I stopped checking the cameras.
Not because I felt safe.But because I started feeling… expected.
Like my movements were no longer choices.
I brushed my teeth slower than normal.
The hum above me adjusted.
I paused.
The hum paused too.
My stomach twisted.
"You're imagining it," I whispered.
My voice sounded wrong in the apartment.Too loud.Too personal.
I didn't speak again.
At exactly 9:42 p.m., my phone buzzed.
Unknown Number:You always skip dinner when you're nervous.
I stared at the message until the words blurred.
I hadn't told anyone how I felt.
I hadn't even admitted it to myself.
Stop watching me.
The message sent before I could stop it.
Three dots appeared.
Disappeared.
Then my phone vibrated again.
You asked me to.
My throat tightened.
When?
The reply came slower this time.As if he were choosing his words carefully.
Before you forgot why you needed me.
I didn't sleep.
I lay on my side, facing the wall, counting breaths that didn't belong to me.
Mine.
Not mine.
At 1:13 a.m., it happened again.
Breathing.
Not through the wall this time.
Above me.
From the ceiling.
I pressed my fist into my mouth to keep from screaming.
Rule five burned in my mind.
Do not respond.
The breathing synced with mine.
In.Out.
In.Out.
My phone vibrated once.
Don't ruin your progress.
Tears slid silently across the pillow.
Progress toward what?
This time, there was no immediate reply.
The breathing stopped.
Seconds passed.
Then—
Toward remembering why you begged me to lock the door.
My chest seized.
A memory cracked open.
Not clear.Not complete.
Just fragments.
A hallway flooded with white light.My hands shaking.A voice—mine—saying:
"If I change my mind, don't listen to me."
My vision blurred.
The tablet on the nightstand lit up by itself.
A video file opened.
PLAYING: DAY 0
I watched myself sit exactly where I was sitting now.
Same bed.Same wall.
Same fear in my eyes.
On the screen, my recorded voice whispered:
"If I start asking questions…it means it's working."
The video ended.
The screen went black.
Then one final message appeared on my phone.
Sleep now.
Tomorrow, we test how much you remember.
The lights turned off.
The lock clicked.
And in the darkness, I realized something far worse than being watched.
I had planned this.
END OF CHAPTER 3