EpisodeTWO: Nora'sJob
1228 Words
Nora woke up before the alarm.
She did not know why at first. The room was quiet. Too quiet. The kind of quiet that pressed against her ears and made her heart beat louder than it should. She lay still on the narrow bed, staring at the ceiling, counting her breaths the way she had taught herself to do during bad nights.
One.
Two.
Three.
The house did not feel asleep.
That was the strange thing.
It was early morning, just before dawn. The hour when the world usually felt soft and harmless. But the air inside the room felt tight, as if the walls were holding something back.
Nora sat up slowly.
The room was simple. White walls. A small desk. A single window facing the back garden. No pictures. No personal items. It looked less like a bedroom and more like a place someone stayed temporarily. Like a room designed for people who were not meant to leave a trace.
Her phone was on the desk where she had left it.
She reached for it.
No signal.
That had been the same the night before. Ethan Cross had explained it calmly, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.
“Poor reception,” he had said. “The house blocks it.”
Nora had nodded then, too tired to question him.
Now, standing barefoot on the cold floor, the explanation felt thin.
She checked the window.
It opened only a few inches before stopping. Not locked. Limited.
Her chest tightened.
She reminded herself that she had chosen this job. The pay was good. The rules were clear. Live in. Keep quiet. Do not bring visitors. Do not ask questions.
She had told herself she wanted to disappear.
So why did it feel like someone had taken that decision away from her?
A soft sound reached her ears.
Footsteps.
Nora froze.
They were slow. Controlled. Not the careless steps of someone wandering around their own home. They moved with purpose, stopping, starting again, like someone checking rooms.
She stayed where she was, listening.
The footsteps stopped outside her door.
Her breath caught.
There was no knock.
Just a pause.
Then the steps moved on.
Nora released the breath she had been holding and pressed a hand to her chest. Her heart was racing now, her pulse loud in her ears. She told herself she was being paranoid. New place. New job. New rules.
Fear always found space in the unfamiliar.
She dressed quickly and left the room.
The hallway was long and narrow, painted in soft gray tones. The floor did not creak under her feet. The house was built to keep secrets. Thick walls. Soundproofed doors. Everything designed for privacy.
Or isolation.
She followed the smell of coffee into the kitchen.
Ethan Cross stood at the counter, already dressed in a dark shirt and black trousers. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing strong forearms marked with faint scars she had not noticed before. He moved like someone used to being alert even in safe spaces.
He looked up as she entered.
“You’re awake early,” he said.
“So are you,” Nora replied.
His mouth curved slightly, but the smile did not reach his eyes. “I don’t sleep much.”
She believed him.
He handed her a mug without asking how she took her coffee. Black. No sugar. It was exactly how she drank it.
Her fingers tightened around the mug.
“You remembered,” she said carefully.
“I pay attention,” Ethan replied.
That answer sat between them, heavy with meaning.
They stood in silence for a moment. Nora took a sip, watching him over the rim of the mug. He leaned against the counter, arms crossed, gaze steady. He did not look like a man who was nervous about having a stranger in his house.
He looked like a man who had planned for her arrival.
“Today will be quiet,” he said finally. “You’ll stay inside. Get familiar with the house. There are areas you don’t need to access.”
Nora lowered the mug. “Which areas?”
“The basement. My office. The west wing.”
“That’s a lot of the house,” she said.
“Yes.”
His tone made it clear the conversation was over.
She hesitated, then asked the question that had been sitting on her tongue since the night before. “What exactly do you do, Ethan?”
He studied her for a long moment.
“I fix problems,” he said.
“What kind of problems?”
“The kind that don’t go to the police.”
The air shifted.
Nora felt it, that subtle change when a line was crossed. When the truth brushed too close to the surface.
She forced a small smile. “That sounds… vague.”
“It needs to be.”
She nodded, even though unease curled in her stomach.
After breakfast, Ethan showed her the areas she was allowed to clean and organize. Living room. Guest rooms. Kitchen. Laundry. Nothing personal. Nothing private.
But as Nora moved through the house, she noticed things.
Security cameras tucked into corners, almost invisible. Doors with fingerprint locks. A control panel near the stairs that monitored the entire property.
This was not a normal home.
This was a controlled space.
At noon, her phone vibrated.
She stopped cold.
It had not done that since she arrived.
She pulled it out slowly.
One message. Unknown number.
You shouldn’t be here.
Her fingers went numb.
Another message appeared before she could react.
He is watching you.
Nora’s heart slammed against her ribs. She turned in a slow circle, scanning the room. The cameras stared back at her silently.
She deleted the messages instantly, her hands shaking.
Ethan appeared in the doorway.
“You look pale,” he said.
She swallowed. “Just tired.”
His gaze flicked briefly to her phone, then back to her face. For a split second, something unreadable passed through his eyes. Recognition. Or confirmation.
“Rest,” he said. “I’ll handle the rest today.”
She did not argue.
In her room, Nora locked the door and sat on the bed, pulling her knees to her chest. Her thoughts raced.
Who had messaged her?
How did they have signal?
And why did they sound certain she was in danger?
That night, she dreamed of fire.
Not flames burning wildly, but slow, controlled fire. Fire contained behind glass. Watching. Waiting.
She woke up gasping.
Her door was open.
She was sure she had locked it.
A figure stood in the doorway.
Ethan.
He did not move when she sat up. The hallway light behind him threw his face into shadow.
“You’re not safe,” he said quietly.
Her voice trembled. “Then why am I here?”
His jaw tightened.
“Because you were already marked,” he said. “And this was the only way I could keep you alive.”
Before she could ask what he meant, he stepped back and closed the door.
The lock clicked.
From the outside.
Nora stared at the door, her body frozen, her mind screaming one thought over and over again.
She had not been hired.
She had been placed.
And whatever Ethan Cross was fixing, it had everything to do with her.
- Writer
