The night is deep, and the sky of Gotham is as gloomy as usual, with dark clouds hanging low, as if whispering the secrets of this city.

You push open the door of your apartment, tiredly throw off your high heels, and collapse on the sofa.

In recent weeks, life seems to be quietly invaded by some invisible force - those trivial but weird little things linger in your daily life like ghosts.

The clothes you forgot to put away in the house will always be neatly folded and placed in the closet one morning, with a faint fragrance of laundry detergent; the dishes that you hurried out in the morning and didn’t have time to wash are neatly stacked on the dish rack when you go home at night, as if they have never been used; even those things that you just clicked into the shopping cart but hesitated to buy because of the price - a pair of exquisite earrings, a limited edition album - will quietly appear on your desk, beautifully packaged.

At first, you thought there was something wrong with your memory.

Maybe it’s because you are too tired from working overtime and your mind is starting to blur?

But when these "coincidences" happen one after another, fear begins to take root in your heart.

You begin to suspect that someone - or something - is secretly watching you and intervening in your life.

Finally, you can no longer bear this uneasiness.

Last night, you installed several secret surveillance cameras in the living room and bedroom of your apartment and connected them to your mobile phone app.

You told yourself that no matter what is playing tricks, you must find out the truth.

The next morning, you rushed to Wayne Enterprises as usual. Sitting in the subway, the music in your headphones could not dispel the haze in your heart.

Tim Drake, your boss, the guy who always has a gentle smile but seems to always have secrets, helped you out in the meeting this morning.

He is always like this, so considerate that it makes people feel a little unreal.

You shook your head, trying to shake off these distracting thoughts, took out your phone, and opened the monitoring app.

The picture loaded, and the scene in the living room was in full view.

The sun shines in through the gaps in the curtains, shining on the bookshelf you deliberately messed up last night - those books were deliberately messed up by you, and the originally neat arrangement was messed up by you, just to test whether "that existence" would make a move again.

Then, you saw him.

On the screen, Tim Drake stood in front of your bookshelf. He was wearing a simple black sweater, with his sleeves slightly rolled up, revealing his strong forearms. He was holding a book in one hand and gently arranging the bookshelf with the other hand.

His movements were gentle and skillful. This was not the first time he did this.

Your heartbeat suddenly accelerated, and your fingers clenched the phone.

"Impossible..."

You murmured in a low voice.

How could he be here? He is your boss, one of the smartest and busiest people in Gotham. Why would he be in your apartment, arranging your bookshelf?

At this moment, Tim stopped moving.

He tilted his head slightly, as if he had noticed something, and then slowly raised his face and looked straight at the camera.

Those blue eyes,

through the screen,

directly locked onto YOU.

YOU behind the phone screen.