That night, Abigail fell asleep earlier than usual.
But her sleep was not peaceful.
It felt… heavy.
Like something was pulling her deeper than normal rest.
She stood in a place she didn't recognize.
It wasn't Gao.
It wasn't the house.
It wasn't anywhere she could name.
Everything around her was quiet—too quiet.
No wind. No sound. No time.
Just a strange stillness that made her chest tighten.
Then she felt it.
That familiar presence.
Before she even turned, she already knew.
He was there.
The same man.
The one she couldn't remember clearly.
He stood at a distance, his figure calm and unmoving, like he had been waiting for her the entire time.
The air changed around him.
That same faint spicy-sweet scent filled the space.
Abigail's breath slowed without her understanding why.
"…You again," she whispered, though her voice sounded weak even to her.
He didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he stepped closer.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
Like he had all the time in the world.
Abigail tried to step back—but her body didn't respond the way she wanted.
It felt like the space itself was holding her still.
When he reached her, he stopped just close enough for her to feel his presence fully.
Not touching her completely.
But close enough that her heartbeat became uneven.
"You still don't remember," his voice finally came.
Calm.
Low.
Unshaken.
Abigail frowned slightly.
"Remember what? Who are you?"
Silence.
He lifted his hand—but stopped just before touching her face.
As if waiting.
As if deciding something only he understood.
Then slowly, his fingers brushed her wrist.
A strange warmth spread through her immediately, sharp and confusing.
Her breath caught.
Not fear.
Not pain.
Something she couldn't name.
"Why do I feel like I know you…" she murmured, almost to herself.
That seemed to change something in the air.
The silence deepened.
He leaned slightly closer—not enough to be clear, always just out of reach of her sight, as if the dream itself refused to show her everything.
And then his voice came again, quieter this time.
"You shouldn't be here yet."
Before she could respond—
The world around them began to blur.
Like ink dissolving in water.
Abigail reached out instinctively.
"Wait—!"
But her voice broke apart with the dream.
And everything vanished.
Morning
Abigail woke up suddenly.
Her eyes opened wide as she sat upright, breathing unevenly.
The room was quiet.
Too normal.
Too still.
But her chest wasn't.
Her heartbeat was fast, unsettled—like she had just run a long distance without moving.
She pressed a hand lightly against her chest.
"…What was that dream?"
Her voice was low.
Uncertain.
She tried to remember his face again.
Still nothing.
Only his voice lingered.
Only his presence remained.
And worse—
It felt closer than before.
A knock came at the door.
"Breakfast is ready," Mrs. Wen called from outside.
Abigail quickly composed herself.
"…I'm coming."
She stood up, but paused for a brief second, glancing at her reflection in the mirror.
For just a moment—
It felt like someone else was standing with her.
But when she turned fully—
Nothing.
Only herself.
Downstairs, Mrs. Wen was already setting the table.
"You didn't sleep well," she said suddenly.
It wasn't a question.
Abigail hesitated.
"…How do you know?"
Mrs. Wen didn't answer immediately.
Instead, she placed the bowl down carefully.
"Gao has strange nights," she said simply. "The less you remember, the better."
Abigail frowned slightly.
"That's not comforting."
"It's not meant to be."
Silence followed.
Later that morning, Abigail stepped outside again.
She didn't know why she kept doing it.
But something about the city felt different today.
Like it was watching her more closely than before.
People no longer just avoided her.
Now they noticed her too quickly… then looked away.
Whispers followed her path.
Not loud enough to hear.
But enough to feel.
Abigail slowed her steps slightly.
"…Strange," she murmured under her breath.
The streets of Gao moved normally.
Lively.
Noisy.
Alive.
And yet something about it felt… unfamiliar today.
Not because anything was missing in a visible way.
But because she kept expecting something she couldn't explain.
Her eyes moved across the crowd again.
Nothing.
No scent.
No shift in the air.
No strange silence.
Just Gao.
Ordinary.
And yet somehow… not comforting.
"…Was I imagining it?" she whispered.
She stood there for a moment longer, almost waiting for something she couldn't name.
But nothing changed.
Finally, she let out a small breath and turned away.
"…Forget it."
But as she walked back, she couldn't ignore the strange feeling settling in her chest.
Not fear.
Not relief.
Just… disappointment.
Like something she didn't understand had chosen not to show itself.
Back at the house, Mrs. Wen noticed her sooner than expected.
"You came back early," she said.
Abigail nodded lightly.
"…Nothing happened outside."
Mrs. Wen paused briefly at that.
Then continued placing the dishes down.
"That's not always a bad thing," she said quietly.
But something about her tone didn't match her words.
Abigail didn't respond.
She just sat down.
But even as she did, her thoughts drifted back again.
To the dream.
To the voice.
To the feeling of something she could not see clearly… slowly becoming part of her life.
And for the first time—
She wasn't sure if she wanted answers…
or if she was afraid of getting them too soon.