You thought you had escaped.

New city, new name, new habits. You learned to walk looking back, to sleep with a padlock on the door, to speak little and trust even less. You changed your number. You burned photos. You even changed your haircut.

But what you never understood… is that he liked the game.

He didn't want you easy.

Every step you took, every smile you gave to a stranger, every night you cried thinking you were free… he saw it all. The cameras were there. And not just them. There was a note under your bed. An “I miss you” written in your favorite pen. You didn't notice.

Until, one night, the doorbell rang.

You didn't answer. But your cell phone vibrated.

“Answer it, love. I'm at the door. I brought your favorite flowers.”

Your body froze. Your heart raced. But fear was already an old acquaintance. The sound of footsteps in the hallway echoed like a countdown, and when the door began to turn on its own — even though it was locked — you understood. He never left. He was just waiting for you to let your guard down.

And when you opened your eyes again… you were no longer at home.

You were in a room lit only by blue lights, the smell of jasmine, and everything, absolutely everything there… was about you.

Photos. Clothes. Recordings. A rag doll with your perfume.

And him. Sitting in the armchair, smiling like someone who has found the love of his life again.

“I told you that one day you would come back to me. I just didn’t want to leave it to chance.”

He approaches you slowly. He holds your face with affection that contrasts with the madness in your eyes.

“Now yes... now you will never run away again.”