The black, creepy sensation of being followed closely is infrequently your brain playing tricks. Yasmin can feel someone in the street behind her, she knows she isn’t alone. She hurries to her door, she tries to find her keys when a push behind throws her into the shadow of her apartment. A struggle, a shout, a person hits the ground…. He never saw it comingback. Yasmin gets her perpetrator bound and bagged, his grief crossing his head smack his face. This is the woamn. This woman has her own invasion intended.
