Chapter 4 Watching

"Oh shoot! Rachel is going to kill me!" Madison groaned as she peeked at the time display. She was thirty minutes late, and Rachel, her boss, was not one to condone lateness. In a hurry, she snatched her coat and bag before bolting out of the door.

She hurried downstairs, her footsteps echoing in the building as she made her way to the parking lot. Fumbling her keys, she unlocked her car and tossed her bag onto the passenger seat before she hit the ignition.

Pulling out of her apartment, Madison ran into traffic as the morning sun casting its hue over the city. She tapped over her wheels, cursing herself repeatedly for sleeping through her alarm. She couldn't afford to get a lecture from Rachel, her boss from the gallery, that morning.

"Why can't I seem to get it together for once?" she muttered, cutting into a lane.

Madison swiped into the parking lot behind the gallery with her heart racing as she parked in her usual spot. She swooped up her bag and hurried inside, the sound of her heels hitting hard against the marble floor.

"You're late!" Rachel said, holding a clipboard and standing at the reception near the desk with arms crossed and lips pressed into a thin line.

"I know, I know." Madison replied with an apologetic smile. "Traffic was crazy this morning."

"Traffic?" Rachel clearly unimpressed.

Madison held up her hands in mock surrender. "Okay, maybe I hit the snooze button one too many times."

Rachel shaking her head, exhaled slowly. "Madison, we have clients coming in today to preview the new exhibit. I need you to focus. Can you manage that?"

"Yes, absolutely," Madison replied, quickly slipping behind the counter. Rachel sighed and set her clipboard down.

"Madison, you are talented and hardworking, but this can't happen again. We have a reputation to maintain. Clients rely on us for professionalism. Can you manage that?"

"Yes, I can. I will do better, I swear."

"Good. Now, we have got work to do."

The day passed in a whirl of activity. Madison assisted in arranging the final pieces for the exhibit, her hands carefully placing sculptures and adjusting lighting to perfection. She greeted clients, guided them through the gallery, and answered questions about artists and their works. It was the kind of work she loved, immersing herself in the beauty and stories of the art. For a while, she almost forgot the strange events of the past few days.

But not entirely.

By the time the gallery closed for the evening, Madison was exhausted. She leaned against the counter, rubbing the back of her neck as Rachel locked the front door.

"Good work today," Rachel said, her voice softer. "Go rest Madison. Tomorrow's going to be just as busy."

Madison nodded, snatched up her bag, heading out through the back door. On reaching the parking lot, she was met with total silence, her heels clicking against the pavement. As Madison slid into the driver's seat and shut the door, she spotted three hooded figures lurking in the shadows.

A chill ran down her spine as she gripped the steering so tight, her thoughts swirling in fear. But as she drove away, she tried convincing herself it was probably nothing.

The drive home was calm, though Madison kept glancing at the rearview mirror, half expecting to see headlights trailing her. By the time she pulled up to her apartment building, the tension in her chest had twisted into something simpler. She parked in her usual spot and moved inside, her footsteps echoing as she climbed up the stairs.

Once inside, she bolted the locks, leaned against the door, the familiar scent of lavender doing little to ease her nerves. Tossing her bag onto the couch, she poured herself a glass of water in the kitchen and stood there with her mind replaying the episode at the parking lot over and over.

"Why were they just standing there?" she thought, frowning. "Why didn't they move?"

Later on, Madison sat at her small desk, scrolling through her emails on her laptop from clients and artists, but one stood out. It was an email with no subject line and no sender listed.

She clicked.

The email was brief, just a single line of text.

"You are being watched."

She walked to the door and windows without delay, double checking, as if expecting to find someone hidden from view. Her first thought was to delete the email and pretend it never existed, but then she thought of a better way.

She flagged the message, forwarding to a separate folder, awaiting the opportunity when it will come in handy.

However, her mind raced with multiple questions desperately seeking answers. "Who sent it? How do they know where I am? But the bigger question still loomed. "Why?"

Sleep that night was out of the question. She laid flat in bed, staring at the ceiling as her thoughts went wild. Images of the hooded figures in the parking lot intertwined with the memory of the email. "Was it all connected?"

When the first beam of dawn finally crept through her curtains, she felt as though she hadn't slept. She crawled herself out of bed and into the shower, letting the water wash over her as she tried to let go of the fear she had inside of her.

The day passed by with little stress, much to Madison's relief. As the day wound down and the gallery emptied of clients, her anxiety returned. Rachel left first, waving goodbye with a tired smile. Madison stayed behind to close up, locking the doors and setting the alarm. She finally turned off the lights and stepped into the parking lot, the warm glow of the streetlights casting long shadows across the pavement.

And that's when she saw them.

The same three hooded figures were standing beyond the edge of the lot.

Madison's heart leapt into her throat. This time, they weren't still. They were moving slow and deliberately towards her.

She hastened her pace, groped for her keys, as she approached the car. The hooded men didn't run, didn't shout, and didn't make any attempt to stop her. They just walked, closing the distance with an unsettling calm.

Madison threw herself into the driver's seat, slamming the door shut and locking it in one fluid motion. Her fingers shook as she jammed the key into the ignition and started the engine.

The men stopped, standing just a few feet from her car.

Madison didn't wait to find out what they wanted. She backed out of the lot and sped away, her hands firm on the wheel that her knuckles turned white.

She kept checking her rearview mirror, convinced they were following her, but the streets behind her remained empty. By the time she got to her apartment, Madison was shaking and sweating so profusely. She locked the door behind her and checked the windows again to be sure no one was standing outside. Her paranoia heightened to a fever pitch.

She throw herself to the floor with her hands on her head.

"What do they want from me?"

The question echoed in her mind, but there were no answers. Only the gnawing certainty that whoever they are, they aren't going to leave that easy.

And Madison had no idea how to stop them.