Chapter 101 #19: Perverts Stare
The apartment still smells like strangers when the last uniformed officer finally leaves. Dust from overturned cushions hangs in the air, mixing with the faint chemical scent of fingerprint powder. Vincent stands in the doorway of the master bedroom, arms crossed, watching the two detectives pack up their kits.
“This place has been turned upside down,” the officer says mildly, flipping open a notepad. “But you’re saying nothing is missing?”
“Yes,” I say for the third time. “Nothing.”
“Nothing missing,” the older one says again, like repetition will make it true. “Drawers rifled through, closets searched, but no valuables taken. Even the jewellery box was intact. No forced entry beyond the front door. Alarm was disabled cleanly, which means someone knew the code or had a bypass. We’ll run the serials on the disabled panel, but these days that’s usually a cloned fob. Happens more often than you’d think.”
Vincent nods once. “And the vandalism? The slashed cushions, the broken frames?”
“Could be rage,” the younger detective offers. “Or staging. Sometimes they make it look messy so you don’t notice what they really took.”
“But nothing is gone,” I say, voice flat. I’m still holding Lucy against my hip even though she’s been asleep for an hour. Her weight is the only thing keeping me grounded.
The older detective shrugs. “We see this more than you’d expect. Opportunistic break-ins, kids high on something, someone looking for cash and getting frustrated when they don’t find it. There are no signs of a professional crew – no tool marks, no cut wires. So far, this looks completely random.”
They leave their cards and promise to follow up if anything turns up in the system. The door closes behind them with a soft click that feels too final.
Vincent turns to me. “You okay?”
I shift Lucy’s sleeping body higher. “No. But I will be.”
He crosses the room, takes her from me gently, then carries her to the guest room we’ve turned into a temporary nursery until the master is cleaned. I follow, watching him tuck her in and smooth the blanket over her shoulders. She doesn’t stir.
When he comes back out, he pulls me into his arms. I let him. I need the solid warmth of him right now.
“We’ll get new locks,” he says against my hair. “A full system upgrade. Cameras. Motion sensors. Keycard access only. I already have the company coming tomorrow morning.”
I nod into his chest. “Good.”
He kisses the top of my head. “They’re gone. Nothing was taken. It’s over. We're safe baby.”
I don’t argue. I want to believe him.
Later, after the cleaning service has come and gone, after the slashed cushions have been replaced and the broken glass swept away, after Lucy has woken up cranky and been fed and bathed and put back to bed, I sit on the couch with my phone in my lap and dial Sel.
She answers on the second ring. “Two calls in two weeks. Careful, I might start to think you’re obsessed with me.”
“Close enough.” I keep my voice low. Vincent is in his office on a call. “Someone broke into the apartment today while we were at Disneyland. The door was wide open, alarm disabled, everything tossed. But nothing missing.”
Silence on her end for a beat. Then: “Same as the Red Room.”
I close my eyes. “Exactly the same. They searched but didn’t steal. They were looking for something.”
“And you’re sure it’s not random?”
“The police think it is. But they didn’t see the Red Room report. They didn’t see how clean the entry was. How methodical. This wasn’t kids looking for cash – I had enough in my jewellery box alone to set them up for life – this was someone who knew what they were doing.”
Sel exhales. “You think it’s connected?”
“I think it’s the same person. Or the same people.”
Another pause. “You have enemies, Nora. You’ve always had them. But this feels… personal.”
“It does.” I rub my temple. “Vincent’s installing cameras tomorrow. Full coverage. I’m starting to notice things too. Cars that sit too long on the street. Men who watch my face instead of my ass when I walk by. I told myself it was paranoia.”
“It might be,” she says gently. “But it might not.”
I laugh, short and bitter. “Great. Comforting.”
“You want comforting or you want truth?”
I sigh. “Truth. Always.”
“Then stay sharp. Keep your eyes open and if anything feels off, call me. Day or night. I still know people who can make problems disappear.”
I smile despite myself. “I remember.”
We hang up. I sit there in the dim living room, phone in my hand, listening to the quiet hum of the city outside the windows.
Vincent comes out of his office a few minutes later looking tired. He sits beside me and pulls me into his side. “She’s out cold.”
“Good.” I lean into him. “Thank you for today. For Disneyland. For reminding me what matters.”
He kisses my temple. “We’re okay. We’ll be okay.”
I nod. I want to believe him.
We go to bed early. Lucy sleeps between us again, her small body curled against my chest. Vincent’s hand rests on my hip over the covers. I stare at the ceiling in the dark, listening to their breathing.
The next few days pass in a strange, watchful rhythm. The new security system goes in – cameras at every angle, motion lights, reinforced locks. Vincent checks the feeds obsessively. I start taking different routes home, varying my schedule. I tell myself it’s caution, but I know it’s more than that.
I keep seeing the same black SUV two cars behind me on the way to pick up Lucy. I keep noticing the same man in a grey coat reading a newspaper outside the coffee shop near the office. He never looks directly at me... and that’s what makes it worse. Perverts stare. This one watches.
I tell myself it’s just paranoia.
I almost believe it.
Friday night we order takeout, open a bottle of wine, let Lucy watch her favourite cartoon until she falls asleep on the couch between us. Vincent carries her to bed. When he comes back he pulls me into his lap, then kisses me deeply, the way he used to before everything got complicated.
“I love you,” he murmurs against my mouth. “No matter what.”
I kiss him back. “I love you too.”
We’re curled on the couch, our legs tangled, when my phone buzzes on the cushion beside me.
I glance at the screen but see an unknown number.
I open the message.
《Daddy’s protection is gone, princess. It’s time to pay your father’s debts. Where’s the ledger?》