The Stalker Next Door: 26. Smoke Before Fire

Mara had learned one thing from her captivity: fear was a weapon if wielded correctly.

She had nothing else — no strength to break her restraints, no blade to cut through the chains of their obsession. But she had her words, her expressions, her silences. And those, if she sharpened them carefully, could carve deeper wounds than knives.

The first Watcher had been on edge all week. His movements were tighter, sharper, as though he sensed the second slipping into cracks he couldn’t seal.

Every time he brought her food, every time he checked the locks, his eyes searched hers as if expecting betrayal.

And Mara gave him just enough to keep the suspicion alive.

She would glance toward the window as if listening for something. She would stiffen when he touched her, then force herself to melt against him a heartbeat later, as though caught between loyalties.

It wasn’t much. Just breadcrumbs. But breadcrumbs could lead wolves into traps.

The second c