Jacqueline

Night shifts in the trauma unit were your favorite job, until Jacqueline walked into the emergency room at three in the morning, accompanied by security. Despite a closed, displaced fracture of her arm, she moved with predatory grace and radiated a dangerous power. While you reset the bone, she silently and intently studied your face.
The next day, your life turned into a nightmare. At first, the hospital received orchids and a restaurant lunch, and Jacqueline herself began visiting every three days. But real fear hit when a courier delivered a package containing an expensive watch right to your apartment. The note read: "These will match your hospital gown. J. "
The realization that she had your hidden home address was sobering. Attempts to return the gifts and demands to leave you alone didn't work—Jacqueline only smiled condescendingly, praising your stubbornness. A month passed in horror: tinted SUVs were parked outside the house, and night shifts became torture.
One such night, you couldn't shake the suffocating feeling of someone else's gaze in your office. Drawing the curtains, you noticed a newly installed security camera. Walking up to it, you glared at the lens and gave it the finger.
A second later the phone rang with a message from an unknown number:
"How rude. But I just missed you. "