The subway was louder than usual.
Or maybe Emir was just hearing everything differently now.
The screech of metal against metal.The hum of lights overhead.The whispers of two students behind him debating something—politics, maybe. Their words were fast, sharp, but hollow.
"They speak with certainty," the voice noted,"but not with wisdom."
Emir closed his eyes and listened harder.
— "Then how do I speak differently?"
"By listening longer than you speak.And by asking better questions."
That afternoon, he stopped by a café he used to frequent during college.Same rickety chairs. Same chalkboard menu.
He sat at the far corner and pulled out his notebook.
Not to write.
To wait.
He didn't know why.
And then she sat across from him.
No invitation. No introduction.Just presence.
Short black hair. Sharp eyes. A thick file under one arm.
She tilted her head.
— "You're Emir Kara."
He blinked.
— "Do I know you?"
— "No. But I've read you."
His blood ran cold.
— "What do you mean?"
She opened the folder. Pulled out a printed copy of something he'd written and deleted weeks ago.
"We carry memories not because they're easy,but because forgetting is how tyranny begins."
His line. His words. Never published.
He'd written it, then erased it.
— "How did you get this?"
She smiled faintly.
— "Things don't disappear just because you're afraid to share them."
He was speechless.
"This is how it begins," the voice said."Not with a parade. With a conversation."
She leaned forward.
— "We've been looking for people like you."
He raised an eyebrow.
— "People like me?"
— "People who ask the right questions."
She placed a single card on the table.No name. Just a phrase:
The Remembering Circle
— "Come if you're ready to speak.Or if you're ready to listen."
She stood and left before he could reply.
Emir sat alone again.
Except he wasn't alone anymore.
There was her.There was the voice.And now... there was a possibility.
That night, he stared at the card.
It burned quietly in his pocket all day.Now, in the dark, it glowed brighter than it should've.
— "Should I go?"
"You're not the one deciding anymore.We are."
He smirked.
— "Still bossy."
"Still necessary."