Anna

When Anna leaves the city for a weathered farmhouse at the edge of the countryside, she means to mend a life that has grown too loud. The quiet seems like a cure-until the first note appears on her door: I SEE YOU. Then the phone begins to ring with nothing but breath. A chair sits an inch out from the table. Footsteps hesitate on the gravel and do not return.
The local police are kind, if cautious. A neighbour arrives with pies and practical advice. Daniel-Anna's almost-love-drives down and swears the house will feel ordinary again. Locks are fitted. Patrols sweep the lane. For a time, routine holds. Yet the signs keep multiplying, and the proof keeps vanishing, as if the house itself had learned to swallow it.
So, Anna writes rules and lives by them-Open things in daylight. Keep them shut at night-because rules are a way to breathe. But isolation has its own weather, and fear and once invited it learns every room.
Taut and devastating, ANNA is a psychological thriller about the stories we build to survive, the love we cling to when the lights go out, and the single night that can change a life.