Feeling a pang of guilt for being the reason behind her tears, I carefully set down the umbrella and knelt beside her, attempting to convey reassurance.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you," I said softly, but she continued to sob, seemingly inconsolable.
"Please, don't be scared. I won't do any harm," I pleaded, my voice gentle, my hand reaching out to gently wipe her tears away. A soft pat on her head followed. "You seem hungry. Let me make it up to you with breakfast."
Offering her a hand, I guided her to a chair and started preparing breakfast. For a while, silence enveloped us, broken only by the sounds of cooking. Occasionally, I noticed her stealing glances at me, curiosity etched on her face. Deciding to break the ice, I asked, "What's your name?"
"I um, Emma," she stammered.
"Emma, your name is just as beautiful as you," I complimented, making her blush. We shared a brief moment of laughter.
"What's your name?" she asked.
"Daniel. By the way, how did you end up in my house?" I inquired.
"I don't know. I was tired after work last night and went to sleep. And then I find myself going through some kind of tunnel-like thing. Next thing I knew, I fell out of that door or whatever it is," she explained.
"Wait, you came out from the portal? So, YOU ARE FROM THE OTHER WORLD?" I exclaimed, a mix of excitement and dread in my voice.
"There is another world?" Emma questioned, her eyes widening in astonishment.
"Okay, nobody freak out! It's fine, everything is perfectly fine! All we have to do is throw you back through the portal, and you'll be back home before you know it," I declared, trying to reassure both her and myself.
"But I—" Emma began, but I interrupted her, urgently leading her back to the portal and attempting to push her through. To my surprise, she was thrown back out. Confused, I tossed a pen at the portal, only to have it bounce back.
"No time to waste!" I exclaimed, my mind racing with panic. I realized with horror that I had created a one-way portal – anything from Emma's world could enter mine, but nothing could return.
In desperation, I handed Emma her breakfast and immersed myself in work. Days turned into nights, and I scoured libraries, acquiring various equipment to find a solution. Emma became my anchor, reminding me to sleep and eat amidst my relentless efforts.
One night, as I awoke at my desk, I found Emma sleeping soundly next to me, a plate of food in her hand. A sense of gratitude and admiration washed over me for all she had done. A gentle breeze fluttered through the window, tousling a few strands of her hair, and in that moment, I knew I had to find a way to send her back.