I.

A hot chill shakes me to my core as I read the note somebody left for me. It's a horrid scrapbook note of combined magazine letters that forms the message: "Watch your step." There is no elaboration and no indication as to its source. A part of me considers that it might be a fabrication of Jon's, but no I can't imagine him hodge-podging this thing together. That seems too involved and colorful for him. If anything, he would make Martin or Tim do it. It is likely someone here at the institute, but I seriously doubt it is Jon. I could waste energy trying to know it, but as much as it bothers me, it doesn't seem worth the effort.

As I stand in the dimly lit hallway, the crumpled note clenched tightly in my hand, a sense of unease begins to twist and churn within me, growing into an overwhelming wave of panic. The cryptic message on the scrap of paper feels like a weight pressing down on my chest, constricting my breath and sending my heart racing.

I try to tell myself it's just a silly prank, a harmless joke by one of my colleagues, but the rationalization falls flat in the face of my escalating anxiety. My mind races with terrifying possibilities, each more dreadful than the last. Is someone stalking me? Watching my every move?

Suddenly, the shadows seem to shift and loom menacingly, closing in around me like a suffocating blanket. Every creak of the floorboards, every whisper of the wind, sets my nerves on edge, sending tremors of fear coursing through my body. I struggle to control my breathing, but each inhalation feels like I'm sucking in shards of glass, and each exhale comes out in ragged, uneven gasps. My vision blurs, the walls closing in as if to crush me beneath their weight.

I stagger backwards, my legs feeling like jelly beneath me, until my back collides with the cold, unforgiving surface of the wall. Tears sting my eyes as I clutch at my chest, trying desperately to quell the rising tide of panic threatening to consume me whole.

As I struggle to regain control of my racing thoughts and trembling body, a faint sound catches my attention, a distant echo amidst the chaos of my panic. Footsteps. Heavy and deliberate, drawing nearer with each passing moment. Then, suddenly, he's there, materializing from the shadows, his presence a lighthouse in the midst of my swirling panic. His voice, low and steady, cuts through the haze of fear.

"Helen," he says, his tone firm yet reassuring. "It's alright."

I blink, the tears still lingering in my eyes, and focus on his familiar face, the lines of concern etched into his features. His hand extends towards me, offering a semblance of support and stability in the midst of my turmoil. This always happens though. It's probably just a part of a routine to him at this point, and I hate that he somehow manages to ground me every time. I ought to keep him around if only to manage my anxiety.

II.

My heart skips a beat as I unfold the note left on my desk. The neat handwriting spelling out a simple yet intriguing message: "Meet me at Cafe Luxe. -E"

My mind races with possibilities as I try to decipher the motive behind this. Is this like a now thing? It wouldn't be after work because I see him after work anyway. Strange. The idea sends a flutter of excitement through me, a hint of nervousness bubbling up in my chest. I hastily grab my wallet, my mind already conjuring up scenarios of our impending meeting.

A wind tears through me in the five minutes it takes me to walk to the cafe. It isn't far from the institute, I've gone there before with Martin. I have barely entered the cafe when his voice startles me. "There you are."

I spin around, Elias must not have been far behind. Strange that I got a head start.

A nervous laugh trickles out from me despite the stiff lock I tried to enforce on my jaw. "Is there a reason you asked me here?"

He looks at me with widening eyes. "I got a note from you telling me to come here immediately."

"I got one from you too."

He sighs, "Well, we're here. I'll buy." His hand settles at my elbow, and he walks me to the counter with him. He orders something that sounds incredibly bitter. I stare up at the menu fighting at the cold settling in my stomach. This is ridiculous. I shouldn't be so easily disposed. It's just coffee, but there are so many choices. What if I don't like any of them?

"What can I get for you?" the barista asks me.

I turn to look up at Elias beside me. "What do you think is good?" His gaze flickers to catch mine, and a smile splits his face for a moment. "How do you feel about white chocolate?"

"I like sweet things," I say, but the words come out as hardly more than a squeak.

He places an order for me before leading me to a table. "Are you always this jittery in public?" he asks with a hint of amusement.

"I didn't know what to choose," I admit, feeling a flush of embarrassment creep up my neck.

"I forget sometimes that you don't get out much."

"Ah, well, you know how it is," I reply, attempting to brush off my nervousness with a casual tone. "I don't really know London all that well, and I really only know you and the others. Not much opportunity for... making friends, I guess." My words come out in a rushed blur, the admission hanging awkwardly in the air between us.

"Life is nothing without lived and known experiences," Elias muses, his gaze thoughtful. "We should get you out more." His suggestion catches me off guard, and for a moment, I'm rendered speechless.

As Elias and I continue our conversation, his words linger in my mind like a comforting embrace. The thought of spending time outside the institute with him is both thrilling and nerve-wracking, but there's something enticing about the prospect of exploring London under his guidance.

"You said 'we'," I point out, a flicker of uncertainty in my voice.

"Well, yes. Let's take you sightseeing this weekend," he suggests.

"But, you're my boss," I remind him, feeling a twinge of unease at the idea of spending personal time with him outside of work. He did call me an idiot the other day. As much as he has been helpful to me, his criticism does wear on me at times. I think I need my time away from him as much as I need time with him.

"I would hardly say this is your typical boss-subordinate relationship at all," Elias counters, his tone insistent.

"And what would you call it?" I ask, unable to suppress a rising attitude.

"I'm still figuring that one out," he admits with a soft chuckle. "I know some bakeries that you would enjoy."

His unexpected suggestion catches me off guard, but before I can question him further, Elias's warm smile disarms me. "You aren't used to such sweet things, but give them a try, yeah? You'll have a good time."

As we delve into casual conversation, I find myself momentarily forgetting about the mysterious notes and Jon's unsettling behavior. But Elias's concern for my well-being brings it all back to the forefront. "Who do you think wrote those notes?" I inquire, unable to shake off the nagging sense of unease.

"I don't care, if I'm honest," Elias replies dismissively. "The institute was particularly hot and stifling today. Jon's been a bit antsy as of late."

"Yeah, he has," I agree, my thoughts drifting to the encounters with Jon that have left me feeling on edge.

"Speaking of, when are you going to tell me about the way he's treating you?" Elias asks, his tone that sharp stern razor that turns me into a bundle of nerves when its force is directed at me.

"It's fine, I'm managing it," I assure him, but his penetrating gaze tells me he's not convinced. I didn't sound very convincing, but I thought that would be enough. Elias doesn't exactly have a good track record for caring.

"Because ignoring things has served you so well," he remarks pointedly, his concern evident.

"Why do you care all of a sudden?" I can't help but ask, surprised by his sudden interest.

"I hardly think it's a bad thing for me to be invested in your environment. Isn't that what you want?" he responds.

III.

I have been having the worst day of all days. First, I couldn't find my phone. Then, Elias never showed up to take me to work. I figured since he didn't show that I probably should just stay at home today. I mean, what's the point of going to work if my boss isn't even there to notice, right? Besides, a day off might do me some good, considering how frazzled I've been feeling lately. So, I decided to treat myself to a lazy day at home, curled up with a good book and a hot cup of tea. Maybe some much-needed relaxation will help turn this day around.

Instead of the restful day of self-deprecation and reading as I had intended, I find myself waking from a fitful sleep, a nightmare haunted by Jon of all people, with the sun already down and my phone on the coffee table. I know for a fact it was not there before. I am losing my mind. It's like someone or multiple someones are playing some twisted games with me, making sure my days go bad. I rub my eyes, trying to shake off the remnants of the nightmare, but the sense of unease lingers. Maybe I should just call it a day and try again tomorrow. Maybe this is simply it, life never gets better.

I scroll through my phone, checking my notifications. I open up my messages between Elias, and to my surprise, there are messages that I know I did not send telling him I was feeling really sick and needed to stay in today. My heart pounds in my chest as I realize someone has been using my phone to communicate with Elias, impersonating me. The realization sends shivers down my spine. Who would do such a thing, and why? The feeling of being watched creeps over me, and suddenly, staying home doesn't feel safe anymore.

I consider the option to call Elias several times over. Something is strange. He did say I could ask for help, but no, it's late, I don't want to bother him. I'll bring it up some other time, or not at all.