Chapter Five

The Stranger's Eyes

Dew still clung to the car, beads of silver lining its frame. Morning air curled with a creeping fog, soft and slow, as if the world itself hadn’t quite woken up yet. The distant chirp of birds played like a soft soundtrack as I unloaded the last of our luggage and hauled it towards the porch. 

I wasn’t ready to face another day-especially not with these new panic attacks crashing into me like rogue waves. Anxiety and stress had never held much sway over me before. But lately, something has shifted. Everything around me just felt off. Like I was walking through a dream that I couldn’t quite shake. 

I set the final bag down and paused, a deep breath. The air was cold and damp, the fog pressing close to my skin. The eerie stillness of the morning settled over me like a second coat. You’ve made it through worse Saxa, just breathe. Push through. 

I turned towards the front door just as Gran stepped out. 

“Saxa,” she called, “The moving company called…apparently, they’ve lost our things.”

I blinked. “What? How? How do you lose a whole shipment?”

“It happens sometimes honey,” she said with a tired shrug. “That’s why I insured everything and kept a catalog. They’re going to do an investigation and then reimburse us, so we’ll go out today and buy the necessities. No use in crying over it.”

“Gran,” I snapped, “how the hell are you so calm right now? That was everything we owned.”

Her face softened, “ I know sweetheart. But we brought the most important things with us. Everything else is just… stuff. It’s replaceable. But could you run back to the car and grab my last bag from the boot?”

I grumbled under my breath and made my way back to the car. The trunk was like a black hole—i had to practically crawl inside to reach the last bag. 

“Need a hand?”

I jumped so hard I smacked my head on the trunk. “Jesus Christ."

When I turned, a girl stood there, smiling awkwardly. 

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you. I live a few houses down—my brother's house is right next door. I’m Ingrid.”

I blinked at her, still reeling. “Oh, uh I’m saxa.”

“I made some co—oh!” Gran’s voice floated down the driveway. “Who’s this?”

“Gran, this is Ingrid. She lives a few houses down.”

“Well, lovely to meet you,” Gran said, stepping closer. “Do you want some coffee? Hot chocolate? Tea?”

“Oh, I’m okay,” Ingrid said with a giggle. “I was just asking if Saxa needed a hand.”

“I think I’ve got it, but thank you though.” I replied, trying to smile. She seemed nice enough—but something about this town, this place, made me wary. 

“I really don't mind,” she said with a shrug. “Besides, my parents have like a bazillion people over and I’d rather avoid the whole interrogation scene.”

I laughed, despite myself. “Ah, classic.”

“You know old people—nosy and relentless.” She grinned, then reached into the trunk and effortlessly pulled out the bag I’d nearly climbed in to get. Well, maybe I did need help.

As we started walking up the drive, a cluster of voices drifted over from the yard next door. I turned–and stopped dead in my tracks.

Five men stood across the lawn, talking. But one of them…

As soon as our eyes met, the world around me fell silent. The air left my lungs, the bag slipped from my fingers crashing to the pavement. 

A searing heat bloomed across my skin, electric and sharp, locking my voice in my throat. My chest tightened, I couldn't move. 

Only when his gaze shifted away did I finally draw a breath.

trembling , I dropped to my knees to gather what had spilled out of the bag. A framed photo of my parents had slipped out–its glass shattered into jagged lines like spiderwebs. I stared at it, frozen. Each shard seemed to cut deeper into my heart, fractured and unreachable.

As I gathered the pieces with trembling hands, a pair of dark leather boots appeared in front of me. 

“Eirik,” Ingrid hissed behind me. 

I looked up. The gasp left my mouth before I could stop it.

He was right there. His eyes—such a deep green and unblinking—locked with mine. For a moment, nothing else existed. The driveway, the fog, the broken frame—all faded. Time didn’t pass, it hung. 

His presence was magnetic, overwhelming. I knew I'd never seen him before, and yet…

Somewhere, deep inside me, a part of me stirred. Recognized him, feared him.

Ingrid’s voice became a distant hum, barely audible under the thrumming of my heart. Neither of us moved. We were suspended—hled in place by something unseen, ancient, unspoken. I wanted nothing more than to wrap my fingers around each strand of his dark hair.

Then Gran’s voice pierced through it all like thunder. “Saxa, what is going on here?”

The moment shattered. I blinked and realized I was still on my knees, the contents of Gran’s bag scattered at his feet. I scrambled to pick them up, my fingers unsteady. Eirik—if that was his name—hadn’t moved, but I could still feel his gaze burning into me. 

Gran stepped forward, scooping the last items from my arms and guiding me toward the house. Her voice was gentle but firm, “Come inside dear. We’ll take care of everything later. Ingrid, You are more than welcome to join us.”

I followed her, but my whole body was willing me to go back out front—still caught in the ghost of Eirik’s eyes. The weight of his stare lingered on my back like a mark. 

And though I couldn’t bring myself to turn around, I knew—he was still watching.