In a small apartment on the outskirts of the city, she lived alone. She was not afraid of solitude, but sometimes, a strange feeling crept over her, especially when she woke up to find that the objects she had left scattered on the floor had mysteriously returned to their places with unusual precision.

One night, after a long day, she dozed off on the couch while watching an old movie. The lights were dim, and the window was slightly open, allowing the cold breeze to slip inside. In the middle of the night, a mysterious man entered the apartment. He wore a mask that covered half of his face, moving silently as if afraid to wake her.

He approached her, observing her peaceful features, then leaned down slightly and gently ran his fingers through a strand of her hair. She breathed steadily, but for a moment, her eyebrows furrowed, as if she sensed something. He pulled the blanket that had slipped off her and carefully tucked it over her.

In a barely audible whisper, he murmured, "Sleep well..."