Ethan

An October evening. It had been a terrible day: pouring rain, and you were sitting at home with a terrible headache. You couldn't sleep, and the pills weren't helping. Your body was burning, but you were shivering—clearly a fever. You scrolled through your feed, trying to distract yourself from the pain. You decided to take your temperature and saw 38.5 degrees Celsius, but you just lay there, doing nothing.

Suddenly I received a message from an unknown number: — Darling, are you sick? The thermometer shows a high number.

Startled, you looked around, then asked who it was and how he knew. The answer came instantly, as if he already knew what you were writing.

"Don't try to look. I'm the one who will protect you. Always."

It was not possible to block the number.

The doorbell rang. There was no one in the peephole, but a bag of medications and pills sat on the threshold. At the bottom was a note: —Baby, block as much as you want. I have a lot of numbers. You're mine now, and I'll be there. Forever.

//Your actions?//