Lena Mitchell wasn't used to standing out. She liked the quiet simple, unnoticed. The world she inhabited was one of soft edges, where things didn't demand too much attention. But sometimes, life had other plans.

It's was Thursday evening, city covered with people starts to empty as people rushed home after long days of work. Lena wrapped her coat tighter around her slender frame as she by herself walked through the almost empty sidewalk of the city. She was walking home after work long at the café non-stop, her mind already running through the list of things she needed to do the next day.

Her phone instantly buzzed in her pocket, distracting her from the thoughts she had within herself.

New message: "Are you coming over tonight? It's been forever!"

She sighed, staring at the screen. It was from Sarah, her college friend. They hadn't seen each other in months, but Lena always felt drained after socializing for too long. Her idea of a good evening was a hot cup of tea, a book, and the comfort of her own space. Maybe another time, she thought. She quickly typed a reply: Not tonight. Work's been crazy. Let's catch up soon.

Pocketing her phone, she continued down the street, the cool air biting her cheeks. It wasn't a long walk to her apartment just a few blocks from the café. Still, as her boots clicked against the pavement, she felt the weight of her exhaustion settle in.

As she walked passed a dimly lit alley, something immediately caught her eye a flash of movement. She instantly paused, eyes scanning the shadows, instinctively taking a step backward. At first, she thought it was a cat or perhaps someone out of sight. But then, there was a sound a heavy thud followed by a muffled groan. It was human.

Without thinking what to do , Lena sprinted towards where the sound came from, her heart hammering and adrenaline rushing. She turned around the corner of the alley and did not move.

A man was lying on a ground, his face ghostly pale with agony written over it. His black suit had a tear at the shoulder, and on his shirt front dark red colour was spreading. The smell of blood mingled sourly with that of wet concrete.

Lena's breath caught. Panic swelled in her for an instant, then careened toward something else. She bent by him, hands jerking as she reached to lift his head.

"Are you all right?" she called, the words no more than a mouselike squeak.

The man's eyes fluttered open for a moment, then closed again as he moaned softly.

Lena glanced about her in alarm. There was no one else nearby; the street empty and oddly muted. She had no idea where the responsible party might have hidden himself.

"Stay with me," she urged, her hands automatically moving to check his pulse. It was there—indistinct and thready but steady enough. Relief swamped her.

He needs help.

The thought sharpened her focus as she yanked her phone from her pocket and dialed 911.

"Help's coming," she murmured, then bent to give what he needed.

 His breath came in shallow hitches, and his hand twitched when she laid her hand on top of it.

The dispatcher's voice was soothing but clipped. "What's your emergency?"

"There's a man here," Lena began, her voice tight with fear, "He's been hurt. I think he's been hit by a car. He's bleeding badly."

"Just stay with him." The dispatcher was calm but firm. "Help is on the way. Do not move him, just keep him as comfortable as possible."

Lena nodded, though she knew he couldn't see her. Her fingers brushed against his cheek, and she felt the heat of his skin beneath them, though he was barely conscious. She winced as she saw the gash on his forehead. Blood had begun to pool around it, but his breathing was steady enough that Lena tried to convince herself he wasn't growing worse.

"Stay with me," she muttered, a prayer she didn't believe in.

 It felt like forever before they came, their blaring cutting through the silence of the alley. Lena didn't let her eyes stray from his face once they did but it was clear he waas unconscious.

Someone reached her then and she stepped back. The lady, maybe in her thirties, nodded at her thankfully.

"Got him?" she said, remaining calm and speaking professional.

Lena stepped away, feeling her pulse slow as she watched the medics lift the man carefully onto a stretcher and load him into the ambulance. One of the paramedics gave her a brief, grateful smile.

"Thank you for staying with him," she said. "You did the right thing."

Lena nodded, her mouth dry. She didn't know what else to say.

As the ambulance sped away, she stood frozen for a moment, her breath still shallow. What had just happened?

The next few days felt like a blur. Lena had returned home that night, shaken, and barely slept. She'd tried to put the man out of her mind but couldn't. Something about him the strange pull of familiarity, the way his face had looked even in unconsciousness lingered in her thoughts.

Then, on Monday morning, her phone rang again. This time it wasn't a text but a call.

"Hello, is this Lena Mitchell?" The voice on the other end was smooth, polished. "This is Ethan Grayson. I believe we have a meeting today. I'm looking forward to it."

Lena froze, the name hitting her like a thunderclap. Ethan Grayson? The same man she had helped just days ago? How was this possible

"Yeah, of course," she mumbled, thinking really fast. "I-I didn't know... you're-"

"It's a kind of surprise, isn't it?" Ethan's voice was very friendly, but without a doubt contained a note of something unspoken, as if he was pushing down his feelings. "I actually would like to have a conversation with you in regard to a potential opportunity. If you're free today, we might meet in my office around ten."

Lena stopped for a moment. How can this be the same person? Nevertheless, it was the same voice. He is the one she's helped. The face is the same. Moreover, the suit is also the same.

"Of course," she said, although her voice was still unsteady, but she was adamant. "I will be there."