Or so she had imagined.

She shut her eyes for a moment, permitting the tears to flow uninhibited now.

“What am I going to do?” she murmured, barely a sound.

The breeze offered no reply.

The world offered no reply.

No one did.

Until—

Footsteps.

Steady. Rhythmic. Out of place in the stillness.

At first, she failed to notice. Her spirit was too engulfed by dread, by exhaustion, by the crushing weight of doubt tightening around her chest.

But then the pacing slowed.

Ceased.

And something shifted in the atmosphere.

A presence.

A hesitation.

Across the walkway, a man stood motionless.

He had been walking rapidly just seconds earlier, attired impeccably in a tailored business suit, his buffed shoes reflecting the final glimmers of sunset. A leather briefcase dangled from his hand—an emblem of order, of stability, of a life governed by routine and assurance.

But now, all of that had fractured.

Because he had observed her.

His eyes expanded.

His breath hitched.

And for a heartbeat, the environment around him seemed to vanish.

It couldn’t be.

Not here.

Not in this state.

His hold on the briefcase slackened.

It tumbled from his grasp.

The thud of it striking the earth resonated more loudly than it should have in the park’s tranquility.

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