He stood there, framed by the dripping brick walls, eyes unreadable. My pulse thundered in my ears.
"I told you," he said softly, "I'm not here to kill you. It isn't your time yet." His voice was low, almost kind. "I'm here to help you get where you're going when the time comes."
I swallowed hard. "Help me? What does that even mean?"
He didn't answer. He just stepped backward into the shadows. With each step, the frozen world seemed to ripple. Then he was gone — coat and eyes and stormlight swallowed by the darkness.
The city exhaled. Wind gusted. The car sped away, horns blared, people blinked as if nothing had happened. Only I stood there, shaking, my palms scored with crescents from my own nails.
I wandered out of the alley like a sleepwalker, my feet moving on their own. By the time I reached our street the sky had turned indigo and my body felt hollow.
Mom was still awake, sitting at the kitchen table with a book she wasn't reading. She looked up, relief flooding her face.
"There you are. You're late. I kept dinner warm." She set a bowl of rice and soup in front of me, the steam curling up like a question. "Eat."
I sat down. My hands trembled as I lifted the spoon. The warmth filled the emptiness in my stomach but did nothing for the cold inside me.
Mom reached across the table and brushed my hair back from my face. "About last night…" Her voice wavered. "I shouldn't have snapped. You're my precious daughter. I just…we're under so much pressure. Bryan's still finding his way, and I'm scared. You're the one steady thing we have. That's why I push you to work so hard."
Her words were a balm and a knife at the same time. I opened my mouth to tell her everything — about the diagnosis, the countdown, the man in the alley. But the words shrank back, hiding behind my teeth. If I said it out loud it would become real. And Mom looked so tired.
"I know," I whispered instead. "It's okay."
We finished the meal in silence. She touched my shoulder once before heading to her room.
•
The next morning the house smelled of coffee and steamed eggs. I forced myself to eat with Mom and Bryan, talking lightly about work. She smiled, the lines around her eyes easing.
At lunch break I met Lena at the little café near the newsroom. She had her hair pulled back in a messy bun and was already halfway through an iced latte.
"So," she said, leaning forward. "How's my favorite workaholic?About the fight last night. You okay?"
I speared a piece of sandwich with my fork. "I'm fine. Really. Mom's just…Korean. You know how they are. Overly worried, a little dramatic." I tried to smile.
Lena arched an eyebrow. "And you're literally half Korean. I guess that makes you half dramatic too."
I laughed weakly. "Touché."
She took a sip of her drink. "No seriously, Arya, how are you?"
"I'm good. Just tired." I hesitated, then added, "I saw a…creepy man last night. He saved me from almost getting hit by a car, but it was weird. He said things that didn't make sense."
"Ooooh." Lena's eyes widened. "Creepy hero? Sounds like soulmate material to me."
"Lena, he had the devil's aura. I swear. Like something out of a nightmare."
She giggled. "Ever watched My Demon? The main girl falls for an actual demon. So, Mr. Anonymous could be your demon. Just embrace him."
I groaned. "You seriously think everything is a K-drama."
"You should watch more K-dramas, girl. They'd prepare you. I mean, you're literally half Korean."
I rolled my eyes but smiled despite myself. The warmth of the café and Lena's teasing felt like a lifeline back to normalcy, even if only for a lunch break.
She reached across the table and squeezed my hand. "Just…be careful, okay? Whatever that was."
I nodded, but my mind drifted back to the alley, the frozen world, and the man's eyes like a storm about to break.