It was raining when I first saw him.
Not the soft, romantic kind of rain. This was the heavy, angry rain that made the whole city look blurry and unreal. I was standing at the bus stop, holding my bag close to my chest, wondering why life always chose the worst nights to surprise me.
My name is Anaya, and until that night, my life was painfully normal.
The bus was late again. I checked my phone—11:47 p.m. The street was almost empty, except for one flickering streetlight and the sound of water hitting the road. I felt cold, tired, and strangely nervous, as if something was about to happen.
Then I noticed him.
He stood across the road, under the broken streetlight. Tall, dark jacket, face half hidden by the shadow. He wasn't using his phone. He wasn't waiting for a bus either. He was just… standing there, watching.
My heart skipped.
Why is he staring at me?
I looked away, pretending not to notice. But that strange feeling didn't leave. When I glanced again, he was walking toward me.
"Don't be afraid," he said softly.
His voice was calm, but his eyes looked tired—like he had been running from something for a very long time.
"I think you dropped this."
He held out a small silver locket.
I froze. My fingers touched the cold metal and memories rushed into my mind—my mother's voice, her smile, and the night she disappeared.
"How do you have this?" I whispered.
He stepped back, rain soaking his jacket.
"Because your life is in danger," he said. "And I'm the only one who knows the truth about your past."
Before I could ask anything, headlights appeared at the end of the road. A black car was coming fast—too fast.
"Run," he said.
"What?"
"Trust me. Run!"
Fear took over. I ran down the empty street, my heart pounding like a drum. When I finally looked back, he was gone.
But the locket was still in my hand.
And deep inside, I knew—
nothing would ever be the same again.