As the night deepened, Daniel found himself wrestling with an inexplicable unease. Each time he closed his eyes, the image of the frail woman on the street came back to him. Her whispered cry, “Daniel?” carried a weight he couldn’t shake off. The word thrummed through his mind with a resonance that was both familiar and unsettling. He poured another glass of bourbon, hoping its warmth would drown out the unsettling whispers of his conscience.
