"The bond that links your true family is not one of blood, but of respect and joy in each other's life." - Richard Bach

Saint

The doorbell rang precisely one hour later. I opened the door to find Marcus standing there, a grim expression on his face and a thick folder tucked under his arm. Daisy, sensing a new arrival, wound around his legs, purring a greeting.

"Morning, Marcus," I said, stepping aside to let him in. "Thanks for coming so quickly."

"Of course, Saint," he replied, his voice serious. "This is… this is not good."

We went into my suite, and Marcus immediately spread the contents of the folder out on the desk. Photos, documents, police reports – a collection of fragments from Veronica's past. I recognized some of them; cases we'd worked on together, incidents I'd been aware of. But there were others, things Veronica had never shared with me, shadows she'd kept hidden in the depths of her past.

"I pulled everything I could find," Marcus explained, his voice low. "Everything that might be relevant to what's happening now."

I started to go through the documents, my heart sinking with each new piece of information. There had been other incidents, other threats. A stalker from her college days, a series of harassing phone calls a few years ago, an unsettling encounter with a man at a conference. Each one, on its own, seemed like an isolated event. But together, they painted a disturbing picture – a pattern of vulnerability, a target on Veronica's back.

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"Why didn't she tell me about these?" I asked, my voice tight with a mixture of anger and concern.

Marcus sighed, running a hand through his hair. "She's private, Saint. And she doesn't like to dwell on the past. She prefers to move forward, to pretend it didn't happen. You know how she is. But… it always catches up, doesn't it?" He paused, a flicker of something akin to brotherly concern in his eyes. "I've known Veronica since she was five, Saint. We practically grew up together. Our moms… well, they were best friends. Neither of them could have kids, so they both adopted. They were so close, it was like we were family."

I nodded, understanding dawning. I knew Marcus and Veronica had a close bond, but I hadn't realized just how deep it went. It explained the protectiveness in his voice, the almost frantic concern he'd displayed on the phone.

"So, you think of her as a sister?" I asked.

Marcus gave a wry smile. "Absolutely. We bicker like siblings sometimes, but… yeah. She's family."

I nodded, my respect for him growing. This wasn't just a professional obligation for him; it was personal. He was worried about his sister.

"It makes sense now," I said. "Why you're so invested in this."

"Of course I am," Marcus replied, his voice firm. "I'll do whatever it takes to keep her safe."

I picked up a photo of a man, his face blurred, with a caption that read "Suspect in College Stalking Case." "Did they ever catch this guy?"

"No," Marcus replied. "He disappeared. Vanished without a trace."

"And these phone calls?" I asked, pointing to a series of police reports.

"They stopped eventually," Marcus said. "But they were never traced. The police chalked it up to some prankster."

"A prankster who knew her name, her address, her schedule?" I countered. "That's no prank."

Marcus shrugged helplessly. "I know. But there wasn't enough evidence to go on. Veronica didn't want to press charges. She just wanted it to be over."

I understood her reluctance. The fear, the violation, the sense of helplessness – it was something I could only imagine. But it made me even more determined to protect her now. I wouldn't let this go on.

"There's one more thing," Marcus said, his voice hesitant. He pulled out a piece of paper from the folder. "This is a statement from Veronica's college roommate. She mentioned a few other incidents, things that weren't officially reported. Small things, mostly, but they add up."

He handed me the paper. As I read the roommate's account, my unease grew. There were descriptions of unwanted gifts, lingering glances, a sense of being watched. Nothing concrete, nothing that would hold up in court. But enough to paint a picture of someone who was obsessed with Veronica, someone who had been watching her for a long time. Someone who might be back.