The folded note felt heavier than it should. Kaira's hands trembled as she stared at the words scrawled in bold, deliberate handwriting: "I know what you're hiding. Meet me here tomorrow at 10 a.m. We're not done yet."
She looked toward the café door, the sound of rain outside muffled by the low hum of conversations around her. The stranger—no, the man who knew her name—was already gone. It was as though he had vanished into the storm, leaving only questions in his wake.
Kaira's instinct was to tear the note into pieces and pretend it had never existed. But she couldn't. The man's words echoed in her mind: "Memories have a way of catching up with you." He had known, somehow. The map, the past she had buried, the carefully constructed life she had built on this side of the city—it was all unraveling.
A gentle voice interrupted her spiraling thoughts. "Are you okay, miss?"
She blinked, looking up to see the barista, a young woman with curly hair and kind eyes.
"Yeah," Kaira lied, slipping the note into her tote. "Just... lost in thought."
The barista offered a smile that didn't quite mask her concern and moved away to tend to another table. Kaira exhaled sharply and glanced out the window. The rain had slowed, but the sky was still heavy with gray clouds.
Her fingers itched to take out the map from her tote, but she resisted. The map had been her secret—a relic of the life she once led. To anyone else, it was just a collection of streets and landmarks. But Kaira knew it was more than that. It was a key.
A key to a life she had sworn never to return to.
The hours dragged on, and by the time she got home, the note felt like a burning coal in her pocket. Her small apartment was quiet, save for the faint creak of the floorboards beneath her boots. She flicked on the lights, their soft glow illuminating the modest but cozy space—a bookshelf overflowing with novels, a tiny kitchen with mismatched mugs, and a window that overlooked the bustling streets below.
Kaira tossed her tote onto the couch and pulled out the note. She read it again, her mind racing. Who was he? And how could he know about her?
Her phone buzzed on the table, startling her. The caller ID flashed Unknown Number.
Her first instinct was to ignore it, but something made her reach for the phone. "Hello?"
A pause. Then a voice—low and measured. "Did you open the note?"
Her heart slammed against her ribs. "Who is this?"
"You already know."
It was him.
Kaira gripped the phone tighter. "What do you want from me?"
"I want you to meet me tomorrow," he said. "Just like I wrote. The café. 10 a.m. Bring the map."
Her throat tightened. "Why should I trust you?"
The man's voice softened, but the intensity remained. "Because, Kaira, the people coming after you won't ask nicely. And if you don't listen to me, they'll find you before I can help."
Before she could respond, the line went dead.
Kaira stared at the screen, her mind racing. Her hand drifted to her tote, pulling out the folded map she hadn't looked at in years. She spread it across the table, her fingers tracing the faded ink marks she had made long ago.
It wasn't just a map. It was a guide to something she had thought was lost. Something she had tried to forget.
Then, her phone buzzed again. Another Unknown Number. This time, a message.
She hesitated before opening it. The text was short but chilling:
"We're closer than you think. Don't trust him."
Her breath caught. Her gaze darted to the window as paranoia set in. Could someone be watching her?
Before she could move, there was a knock on her door.
Three sharp, deliberately knocks.