She never saw his face that night.
Just the shape of a man standing at the far end of the hospital hallway unmoving, watching.
Raina was twenty-four, still naive enough to believe that silence always meant harmlessness.
She looked away, convinced he was waiting for someone else.
But he stayed there.
Not shifting.
Not breathing loudly.
Just observing her like she was an unfamiliar puzzle he already knew how to solve.
When she finally took a step forward to pass him, he turned his head slightly… enough for her to feel his eyes slide over her like a blade.
No words.
No touch.
Just… recognition.
As if he already knew her story.
As if he already owned her future.
And in that exact moment an instinct inside her whispered:
Run.
But she didn't.
She walked past him.
She lived her life.
She married.
She divorced.
And she convinced herself that night was nothing but imagination.
She never knew it wasn't.
Because while she forgot that moment
he never did.