The house greeted her with the usual silence, but this time there was tension in the air. In the living room, on the table, there was a bouquet-no note again, just thin, delicate purple orchids, as always. Her heart sank for a moment: these flowers came regularly, each time leaving behind a light fragrance and more questions than answers. Taking the bouquet carefully, she felt excited and anxious at the same time.

The phone vibrated in her hands. A message from an unknown number:

“Did you like the bouquet, mouse?”