I didn’t like the way that sounded.
Things became even stranger at Jake’s birthday party.
There were a lot of guests. Jake was outside with his friends, Susan was busy in the kitchen, and for a few minutes I was
alone in the living room. Robert walked over to me.
“Emily, can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
He stared at me urm for a long moment. That same look again.
“Is your mother’s name Margaret?”
My heart suddenly started beating faster.
“Yes. How do you know that?”
He didn’t answer immediately.
“Jake must have mentioned it, I suppose.”
But I knew Jake hadn’t. I had never even talked to Jake about my mother’s name.
After that day, I began watching Robert more carefully.
And the more attention I paid, the stranger his behavior seemed.
Whenever Jake left the room, Robert talked to me longer.
One day, he asked what town I had grown up in. Another time, he asked whether my father was still alive. I froze.
I knew almost nothing about my father. My mother had always told me that he had left when I was very young.
“He wasn’t part of our lives,” I answered shortly.
Robert’s expression changed.
“Is that what your mother told you?”
At that exact moment, Jake came back into the room, and the conversation ended. That night, I seriously considered telling
Jake everything. But what was I supposed to say?
“I think your father looks at me strangely”?
Maybe I was imagining things. Maybe I was reading too much into his behavior.
Then, three weeks later, something happened that I could no longer ignore. Jake and I had argued.
Nothing serious. He had forgotten about plans we had made and went out with his friends instead. I was hurt, so I went to his parents’ house earlier than usual to pick up a bag I had left there.
Robert was the only one home. He immediately noticed that something was wrong.
“Did you and Jake have an argument?”
I nodded.
“It’ll pass.”
Robert was silent for a moment.
Then he said,
“Emily, listen to me. If urm anyone ever hurts you, call me first.”
I froze. His voice was far too serious.
“Robert…”
He stepped a little closer. I suddenly felt uncomfortable.
Every strange moment from the past few months rushed through my mind at once. The staring. The questions.
Paying for my car. Always protecting me. Remembering every tiny detail about me.
And just as I was about to tell him that all of this was starting to cross a line, he continued. The continuation read in the
comments 
“Because once before, I failed to protect someone with those same eyes.”
I stared at him.
“What?”
Robert turned and walked toward his office.
A few minutes later, he came back holding an old, worn envelope.
He pulled out a photograph.
Two young men were standing beside a car with their arms around each other’s shoulders.
