Willow never considered herself someone who lived in fear. She walked home alone after late shifts, took morning runs through quiet streets, and never once believed the shadows she noticed at the corner of her vision were anything more than tricks of the light.

But that changed the day she started receiving messages.

At first, they were vague—cryptic phrases that could have come from anyone. “You looked beautiful today.” “That dress suits you.” “I like the way you smile when you’re thinking.” They could have been from a secret admirer, an overly bold stranger, or even a friend playing a prank. But then the tone shifted.

The messages became specific. They referenced the coffee mug she used that morning, the exact page of the book she was reading, the tiny tear in her jacket sleeve. The details were too precise, too intimate—things no random stranger could have noticed without being close by.

Fear began to creep in. Willow found herself glancing over her shoulder more often, locking her door twice at night, and scanning every crowd for a face she might recognize. She told herself she was being paranoid. After all, the city was full of people. Anyone could pass by her on the street and notice these things… right?

But deep down, she knew this wasn’t a coincidence.

The breaking point came one evening when she found a note slipped under her door. It wasn’t typed, it wasn’t printed—it was handwritten. And in that familiar, looping script, it read: “I’m closer than you think.”

Her blood ran cold.

This wasn’t just some distant stalker lurking in the shadows. Whoever it was had been inside her building, maybe even standing at her very door. The realization changed everything.

Willow began replaying the last few weeks in her mind—every encounter, every casual conversation, every friendly neighbor or colleague who might have had the chance to watch her without her knowing. Each memory twisted into suspicion. Who had she let close enough to learn these details?

The truth, when it came, was worse than she could have imagined.

The stalker wasn’t a stranger. They weren’t an anonymous presence hiding in the darkness. They were someone she knew. Someone she had spoken to countless times. Someone who had blended into her daily life so seamlessly that she never thought twice about their presence.

They had been watching her not from afar, but from a place she would never have suspected—right next to her.

Willow’s world tilted on its axis. Every smile, every shared laugh, every moment she thought was harmless now felt like part of a sinister game she hadn’t realized she was playing. She was living alongside the very person she feared, and that knowledge was more chilling than any shadow on the street.

Now, she must decide what to do. Stay quiet and pretend she doesn’t know, hoping they slip up? Or confront them and risk discovering just how far they’re willing to go?

Because if the stalker has already been this close without her noticing… what happens when they decide it’s time to step even closer?