Sharon’s hand trembled as she stared at the live photo on her phone. The shot was too precise, too calculated. Whoever was sending these messages wasn’t just playing games. They wanted her to feel trapped.
Her thoughts raced. Was it Jacob? Russell? Someone she hadn’t even considered yet? She shoved the phone into her bag and hurried to her car, her heels clicking sharply against the pavement in the otherwise silent parking lot.
By the time she reached her car, her nerves were frayed. She fumbled with her keys, dropping them twice before finally unlocking the door. Sliding into the driver’s seat, she locked the doors and took a deep breath.
"Pull it together," she whispered to herself.
But the feeling of eyes on her didn’t fade.
By the time Sharon reached her apartment, exhaustion had
