The memory of the car stayed with Serena long after the night had ended.

Even in the shower that morning, she kept seeing the headlights in her mind—too close, too steady, following her turns. She tried to tell herself it had been nothing.

Maybe it was a coincidence or her imagination.

But her body didn’t believe it.

A shiver ran through her as she dressed for work. She chose a loose blouse again. Another layer. Her own way to feel protected.

By the time she reached the office, she was already tired—not from work, but from carrying fear quietly.

When she stepped into her workspace, something immediately felt wrong.

Her...