The paranoia grew worse. Sophia barely slept, barely ate, and stopped leaving the house except for work. Her eyes were glued to either the forum Carson had sent her with updated information or to the news on television, desperate for new information. But nothing ever came.

Dean noticed. Of course, he noticed. He never argued about all the nights in, never questioned why she had become so withdrawn, but it wasn't lost on Sophia how many worried looks he sent her way when he thought she wouldn't notice. He cooked and ordered all of her favorite foods and was more physically affectionate than usual, rarely spending a moment together without touching her in some way. He told her he loved her about every five minutes.

But she couldn't bring herself to tell him. She wanted to; she really did. And it would be the smart move. The only smart move. If she was a character in a movie, Sophia would be screaming at the screen for her to tell him, pulling her hair out as to why she was being so stupid. But every time she opened her mouth, the words failed to come.

She had a lot of excuses as to why she didn't say anything, but everything boiled down to one of two things. If she told him, either she was right, or she was wrong. And the outcome of either scenario terrified her.

If she was wrong, all that would mean was that she allowed the memory of Graham to cause trouble in their relationship, again. Dean would worry about her and the fact that she got so paranoid over nothing, but wouldn't be able to do anything to help that. It would be embarrassing and frustrating, and trying to figure out why Sophia jumped to that conclusion would consume her life.

And if she was right? Well, there were plenty of reasons why that would be terrifying, but it was the most terrifying of all that kept Sophia's mouth shut.

Dean would do anything to keep her safe, especially when it came to Graham. And so if he was coming after her and Dean found out about it? Graham would have to go through him before he could get anywhere near Sophia.

Dean would do anything to keep Sophia safe. But Sophia would also do anything to keep him safe. If Graham was coming for her, then he was coming for her. Nothing could change that. But he didn't want Dean. He hadn't killed any men. So Sophia would do everything in her power to keep Dean out of Graham's crosshairs.

So she kept quiet. She didn't tell Dean, she didn't tell Raina or her friends at the hospital. She didn't even tell Dr. Alvarez, who also clearly knew something was wrong, but allowed Sophia the space to bring it up only if she wanted to.

She forced down food even though her appetite was almost completely gone. She pretended to be asleep when Dean came home late from work and when he would wake up in the morning. They weren't anywhere near normal, but she did her best to keep their life together as normal as possible.

But inside, she was falling apart, the anxiety over Graham and the guilt over keeping Dean in the dark ripping her insides to shreds.

"Sophia!"

Sophia looked up from picking at her nails at the nurses' station to find Rocky the charge nurse staring at her, eyes narrowed and lips pursed. "Yeah, where do you need me, Rocky?" Sophia asked, clasping her hands behind her.

Rocky came over so she didn't have to yell. "Honesty, I need you to go home."

"What? Why?"

"Sophia, I don't know what's been going on with you lately, but you haven't really been here for days. You're exhausted all of the time, you're distracted, you've been horrible with patients, and right now, it's better not to have you here than have you here in this state."

Rocky's words were harsh, but Sophia could even muster the energy to feel bad about them. She was right.

"Look, go home," Rocky said. "Get some rest. Come back tomorrow ready to actually work. If you can't manage that, then we're going to need to have a longer talk about what's going on with you."

Unable to even argue, Sophia just nodded. "I'll grab my stuff."

She felt tears prick at the edges of her eyes as she walked to her car. She had always been good at her job. She had always been one of the best at her job. And now, she couldn't even last a shift.

The tears dissipated soon after she left the hospital. For the third time, Sophia glanced in her rear-view mirror to find someone following her every move. This time, the offender was a Honda.

Her knuckles turned white on the steering wheel and her breathing increased at a rapid rate. As always, the car turned away at the last moment before Sophia got to her apartment. But with it being the second incident in a week, despite everything, it was making her rethink her vow of silence.

Someone was actually following her. That much, she knew. It had been a different car every time, but not even she could make herself believe that being followed home from work three times was a coincidence.

She could call the cops about that, right? Or she could tell Dean about it. She didn't have to bring up her suspicions about Graham, at least not yet. At least find out if the police thought someone was actually threatening her.

But then again, what could the police do? All Sophia had about whoever was following her was the make and model of three different cars. Getting the police to take stalkers seriously was hard enough as it was.

She could tell Dean. She would tell Dean. He would be mad, yes, that she had kept this from him, but he would forgive her. And if she didn't tell him about Graham, he would have no reason to go seeking out her ex.

Sophia pulled into her parking spot but then frowned when she didn't see Dean's car. She half-sprinted to her building, breathing a sigh of relief when the door shut and locked behind her. Another sprint up the stairs, and she was behind her locked apartment door.

Empty. Sophia pursed her lips. Of all days, why did he have to be gone, today? Pressing her phone to her ear, she waited until Dean picked up after the second right.

"Hey, what's up?" he asked.

"Um, I'm at home, where are you?"

"Already?" Confusion laced his voice. "You left early?"

"Uh, yeah. I'm not feeling great. Rocky sent me home early."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine. Where are you?"

Dean sighed on the other end of the line. "At work," he admitted. "I switched shifts with Carson, so I won't have to work tomorrow."

"Oh, okay. That's cool." She knew why he took the different shift. It was so he could have more time at home, with her.

"Do you need me to come home?" Worry laced his voice.

"No. No." Sophia did her best to push conviction into her voice. "Listen, I just want to sleep, anyway. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Make sure to eat something, too."

Sophia paused. "I will." The lie rolled off her tongue far too easily. It made her hate herself.

"Sophia, Sophia baby, I love you."

She squeezed her eyes shut at the emotion running through those words. "I love you, too."

"I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

"See you tomorrow."

Sophia took in a shaky breath as she looked down at the keypad on her phone. Just three numbers, all she had to do was dial those three numbers. Hating herself, she locked the phone and threw it on her couch. She couldn't do it. And what would she tell them? She had no idea where the car went and didn't get a license plate number; something, she figured, she should start doing.

In an attempt to be somewhat true to what she told Dean, she forced herself to down a couple of bites of cereal, but the food just sat in her stomach, making her feel more ill. She jumped at every creak and bump she heard, the empty apartment feeling more like a tomb than her home.

All she had to do was survive until tomorrow. Then Dean would be home and she could come clean.

Her eyes flickered to the lock on her door, and then to where the kitchen knives sat innocently on the counter.

Less than twenty-four hours. She could do that.

Or, maybe she couldn't. Sophia paced the length of the apartment, constantly checking to make sure the door was still locked, the knives were still there, and no one was lurking outside. It was the last item on her list that eventually caused her problems

Her blood ran cold when she saw the car sitting outside the building. It was the same car, she knew it was. Was the person driving it still inside? Or were they heading up to her now?

Panic pressed in on her vision and she lurched sideways. She grabbed the counter, breathing hard, and then looked around desperately for her phone.

She'd been stupid. So stupid. But even she wasn't this stupid.

Her eyes fell on her phone where it still sat on her living room couch and she darted to grab it and then sprinted back to the kitchen. She grabbed one of the kitchen knives and then slid down to the flood behind the island, clutching the knife in one hand and dialing 9-1-1 with the other.

"9-1-1, what is your emergency?"

"Um, hi, I, uh," Sophia glanced back to her door, making sure it was still locked. "I think someone followed me home from work."

"Someone's following you?" The voice was level and calm on the other end, a lifeline for Sophia to grab onto as a current of chaos threatened to pull her under.

"Yeah, I think so, I was driving home and there was this car that was on my tail the whole time. They left right before I got home but now they're back and sitting outside my house."

"Is anyone in the car?"

"I don't know."

"Ma'am, what is your address?"

Sophia quickly rattled off the street and building number, her breathing growing more and more erratic.

"Okay, ma'am, police are on their way. Do you have any weapons on you?"

"Just a kitchen knife."

"Okay, when they get there, I'm going to need you to put that down."

"Okay."

"Has this happened before?"

Sophia swallowed hard. "I think so," she said. "I've been followed a few times, but they've never been outside my apartment building. Or, at least I don't think they have."

"Okay, ma'am, I'm going to need you to do your best to stay calm. You'll have people outside your door in two minutes. What's your name?"

Sophia let herself be calmed by the operator's voice. "Sophia."

"Where are you now, Sophia?"

"In my kitchen."

"Are your doors locked?"

"Yes."

"Just stay there, then. Agents will be there soon."

Sophia blinked at her words. Agents?

The few minutes she had to wait felt like years. She half expected Graham to burst in at any second, carrying something much deadlier than a kitchen knife. Each second dragged on, the operator's voice drawing out with the time.

She stifled a small shriek at the hard knock on her door. "I think they're here," she whispered.

"That's the information I have on my end," the operator confirmed.

Another knock. "Ms. Shelby? Federal agents."

How the hell did they know her last name? "Thank you," Sophia whispered to the phone.

"You're welcome."

The line went dead, and Sophia stood up on shaking legs, not relinquishing her claim on the knife just yet. She crept to the door, heart pounding, and peered through the peephole.

Well, it certainly wasn't Graham. A tall man in a suit stood outside her door, looking more impatient than anything else.

"You have a badge?" Sophia called through the door, not willing to take any chances.

His hand went into his jacket, and Sophia prepared to throw herself out of the way if he pulled out a weapon.

He flashed the badge by the peephole, and Sophia let out a breath of relief. Steeling herself, she put the knife down and pulled open the door.

The agent stared down at her with a carefully guarded look. "Ms. Shelby," he said. "My name is Special Agent Mike Travers. I'm with the Federal Bureau of Investigation. I'm here to talk to you about Graham Dempsey."