CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND EIGHTY THREE - When the Past Becomes the Present

But even as she said the words, a chill ran down her spine. Because deep down, she wasn't sure they would figure it out. And she couldn't shake the feeling that whoever was watching her was getting closer, biding their time, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. The next morning, Deonna woke to find Logan already up and pacing the bedroom, his phone pressed to his ear. "I don't care what it costs," he was saying, his voice tight with anger. "I want every inch of this building covered. If a fly sneezes, I want to know about it." Deonna sat up, her heart racing. "Logan? What's happened?" He ended the call and turned to her, his face grim. "There was another... delivery last night. The cameras didn't pick up anything." "What was it?" Deonna asked, dreading the answer. Logan hesitated, then walked over to the nightstand and picked up a small box. "This was left outside our door." With trembling hands, Deonna opened the box. Inside was a photograph – of her, asleep in their bed.