." "Anyway, I'm checking every room and then I'll be out of your hair." She flopped onto her back and texted Victor again, asking when they'd be able to speak. She was surprised he hadn't been there to inspect everything himself, including her. Of course, she couldn't blame him if he was tr

AT THE SUBWAY TRAIN STATION The platform was partially crowded when Enora entered through the turnstile, cautiously looking through people to locate the man with the camera. When she spotted him towards the end of the platform, she quickly buttoned up her jacket and shoved her hair into a hat she had in her purse. Just in case he was to see her, he wouldn't recognize her right away. Enora's phone buzzed in her pocket, making her jump as she saw it was Gil. Her hands tapped decline hurriedly–he was probably on his way there. Thankfully the train pulled up thirty seconds later and gravitated the crowd forward, giving her the opportunity to slip into the same train car as the man. He had just finished a text when he sat down and fiddled with his camera, appearing to be scrolling through the gallery. Enora moved slowly, but as naturally as possible to avoid attracting attention. Fortunately, the shifting of people at the next stop helped her reach him quickly. Placing her phone on sile