Niralmi

Mark repeatedly replayed the watched video and couldn't make out what childhood visions Ian was talking about. He ruffled his hair, leaned back in his chair, and noticed a label with the title "Paradise" in the same folder. Remembering the note left by Ian in his jacket pocket, he immediately clicked on the square icon — a dialog box appeared on the screen: "Your intuition doesn't lie. They're watching you." "Ah, yeah, I told the detective back then that the old pervert from across the street, every evening, he stares at me through his binoculars," the sound of his own voice was supposed to instill confidence and bravery, but it turned out to be unnatural and even foolish. The guy fell silent. "You feel animal fear under your skin. They're here. In this room," a new phrase appeared. Mark once again, as before, momentarily turned to the window — now he was almost certain that the lamp, as if winking at him, attempted to turn on. Otherwise, nothing had changed: the same darkness