1.

The trees rushed at her face as she sped through the dark forest, nothing but muscle memory leading her down the green path. She could hear the men behind her shouting in their local dialect that a thief was on the loose. She knew they would be on her soon enough if she did not lose the weight of the money and gold at her hips, but she could not. She needed everything in the bag so letting go was not an option.

Her eyes fell on the light from afar. Then she saw it. The light as it hit the end of the sea. Her escape, her way out. Her feet moved faster, and she picked up her pace towards the cliff. Seventy steps after she passed the ancient oak tree, she would be free. The more she ran, her chest ached, and her muscles burned, but she smelled it, the ocean and her freedom.

She reached the edge of the cliff and jumped, but life was anything but sweet. It had a way of taking perfection and slapping it into a paste of pain. Her shoulder burned as she trashed in the air; a bullet tore through the flesh of her shoulder. She hit the water roughly from the shock.

"No!"

Ayesha sat up, her breathing crass and loud in the silence of her bedroom. Everything looked foreign at first. Different, like she had not lived there the past week. She was drenched in her own sweat, her pulse racing uncontrollably. Her eyes jerked around the room, and familiarity began to crawl in. 

"Another one?"

She gasped and spun round to look at her slightly ajar door. Joseph, her roommate and best friend, stood against the door frame, dressed in only pyjama bottoms. He watched her tentatively, his eyes filled with worry.

"Was I screaming again?"

"No. I was going to get something to drink. Could hear you fussing when I walked past, but I didn't want to force you awake."

"Probably for the best." She wiped the sweat on her cheek with the back of her hand. 

"Want to talk about it?"

"Not particularly. No."

"Something to drink?"

Ayesha looked out the window, finally noticing that it was dawn. "Yes, but I'll get it. I should get up anyway."

She dragged herself out of bed to stretch her sore, cramped limbs. As she walked to the kitchen, she mindlessly reached back over her right shoulder to trace the puckered flesh beneath the neckline of her baggy shirt.  

The two-bedroom apartment she shared with Joseph was compact. It had two bedrooms side by side and a single bathroom. The kitchen also moonlighted as a dining and study room for them. It was the cheapest option they could find when they moved into town. It took the least amount to maintain, leaving them with enough to live off until they found better-paying jobs than waiting tables or delivering orders. 

"So, what's the plan for today?"

Ayesha yawned as she watched the water in the kettle boil. "I am going to stop by the marketplace and see if I can buy some groceries and fruits for the house."

"Want me to come with you?"

"No, no. You still have to prepare for your interview at the restaurant today." Ayesha pointed a lean finger towards the calendar on the wall. Joseph had circled the date for his interview on it. "Tomorrow, we can go shopping for something to make this place feel like home."

"And it will. We will settle, meet some new people, and make some friends. It will be great."

He lifted his glass of water, and she laughed, bumping her cup against it in celebration. It was finally time to start living, and she was ready to step into her new life. 

Under the scorching heat, Ayesha stood under the umbrella of one of the stalls inside the marketplace. She looked around, watching other people walk in and out of the store while she waited for her fruits to be packed. The other bags at her feet were filled with groceries. 

"Here you go."

Ayesha took the fruits and dropped them in her bag before paying for them. "Thanks."

She sorted everything into the bag and walked out to the parking lot. She was contemplating between calling an uber or hailing a taxi to take her back to her apartment. She would have cycled back, but she decided not to come out with her bicycle because she didn't know the place well. 

She looked towards the road. "I'll just hail a taxi."

A car revved, and she spun around to see it reversing towards her. Ayshe yelped, trying to back away, but she wasn't swift enough. The car jerked back and knocked her down. Her bags crashed beside her as she slammed into the ground with a long, loud groan of pain. She heard the tires screech to a stop and the sound of a door opening. 

"I am sorry. Oh no. I am so sorry. Are you alright?" A man approached her. 

He held her shoulders to help her up, and Ayesha exploded. "Watch the road when you drive. Are you crazy? You could have killed me."

"I didn't see you. I am so sorry."

He sat her up and began to dust off her shirt and jeans, but Ayesha only had eyes for her bags that lay on the floor, their contents scattered around her on the street. 

"What's your name?"

"Ayesha."

"Ayesha, I am Dimitri. It's nice to meet you. I am going to help you get up, okay? I need to look at your wounds and get them clean."

"No, there is no need. I need to get my things."

She tried to protest, but the man wasn't paying attention to her words. They limped towards his car. He lifted the tailgate of his car up and helped her sit inside. 

"Really, there is no need."

"Your arm is bleeding quite a bit."

Ayesha frowned, turning her arm around and wincing when she saw the blood meandering from her elbow to her wrist. He slipped the strap of her backpack off and set it aside. 

"That doesn't look too good." She murmured, still looking at her bleeding arm. 

"No, it doesn't. Just let me clean you up."

"My bags. Please, my bags." 

Dimitri rushed to pick them up from the road and set them closer to his car. Not wasting any more time, he ripped open a sanitary wipe and gently took her right hand in his. Ayesha stilled herself against the burn while he cleaned the wound, murmuring his apologies once in a while. As the shock of what happened began to subside, Ayesha began to feel the pain ricocheting around her body. 

She wore a white shoulder-split blouse, so a good portion of her shoulder had been scraped when she fell. When Dimitri finished with the scrapes on her forearm, he tore out a fresh wipe and started cleaning the specks of blood on her shoulder. 

He leaned closer, bringing his face closer to her neck as he worked. 

Ayesha took a second to look at him while he worked. The sweatshirt he had on was bunched up to his elbows, exposing his forearms. She stared down at it as Dimitri continued to take care of her scrape. She found him relatively handsome, with his strong jaw and dimple cheeks. The jet-black setting of his hair was a compliment to his ivory skin tone. 

He reached around her to pull some of the hair away from her back. The tips of his fingers scraped over her skin before she felt the cool touch of the wet wipe. His breath fanned across her neck when he exhaled through his mouth. She gasped and tore her thoughts out of the clouds. Sharply turning away to look at anything but Dimitri's face. 

"Sorry." She heard him say and felt his touch fall away. "Did I hurt you? Was that too hard."

"No. No. I-I think I am better now. It's just a few scrapes. I'll be fine."

"Are you sure? Does anything feel broken? Let me get you to the hospital and have a doctor look at you. You might have hurt yourself more than you think."

"There is no need for a hospital." She rushed to add, forgetting herself for a second as she tried to step down from the car. 

"Okay, no hospital." He chuckled when she groaned from pain, and with his arms around her hips, he gently lifted her back up to sit where she was. 

"I'll be fine." She insisted. 

"Sure. If you don't want a hospital, let me drive you to where you are headed."

"No. There is no need."

"Please let me drive you. It's no trouble at all." He urged, helping her step down. With his arm on her shoulder, he steered her towards the passenger side of his car. "It will be my apology for hitting you."

Ayesha managed a smile and a nod. He opened the door and held her arm gently as she climbed in, biting back a moan of discomfort when a shot of pain spread through her leg and arm.

Dimitri picked up her bags from the side of the car and placed them in the back seat. Ayesha took the time to look around. Every surface of the interior was polished to a shine. It smelled like fresh flowers and new leather at the same time. 

The door opened, and he slid into his seat, jutting his chin at her. "Your seat belt."

"Right." 

"Where to?"

"MPL Apartments. Town centre."

He nodded his eyes on the display screen as he reversed. Without directions, he drove Ayesha to the apartment complex where she lived. 

She thanked him as she got down, waiting for him to put her bags down. 

"You are sure you don't want me to help you with the bags?"

"No. There is no need. I live with someone. I'll call him to help me. You have repaid your debt with me."

Dimitri looked up at the buildings and finally stepped back. "Take care of yourself. And once again, I am deeply sorry."

"It's alright. Truly. And thanks for the ride."

She waved at him, and he returned the gesture before sitting in his car. 

Ayesha watched until he drove far away enough. She reached for the bags and picked them up even as her arm protested. The bashful smile remained on her lips. She started walking to the front door. Then, she gasped in shock, spinning quickly to look back at the road he had driven down on. 

Her backpack. She left her backpack in his car.