Chapter 1: The Last Normal Day

Every step felt like fire. It was like someone was hitting my feet with a hammer, right through my old sneakers.

The elevator in our building has been broken for weeks now. So climbing five floors of stairs is just my life. I struggled with my keys, my hands hurt from carrying heavy grocery bags. When will I ever catch a break? I thought.

I could hear music blasting through our door before I even opened it. Some happy pop song. I pushed the door open with my shoulder.

"Sloane, I swear, if you don't turn that down, Mrs. Gable downstairs is gonna call the police again!" I yelled. I dropped the bags on our small counter with a thud. She's always going to get us in trouble, I mumbled to myself.

The music stopped right in the middle of the song. My roommate appeared in her bedroom door. She was wearing a big pink robe, with a green face mask on. "She likes me! She just doesn't know it yet. This is my weekly dance party. It's for my mental health, El. You should try it."

"I don't have time for that," I said, starting to put the groceries away. "My mental health is not getting kicked out of here." The food wasn't much: one small chicken, the cheapest kind. A bag of rice that was mostly crumbs. Some sad looking spinach on sale. A few eggs. The money from my long waitress shift doesn't go far.

Sloane walked over and looked into the bags. "Wow. A real feast. It's giving me 'great depression' vibes."

"Hey, it's got protein, carbs, and veggies. It's healthy," I said. I opened the squeaky kitchen cabinet. We were almost out of rice. This new bag had to last.

"It's sad, is what it is," Sloane said, leaning on the counter. "You work two jobs, El. You should be able to buy a steak. Or at least a pizza that won't make us sick."

"The steak money went to Mrs. Henderson last week," I said quietly. She runs the Havencrest orphanage. She said the kids needed new crayons and paper.

The money from the state is always late. I gave her forty dollars. It meant we ate rice and eggs for two weeks, but seeing the kids smile with new supplies… that was worth it.

Sloane's face got softer. "You're too nice, you know that? The world doesn't reward nice people. It just uses them."

"Not everyone is like that," I said, but even I didn't really believe it. I was just so tired. My back hurt from carrying heavy trays all day and smiling at customers who acted like I wasn't even there.

"Speaking of the world using people," Sloane said, her voice getting that gossipy sound. She opened the fridge and grabbed two off brand sodas, handing me one. The cold felt great on my sore hands. "Did you feel it today?"

"Feel what? The deep sadness of my empty wallet?"

"No, silly. The eyes." She took a drink, leaving a little green mark on the can. "Your secret watcher. I'm serious, when I was walking home from school, I got this super creepy feeling on my neck. Like someone was watching me from a car. A really fancy black car. Dark windows. Very spy movie."

I sighed and opened my soda. "Sloane," I said, rolling my tired eyes. "We live in a big city. People look at people. Sometimes from nice cars."

"This was different!" she insisted. "It's been happening for a while now. Remember the flowers?"

Three perfect white roses. Tied with a black ribbon. They were on our doorstep two months ago. No note.

Sloane thought it was a secret admirer. It just made me feel cold and scared. Who knew where we lived? Who sends something so pretty but doesn't say who they are?

"Probably Mr. Chen from the flower shop downstairs. He feels sorry for me," I joked, trying to make it less scary.

"Mr. Chen sells old, dying flowers, not roses that look more expensive than our rent," Sloane said. "I'm telling you, Elara. Someone is watching you. It's exciting!"

"It's not exciting, it's scary," I said, my voice sharper than I meant it to be. "Exciting is... I don't know, a guy from my class asking to borrow a pen. Not some stranger sending no name gifts and watching you from a car." A chill went down my back, and it wasn't from the cold drink.

"Okay, fine, scary," Sloane gave in, seeing my face. "But still mysterious. So, what's the plan tomorrow for the angel of the orphanage?"

I smiled a little. "Havencrest. It's Saturday. Art day. I have the new folder." I pointed to the old, colorful folder on the counter. It had print outs of easy animal pictures for the little kids and harder city drawings for the older ones. Using the library printer is my one treat.

"You're going to be such a cool mom one day," Sloane said, smiling. "The kind who actually does crafts instead of buying the box from the store."

"A mom? I can't even afford a pet fish," I laughed, The dream the quiet one I keep hidden in my heart is just a dream. A home. A family. A normal, safe, boring life.

The application for a teaching course at the community college is still on my nightstand, half finished. The cost alone is impossible.

We cooked the chicken and rice mostly in silence. Sloane talked about some guy in her class. I listened a little, but my mind was already at Havencrest, in the noisy, happy art room.

Later, after we ate and washed our two plates and two forks, I sat on my bed. My room is only big enough for the bed, a dresser, and a desk covered in books. I opened the folder and looked at the drawings. A happy sun. A silly dog. A simple tree.

Sloane peeked her head in, her face clean now. "Hey. You okay?"

"Yeah. Just tired."

"Don't stay up too late dreaming about your secret man," she teased."He's not my secret man," I said.

"Sure, sure. Goodnight, El."

"Night, Sloane."

She closed the door. The apartment got very quiet. I got up to close my blinds, like I always do. My fingers touched the cheap plastic slats, and I happened to look down into the alley behind our building.

A smooth black car was sitting there. Its windows were completely dark. That's weird. It wasn't there when I got home. I looked closer. It was just... sitting there. The engine was on. No one got in or out.

My breath got stuck. That creepy feeling Sloane talked about rushed over me. I froze, my hand still on the blind. Part of me wanted to drop to the floor and hide. But I didn't.

I kept watching. The back window on my side started to go down. Just a little.

Then, from that small dark opening, the bright tip of a cigarette lit up. That's when I knew. Someone was in there. Someone was watching me back.

Then the window went back up, making the car a solid black shell. It drove away slowly.

I stood there, my heart beating so fast and hard I thought it would break my ribs. A cold shiver ran up my back.

What just happened?

And who was that?