The smell of freshly baked bread always felt like home. Warm, comforting, familiar. I leaned over the counter, brushing flour from my hands as my grandmother slid another tray of golden rolls out of the oven. Morning light spilled through the bakery windows, turning the dust particles into tiny, floating stars.
"This batch looks perfect," Grandma said proudly, though she always said that, even when the tops burned a little.
I smiled, shaking my head. "That's because you made them."
Her lips curved into a knowing smirk. "And you kneaded the dough. Don't think I didn't notice your arm strength improving. Maybe you won't need me here forever."
"Don't say things like that," I whispered, glancing at her. My chest tightened the way it always did when she talked about not being around. Grandma was my rock, the only anchor I had left. Without her and Grandpa, I wouldn't have survived after Mom and Dad's… accident.
Grandpa's voice echoed from the back, rough but cheerful. "Stop coddling her, old woman. Aria's tougher than you think."
I rolled my eyes but laughed. This was my world, cozy, predictable, safe. Flour on my apron, sugar on my fingertips, the quiet hum of customers drifting in and out all day. It wasn't glamorous, but it was mine.
And yet, sometimes, when I caught my reflection in the bakery window, I felt like there was more waiting for me out there, something pressing at the edges of my soul, whispering that my life wasn't meant to stay this simple.
By the time evening rolled around, the bakery smelled faintly of cinnamon and yeast, and I was exhausted. My best friend, Lila, however, was relentless.
"Come on, Aria, you promised!" she whined, tugging at my sleeve as I tried to lock up the bakery. "One night. One party. That's all I'm asking."
I sighed, brushing a stray lock of hair from my face. "Lila, you know I don't do parties. Loud music, drunk people spilling drinks.."
"Hot guys," she interrupted with a mischievous grin. "Don't forget the hot guys."
I swatted her arm, but laughter slipped out of me anyway. Lila always knew how to chip away at my walls.
"Fine," I gave in reluctantly. "But just for a little while."
The party was already in full swing by the time we arrived. Music pulsed through the air, the bass thumping in my chest as colorful lights flashed over the crowd. Lila disappeared into the throng almost instantly, leaving me by the door with a plastic cup of something too sweet and too fizzy.
I leaned against the wall, watching people dance and laugh. For a moment, I let myself pretend I belonged here, just another ordinary girl, surrounded by ordinary people. No shadows in my past, no questions about where I came from, no emptiness I couldn't name.
"Aria…"
The voice was so soft, so close, I thought I imagined it. My head snapped up, scanning the crowd.
And then I saw a figure.
A figure draped in black stood near the far end of the room, almost blending into the shadows. His presence was wrong, sharp edges in a place full of blurred lines. No one else seemed to notice him, but his eyes were locked on me.
Suddenly everything stopped, like a pause, it was on hold.
My stomach twisted.
He moved closer, slipping through the dancers as though they weren't even there. By the time I thought about running, he was already in front of me, so near I could see the pale curve of his jaw beneath his hood.
"Get ready," he said, his voice low, urgent. "It will soon be time for you to go."
My heart stuttered. "What… what are you talking about? Who are you?"
His lips curved into something that wasn't quite a smile. "You'll understand soon. The blood doesn't lie."
"What blood?" My words trembled, too loud, but the music swallowed them whole.
I blinked, and he was gone.
Just… gone.
And everything started to move again.
The space where he stood was empty, the crowd undisturbed, as though I had imagined the whole thing. My breath came in sharp bursts, panic clawing at my chest.
No. I hadn't imagined it. I could still feel the weight of his presence pressing down on me, heavy and cold.
"Aria!" Lila reappeared, her cheeks flushed from dancing. She took one look at me and frowned. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
I swallowed hard, forcing a shaky smile. "Maybe I have."
But inside, terror curled in my stomach like a living thing.
Because for the first time in my life, I wasn't sure if I was safe anymore.
And deep down, I knew, whatever that man meant, whatever he saw in me, it was only the beginning.