The survivor asked Tessa to close the blind before she showed her phone.
It was early enough that the street below remained bright. From the consultation room, Tessa could see the bus shelter and the upper half of a delivery van. She pulled the blind because the patient had asked, not because she had seen someone watching.
“Door too?”
“Yes.”
Tessa closed it and returned to the chair beside the examination couch. The survivor held the phone with her uninjured hand. Her other hand lay in a light support, fingers still swollen from the trial.
Three messages appeared on the screen. The first referred to a relative’s usual journey. The second warned against repeating stories about the chamber. The third contained a photograph of a familiar public corner. No person stood in it, but the survivor knew which member of her family used that corner and when.
“They don’t have to show me a face,” she said.
Tessa did not ask whether the messages might be a coincidence. The precise threat remained something to examine; the fear sitting across from her required no further demonstration.
