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I get home at a reasonable hour, and I’m quite proud of myself for not drinking too much either. I’ve felt somewhat safer since I’ve had Toby Sheridan’s photo, and even safer now I know his name. He’s no longer the anonymous figure lurking in the shadows. He’s a man with a name, a job, a life. He’s now human, and that makes him feel less threatening somehow. Besides which, I’ve heard nothing from him since seeing him that day at the police station. But even if he should decide to start up again, with the locks on my doors changed I now feel better guarded against him.
There’s one thing I’ve been itching to do ever since I found out Toby Sheridan’s name. All I’ve wanted to do is find out more about him, try to discover what makes a person like this tick. I boot up my MacBook and head t
