Kaira hated the rain. Not because it soaked her hair or ruined her shoes, but because it always reminded her of the day she left everything behind—her old life, her old dreams, and the man who once promised her the world. She had made a silent vow never to look back. But as the downpour blurred the city streets, it felt as if the rain was mocking her, daring her to remember.
Her scarf wasn't enough to shield her as she hurried along Ember Street, clutching her tote like it contained secrets too precious to lose. And maybe it did. She kept her head down, the sharp patter of rain blending with the city's muffled chaos, until the faint glow of her new favorite café came into view.
Then she tripped.
It wasn't a dramatic fall—no flailing arms or sprawled legs. But her tote slipped from her shoulder, spilling its contents onto the rain-slicked pavement: a battered notebook, a pen, and a crumpled map she couldn't bring herself to throw away.
"Rough morning?" a voice cut through the rain.
Kaira glanced up sharply, her breath catching. The man standing a few feet away wasn't someone you'd forget easily. He had the kind of presence that seemed misplaced in the mundane bustle of a rainy morning. Dressed in a dark coat that looked both expensive and well-worn, his hazel eyes held a quiet intensity that made her feel as though he could see straight through her.
She scrambled to gather her things. "You could say that."
He stepped closer, crouching to retrieve her pen. When he held it out to her, his fingers brushed hers—an unremarkable gesture that somehow left her unsettled. "Carrying secrets, are we?" he asked, nodding toward the map.
"Just memories," she replied, tucking it back into her bag.
"Memories are tricky," he said, his tone shifting into something unreadable. "They have a way of catching up with you."
Before Kaira could respond, thunder rumbled overhead, and the rain came down harder. The stranger removed his coat without hesitation and draped it over her shoulders.
"You'll freeze out here," he said matter-of-factly, ignoring her protests.
She narrowed her eyes, half-suspicious. "Chivalry isn't dead, then?"
He smiled faintly, tilting his head toward the café. "Let me prove it. Coffee's on me."
The pragmatic part of her screamed to refuse. But there was something in his gaze—something familiar yet entirely unknown—that made her pause. Against her better judgment, she nodded. "Fine. But I'm ordering the most expensive thing on the menu."
The café's warmth was a welcome reprieve from the chill outside. Kaira shrugged off his coat, draping it over the back of her chair. She noticed the faint scent it carried—a blend of cedarwood and something sharper, like ozone before a storm. It was oddly comforting.
As they waited for their orders, the stranger leaned back in his chair, studying her as though she were the puzzle he'd been waiting to solve. "You're not from around here, are you?"
"Is it that obvious?" she asked, trying to keep her tone light.
"It's the way you hold yourself," he replied. "Like you're searching for something."
Kaira's chest tightened. "And what about you? You don't seem like a regular on Ember Street."
"I'm just passing through," he said, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. "But you're right. I'm searching too."
The sound of their drinks arriving cut through the tension, but before the stranger could continue, his phone buzzed on the table. He glanced at it, his expression shifting from casual to alert.
"I have to go," he said abruptly, standing so quickly that his chair scraped against the floor. He dug into his pocket and placed a folded slip of paper beside her cup. "Thank you for the company, Kaira."
She froze. "I didn't tell you my name."
But he was already at the door, the rain swallowing his retreat. For a moment, she just stared at the paper. When she finally unfolded it, her heart sank.
It wasn't blank.
Written in neat, deliberate handwriting were the words: "I know what you're hiding. Meet me here tomorrow at 10 a.m. We're not done yet."
Kaira glanced toward the door, her pulse racing. She hadn't told him her name. And she definitely hadn't told him about the map.