The air was thick with unease as you sat across from Sienna Shaw in her small, cluttered living room. Papers, news clippings, and police reports were scattered across the coffee table. Her hands shook slightly as she sipped coffee, but her eyes burned with determination.

“I don’t get it,” she said, voice tight. “Why me? Why does he keep coming after me?”

You leaned forward, scanning the files. “There has to be a reason. Patterns don’t just… happen.”

Sienna nodded, flipping through a torn news clipping. “After the first incident, I thought it was random. But now… it’s like he’s obsessed. And I can’t stop thinking about what he wants from me.”

Together, you started piecing everything together. Dates, locations, even the way Art the Clown seemed to anticipate her movements. There were no clear leads, only fragments that felt deliberately placed, like a puzzle meant for her to solve.

“We need to understand him,” you said. “The second attack… he escalated. That wasn’t just random sadism. He’s… watching, learning.”

Sienna clenched her fists. “And I’m tired of running. I need to face him. But I can’t do it alone.”