What lies in the shadow : From university to unexpected love.

Later that night, I'm in David's car. I'm not sure how it happened, he offered to drive me home, and I didn't say no. To be exact, it seemed more like he insisted. Why did I not say no ? Maybe I didn't want to be alone. The silence between us isn't really awkward, but it's heavy. Charged.

When we reach my building, he pulls over slowly in the parking lot and looks at me.

"Let me walk you to your door," he says, his voice gentle but firm.

I hesitate, but I nod. I feel safer when he's nearby, and he seems determined to escort me to my door. Tonight, I need that feeling of safety. I am all alone, without Amy, and my secret valentine may be a freak following me to harass me.

"Alright," I murmur. "Just to the door."

We walk in silence up to my apartment. At the door, he gives me a soft smile, but he doesn't leave right away. He seems uneasy, looking for something to happen maybe. He might be sick, because I can hear him sniffle a bit as I unlock the door.

"Want to come in for a beer?" I ask, surprising myself. I don't have a reason for this bold move, only a feeling. An impending doom feeling, I need someone here.

He raises an eyebrow. Surprised by my boldness ?"I shouldn't stay too long… but a beer sounds good."

Once inside, I close the door behind us and lock it. The apartment is warm, familiar, but it feels different tonight. I can not explain why, but it does not feel like home. I show him to the couch, and goes grab beers. Once I opened the bottles and gave him one,we sat together in the living room. The silence stretches. I can feel his gaze, even when he's not looking directly at me. There are so many things left unsaid between us, so many thoughts running through my mind, but no words seem to fit what I want to express..

I don't know what I'm feeling. But I know I need to share something with him. A thing that can break ice, and bring us interesting discussions.

"I want to show you something," I say suddenly, standing up.

David looks confused but follows me without question. Until we are in front of my bedroom.

"Deirdre… You know we can't…" His voice is exhausted and sad.

"No! It's not that ! You know, not everyone lives alone and can expose their morbid collection in the living room" I say while I open the door to my room.

I lead him into my bedroom revealing inside my collection. Skulls. Specimens in jars. Various bones. Years of fascination, study… lots of money spent! I show him the skull with two trepanation holes. He moves toward it, gently tracing the marks with a finger.

"This is incredible, he survived twice…" he murmurs, as if absorbing the sheer amount of history before him.

"Yes, he did." I state.

While I go to sit on my bed, I feel something. A package. Neatly wrapped. Out of place.

"Wait." My voice is almost audible.

I grab it and sit, my heart starting to race. What the heck is that ? I unwrap it carefully.

Inside the box is a jar. And inside the jar… a neat slice of brain tissue. Clearly recognizable. A chill sweeps through me. David and Amy are the only ones to know about my collection of dead things. But something is not adding up. He was at work the whole day, and would have many opportunities to hide it in my office. Not my bed.

"David," I whisper, "what is this? When did you put this here ?"

He steps forward, eyes scanning the jar. His expression darkens. "It's not from me."

I feel something cold and nauseating settle in my chest. I stare at him, my mind still reeling from the day's events. I am exhausted, physically, emotionally, but more than that, I am scared. The idea of going to sleep alone in my apartment after everything that had happened makes me feel vulnerable.

"Someone was here," I say slowly. "Someone came into my apartment."

David's jaw tightens. "We're calling the police."

He reaches for his phone, then pauses. "And a locksmith."

I nod, dazed. In complete shock. A locksmith ? Yes, the person broke into my apartment. The door is not broken, so they may have one key. Oh my…

David hangs up the phone, the policeman must have told him to come tomorrow to the police station. He then proceeds to call a locksmith.

"What do you mean it is not an emergency ? … No she is not locked outside but… Ok. See you tomorrow." He clearly looks pissed when he hangs the phone.

"Deirdre," he says, voice soft but insistent, "You can't stay here tonight. You are alone with a weirdo running free that has your keys. You will be more safe in my house."

I hesitate, but the thought of sleeping here, with that jar in the room, makes my skin crawl. Even though I already have plenty of body parts in my room, at least I know where they come from. This brain slice on the contrary could come from a murder and I have no way to know it.

"Okay," I whisper. "I'll stay at your place tonight."

He exhales, relieved. He doesn't say anything else, and just takes my bag and goes to the door

"Wait, let me take a few minutes to pack some things" I interject.

I nearly ran to the bathroom to take my toothbrush, make up, those kinds of essentials. Back in my room I pack underwear, one shirt and pants. I then proceed to join him in the living room.

As I follow him out into the night, I glance one last time at the apartment building behind me.

Whoever did this, whoever's been watching me, isn't done yet.

But neither am I...