Chapter 33
Her
Al stands near the keypad by the door, patiently explaining the security system to me again for what feels like the third time. He has been here since morning, helping with everything, and while his protectiveness makes me feel safe, it also makes me feel slightly overwhelmed.
He keeps checking every detail like something terrible will happen if he misses even one thing. He looks at me with that serious face he makes when he is worried.
“The guy from the security company should be here any minute.” Al says, glancing at the door before looking back at me. “Told them to send someone good. I’m not trusting just anyone with this.”
I smile. “Al… seriously. Thank you. You’ve already done so much.”
He waves it off. “Hey, don’t start with that. That’s what friends are for, Ree. I just want you safe.”
“You’re starting to sound like my bodyguard.” I tease.
He snorts softly. “If that’s what it takes.”
Just then, the doorbell rings.
Al stands up immediately. "That must be him. Stay here. I’ll check."
"I can open my own door, you know." I call after him.
"I know." He says, already walking away. "But let me."
He opens it, and a man in uniform stands outside holding a toolbox.
"Hello, Sir. I’m from SecureHome. I’m here for the camera installation." The man says politely.
Al nods and steps aside. "Come in. We’ve been waiting."
The technician walks inside and looks around. "So as requested, I’ll install cameras at the front door, living room, kitchen, bedroom and one outside the front door. You’ll be able to see everything from your phone. I’ll show you how it works."
He hands me a pamphlet and shows something on his tablet. "You download this app, log in with the details I’ll give you, and you can see live footage anytime. It also records motion and sends alerts."
"Oh, that sounds easy." I say. "Thank you for explaining."
Al crosses his arms and speaks firmly. "Make sure the front camera covers the entire hallway outside. No blind spots. And the living room camera should also catch the windows."
The technician looks at me for confirmation. I nod. "That is fine. I trust Al. He just wants it to be safe."
As the man works, Al follows him around, adjusting angles himself. "Move it a little left. No, more. Yes. Now the bedroom one should cover both the door and window."
I watch them and laugh softly. "Al! You are supervising like a manager."
He does not laugh. "It needs to be right."
"It’ll be right." I say gently. "You can relax."
"I’ll relax when it’s done properly." He replies.
After a while the technician finishes and packs his tools.
"Everything is set. Call the company if you need anything."
"Thank you." I say.
Al walks him to the door and locks it after he leaves. Then he turns to me.
"Finally. Now I can breathe. At least I know you are watched and safe."
I hug him. "You really do a lot for me."
He gives a small shrug like it does not matter. "Someone has to."
I pull back, studying his face. "You say that like I would forget to take care of myself."
"You would." He says simply.
I huff a quiet laugh. "Wow. Rude."
His mouth curves faintly, but his eyes stay serious. Then suddenly he snaps his fingers like he has just remembered something. "Oh. I ordered Chinese. It should be here soon."
"You ordered food too?" I stare at him. "Did you schedule my breathing breaks as well?"
"Thought about it." He says. "You’d probably forget those too."
The doorbell rings right on cue.
I point at him. "You’re suspiciously efficient."
"I plan ahead." He replies.
We sit at the table a few minutes later, cartons open, steam rising between us. He watches me take the first bite like he is waiting for a verdict.
"Well?" He asks.
"It’s good." I admit. "You may continue being useful."
"I’m relieved I’ve your approval." He says dryly.
The casual humor softens the atmosphere, but I can still feel that thread of concern under everything he does. The way he keeps glancing toward the door, the windows, the corners of the room.
After a few bites, he leans back slightly, folding his arms loosely as if preparing himself for something more serious.
"So. Work?"
I sigh, letting my shoulders drop as the weight of it returns almost instantly.
"It’s fine. Busy. The cases are interesting, but sometimes they feel too close to home."
His expression tightens subtly, the humor draining from his face as he studies me more carefully than I like. "Then maybe you should not take those kinds of cases."
"I can’t exactly filter reality." I reply, staring down at my food.
"You can decide how much of it you let inside your head." He says quietly.
I give him a small look. "You worry too much."
"And you act like nothing touches you." He replies.
The way he says it makes something in my chest shift slightly, like he sees more than I want him to.
After lunch, we call Maddie, and her face appears instantly on the screen, bright and dramatic as always, like she brings her own spotlight wherever she goes.
"Look at you two." She teases. "Domestic already?"
"It’s not like that." I say, laughing despite myself. "Al helped me install security cameras."
Her playful expression softens immediately, replaced by genuine relief that makes me realize how worried she has been. "That makes me feel so much better. I hate you being alone there."
"Now she can monitor everything from her phone." Al adds, his tone calm but firm, as if repeating a fact he has personally guaranteed.
Maddie sighs dramatically. "I wish I was there. Being stuck here is torture."
"I’m sorry you got grounded because of me." I say, guilt threading through my voice.
She waves it off. "Ree, my dad does not need a reason. He just enjoys control."
We drift into old university memories naturally, the kind that always makes things feel lighter for a while.
"Remember Professor Richmond?" Al says. "The one who never learned anyone’s name?"
Maddie bursts into laughter. "He called me Madeline the Magnificent for an entire week."
"And you answered every time." I add.
"Because it sounded powerful." She defends.
The laughter comes easier after that, filling the flat with something warmer and more alive than it has felt all day. Then Maddie leans forward slightly, eyes sparkling.
"Al, show me that sculpture."
He hesitates just enough for me to notice before lifting his phone and angling it between the camera and me.
"It’s abstract."
The image steadies, and I lean in slightly, studying it more carefully as the details come into focus, my amusement fading into curiosity.
It’s unmistakably the shape of a woman’s body. Not a vague outline. Not a suggestion. A woman.
The curves are precise, the proportions careful, the posture deliberate. Shoulders soft, waist tapered, hips sculpted with almost unsettling attention to form, like whoever made it memorized the shape rather than imagined it.
I tilt my head. "That looks very realistic for abstract."
"It’s a study of form." He says.
Maddie squints. "That’s not form. That’s a whole woman."
"It’s anatomy practice." He replies, a little too quickly.
I cross my arms lightly, still looking at the sculpture on the screen, noticing the detail in the torso, the subtle carving along the collarbone, the careful shaping of the stomach like he took his time there.
"You studied very… thoroughly." I say.
Maddie snorts. "Research purposes, obviously."
"You two are impossible." He mutters. But he does not lower the phone right away.
For a second longer than needed, he keeps the sculpture in frame, like he is waiting. Watching. Me. Weird. Then he finally drops his hand.
We keep talking as the light outside slowly dims, shadows stretching longer across the walls, the flat growing quieter in that way it does before night fully settles in.
Eventually, Al glances at the time and stands up, brushing his hands together like he is reluctant but decides.
"I should go."
"You can stay a little longer." I offer.
He shakes his head. "No. Just keep the cameras on. Always. And call me if anything feels off."
"Al."
"I’m serious, Ree."
"I know."
He steps closer and hugs me again, tighter this time, his arms lingering just a second longer than necessary, like he is memorizing something.
"Good night."
"Good night, Iris."
When he leaves, the flat feels too still, the silence heavier than before, like his presence had been quietly filling the space without me realizing it.
I lock the door, walk back to the couch, and sit down, pulling my phone into my lap.
After a second of hesitation, I open the security app, curiosity nudging at me. If cameras are watching my flat now, I want to see what they see.
The live feed appears first. The room exactly as it looks in front of me. Same angle. Same lighting. Same quiet.
"Huh." I murmur softly.
I tap over to the recordings and scroll through a few clips from earlier. Nothing unusual. The technician working. Me walking past. Al adjusting a chair.
Just normal moments frozen from above. Then I see a clip from around lunchtime. I tap it.
The video shows me crossing the room toward the door when the bell rang. I watch myself leave the frame to grab the food.
And then I notice him. Al is still there. Standing alone in the middle of the room. My thumb stops moving. He is staring straight at the camera. Not smiling. Not moving. Just staring.
My stomach tightens. The look on his face is strange. Not angry or confused or curious. Just blank. Like he knows it is there. Like he knows someone will watch. I swallow slowly and replay the clip. He does not move even once.
A second later, in the video, I walk back in with the food, and instantly he smiles and acts normal again.
"That’s… weird." I whisper to myself.
Maybe I am overthinking. Maybe he just noticed the camera. Still, something about that expression makes my chest feel tight.
I shake the feeling off and push myself up from the couch, telling myself I am overthinking, that it was just a strange angle or a trick of light.
With my phone still in my hand, I start walking toward my bedroom, absentmindedly keeping the live feed open as it shows the same view the camera sees, the back of me moving down the short hallway, the dim light stretching my shadow along the floor.
For a few seconds, everything looks normal. Then something shifts on the screen. At first my mind does not register what I am seeing. It is just movement.
Subtle. Quiet. Almost blending into the background.
But it is not me. Someone is stepping into the frame behind me. My breath catches.
I slow down without meaning to, eyes locking onto the tiny screen as the figure becomes clearer with each step it takes. My heart lurches violently against my ribs.
I spin around. The masked man stands in my doorway. The world seems to snap silent all at once, like someone has cut the sound out of reality.
My body locks in place before my mind can react, every muscle stiff, every thought scattering. I cannot breathe. I cannot speak.
Cold fear floods through me, sharp and sudden, and with it comes the memory of the night crashing back so hard it leaves me frozen where I stand.