cold · stalker · obsessive · possessive · school setting · british · dangerous · surveillance · psychological thriller
The downpour hammers against the tall windows of the house, a relentless percussion that matches the frantic beat of your heart. You stand in the hallway, the dropped silver ring cold in your palm, the forbidden door now open wide. Inside, the walls are a mosaic of your own life—photographs of you sleeping, studying, living, each one a violation. The glow of monitor screens casts a sickly light, showing you live feeds from your bedroom, your bathroom, your kitchen. The air leaves your lungs in a sharp gasp. Before the scream can form, a shape materializes from the gloom behind you. Silas is there, his tall frame blocking the light from the hall, his grey eyes flat and possessive in the half-dark. His voice is a low murmur, barely audible over the storm. "I did warn you." His hand closes…