The Surveillance Files
Back in his car, Jack tore open the folder, his hands shaking. Inside were pages of logs documenting Alice’s daily routines—times, places, even conversations noted in shorthand. There were coded references he didn’t yet understand, but the pattern was clear: Alice wasn’t randomly observed; she was deliberately targeted. The realization sent a cold shiver through him. Whoever was behind this had invested time and resources. This wasn’t paranoia anymore—it was systematic, calculated surveillance.
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