The Second Figure
Claire looked up.
Across the courtyard, Apartment 307 was glowing.
The tall figure stood behind the window.
But this time, it wasn’t watching her.
It was standing beside someone else.
Claire’s blood ran cold.
The second figure stepped forward.
It was Claire.
Wearing the same dark blue sweater.
Standing in the same bedroom.
Looking back at herself.
The next morning, Apartment 307 was empty again.
Mr. Harris found no footprints. No message. No evidence. Claire moved out that afternoon. She never returned to Mercer Street.
Years later, she still remembered one thing. Every night at 11:43, wherever she lived, she checked the window. She never saw the man again.
Until one rainy evening, in a new city, in a new apartment, Claire looked across the street. A familiar figure stood behind a curtain. And the lights went out.
