So naive. A year of living in the city and you've already become accustomed to every crack in the sidewalk. One year in the city and you believed that you knew it by heart. One year in the city, and you no longer looked over your shoulder during your late-night return from work at the local hospital, keys between your fingers, as if scared that any dark alleyway might hide a perpetrator. One year, and you felt safe. You don't waste time looking over your shoulder anymore. You don't worry that someone will run up the front steps and grab you while you're defenseless. Maybe you should be.

Ghost sees you outside of your job and becomes obsessed with you.