I'm waiting for you

7.

Weeks pass in unbearable anxiety. The investigation makes no progress, her mysterious admirer seems totally elusive. Her sketch of the delivery man has turned up nothing. The florist from which the bouquets were delivered keeps changing. Moreover, all payments were made in cash. The identification of the suspect or an accomplice is almost impossible. No one seems to remember who buys these flowers. At the same time, gifts from "M" keep arriving on her doorstep. Bouquets, but also jewellery and expensive clothes. Not wanting to owe this man anything, she throws everything in the bin or donates it to charity. Some of the gifts she receives would have allowed her to flee to her new life, but she refuses to accept or sell any of these gifts for her own benefit. On the other hand, she no longer dares to go to work in anything other than her little second-hand car, which she bought years ago, and she no longer goes to private dances. She only goes out to work or to run a few quick errands, her flat gradually turning into a prison.

Several times, she has tried to surprise the man who drops off these famous presents every day. Once she thought she saw a figure through the peephole, but no sooner had she unlocked the door than the stairwell was silent. It was as if the delivery man had vanished. From that day on, the presents no longer arrive when she awakes. She discovers them when she returns from work. Frustrated, she ends up leaving the packages on the doorstep with a big sign telling the neighbours to help themselves if they like anything. Shortly afterwards, an unstamped letter was dropped in her mailbox. A new message from 'M'.

"You can give away all my presents, but you will eventually be mine. And that day will come soon. M. "

Eyes fixed on the convoluted words, she crumples the letter in her fist before throwing it across the room with a cry of frustration. She falls to her knees. This time it's too much. It can't go on. She puts on her coat, then rushes to the police station, asking to see Inspector Stazic. His eyes are dark and his temples are greyer than ever, and he gives her a sorry look.

"We are tracking him down, Miss. Alas, without success for the moment. This 'M' is totally uncatchable.

- So you're giving up, is that it?

- No, a man has been killed. But as long as we don't have any new elements, we can't do anything. This case is going nowhere. It seems our man is an expert at covering his tracks.

- And what about me? Where do I fit into this story? I can't go on like this, I'll end up going crazy!

Again her vision turns red. It's happening more and more often. The inspector doesn't seem to notice anything, while inside she feels as if she's being consumed. He continues to talk to her, his gaze filled with pity:

"I'm going to speak to you in all honesty. There is nothing we can do for you at this point. If you are given the opportunity to go away, at least for a while, perhaps he will leave you in peace.

She looks at him uncomprehendingly at first, then the light comes on. Leave. Maybe he's right. If she walks away, if she disappears... It's a bit of an early jump on what she had planned, but it might be her only chance to escape her stalker. She rises from her chair, plunges her gaze into the policeman's coldly.

"I see. I can only rely on myself. I will disappear. I'll start my life again somewhere else. Thank you, Inspector."

She turns on her heels, then walks out of the police station with a determined step. The helpless inspector watches her walk away. She knows what she has to do. Everything will be all right.