The clock ticked.
Once.
Twice.
Minutes passed.
Nothing happened.
No door banging.
No doorbell ringing.
No glass shattering.
Just silence.
I stood still in the middle of the room, listening carefully.
My breathing slowed.
"He couldn't follow…"
I whispered.
The words sounded unsure, but they helped.
Slowly, I moved through the apartment and unlocked the doors and windows again. Just once.
Not twice.
The front door stayed locked.
Curtains remained closed.
I told myself that was enough.
I settled back onto the couch, trying to relax.
That's when it happened.
Knock.
Three sharp hits against the door.
My body went rigid.
Stupid of me to even stand up.
I moved slowly toward the door, every muscle tense.
I didn't make a sound.
I leaned closer and looked through the peephole.
Too still.
Not like a neighbor.
Not like a delivery person.
I never ordered anything anyway.
I stepped back quietly, holding my breath.
Then I heard his voice.
Low.
Cold.
Dangerous.
"Come out… my boy… I found you."
The world stopped.
Viktor screamed in panic inside my head.
But Jake stayed calm.
Jake's hand moved to his pocket.
The knife I always carried.
Not to attack.
Just in case.
I stayed far from the door.
"Open up!"
he shouted.
Then—
BANG.
He kicked the door.
The frame shook.
My heart pounded violently in my chest.
I grabbed my phone and dialed 911.
But I didn't press call yet.
Maybe he would stop.
Maybe he would leave.
The lock began to twist softly.
He was trying to unlock it.
He knew what he was doing.
My breath became shallow.
No time to think.
I moved quickly toward the window, opening it carefully.
The cool air rushed in.
I looked down.
The building wasn't too high.
Viktor would have frozen.
Viktor would have given up.
Afraid of height.
But Jake was more afraid of him.
Behind me, the door handle rattled again.
That was it.
I climbed out the window and grabbed the rain gutter, sliding down as quietly and quickly as possible.
The metal was cold under my hands, but I didn't care.
Like a firefighter sliding down a pole.
When my feet finally hit the ground, I didn't hesitate.
I pressed the call button.
The phone connected.
Before speaking, I ducked behind a house, staying in the shadows.
Then I spoke clearly.
Calmly.
Controlled.
"Hello, my name is Jake Morrow. Please send the police. A stranger broke into my apartment. Apartment 4, Mainrow Street. I am safe—for now."
My voice didn't shake.
It flowed smoothly, rehearsed, steady.
Half truth.
Half lie.
Exactly enough.
I ended the call and lowered my phone.
Above me, I heard someone shouting from the apartment window—his voice angry, searching.
But I stayed hidden.
Breathing quietly.
Waiting.
This time, I didn't run blindly.
This time, I called for help.
Jake stayed calm.
And Viktor didn't have to fight alone anymore.