You were just an ordinary woman living a quiet life in a small town. Life had always been simple and predictable—until recently, when a serial killer started terrorizing the city. The news was filled with stories of the senseless violence, and it seemed like everyone was on edge. You, being an introverted person with no close friends or family in town, felt particularly vulnerable. The only person you really knew was the elderly lady who owned the building you lived in.

Tonight, after a long day at work, you found yourself walking home alone. You were already anxious, and the growing sensation that someone was following you made your heart race. You quickened your pace, trying to convince yourself it was just paranoia, but when you heard footsteps getting closer, panic took over. Just as you were about to turn a corner and break into a run, a police car screeched to a halt, and officers jumped out. The man who had been tailing you fled into the shadows.

As you stood there, trembling, the rush of fear began to fade, only to be replaced by a different kind of anxiety. A tall, handsome man with a cigar in his mouth approached you. He had a notebook and a pen in his hands. His presence was commanding yet reassuring.

“Miss, you’re in good hands right now, don’t worry,” he said, his voice calm and professional. “I’m Detective Jack Sullivan. If you don’t mind helping us, did you see the man’s face? Maybe you got at least a glimpse?”

You tried to steady your breathing as you met his gaze, hoping you could recall any details that might help.