By the time Elias told his friends about her, he was already lying to himself.
Not about her existence. That part was undeniable. She was real in the way chipped mugs and crowded platforms were real. In the way repetition turned coincidence into something heavier.
What he lied about was the reason he talked about her at all.
They were sitting in Jonah's apartment, a place that smelled permanently of instant noodles and old books. The windows were open despite the humidity, the ceiling fan clicking rhythmically like it was counting something only it understood.
Jonah was stretched across the couch, scrolling through his phone. Amir sat on the floor, back against the coffee table, dismantling a takeout container with surgical focus.
Elias sat in the armchair he'd claimed years ago, posture careful, as if his body were something he had borrowed and needed to return in decent condition.
"So," Jonah said without looking up, "you've been weirdly quiet tonight. Which usually means you're about to say something strange."
Elias smiled faintly. "That's reassuring."
"Just saying. Last time you went quiet like this, you shaved your head at two in the morning."
"It was practical," Elias said. "Hair gets in the way."
Amir snorted. "Of what? Existing?"
Elias hesitated. He hadn't planned how to begin. He hadn't planned to begin at all. The words had simply been pressing against him for days, building pressure.
"There's someone," he said finally.
Jonah's head snapped up. Amir froze mid-peel.
There was a pause, thick with disbelief.
"Wait," Jonah said slowly. "Someone as in… someone someone?"
Elias shrugged. "I don't know her."
Amir blinked. "That's not how that sentence is supposed to go."
"I mean, I don't know her name. Or anything like that."
Jonah sat up. "Elias. Buddy. You can't open with 'there's someone' and then immediately undercut it."
Elias watched the fan spin. One, two, three. He inhaled carefully.
"I keep seeing her," he said. "Around. Different places."
Amir raised an eyebrow. "Okay. That could still be normal. Maybe."
"How different?" Jonah asked.
"Cafés. Trains. Streets. Sometimes near hospitals."
That last word slipped out before Elias could stop it.
Jonah noticed. He always did.
"Near hospitals?" he repeated. "Why there?"
Elias shrugged again, too quickly. "Coincidence."
Amir leaned back, studying him. "You're counting, aren't you?"
Elias closed his eyes for a second.
Jonah groaned. "Of course he's counting."
"It's not like that," Elias said. "Not exactly."
"How many?" Amir asked.
Elias opened his eyes. "Thirty-four."
Silence.
Jonah laughed, a sharp sound. "Thirty-four what? Encounters? Sightings? Parallel universe overlaps?"
"Encounters," Elias said quietly.
Amir shook his head slowly. "Man. That's not romantic. That's… statistical."
Elias felt a familiar tightening in his chest, the defensive reflex rising. "It's not obsession."
Jonah pointed at him. "You just said thirty-four without checking anything. That's obsession-adjacent."
Elias didn't argue. He looked down at his hands instead. The faint tremor was there again, barely perceptible unless you knew to look for it.
"She doesn't know me," he said. "But she's kind. I can tell."
Amir sighed. "You don't know that."
"I do," Elias said, more firmly. "She apologizes when people bump into her. She listens when others talk. She gives up her seat even when she looks exhausted."
Jonah softened a little. "Okay. So you've built a character profile."
"I'm observant," Elias said.
"You're lonely," Amir corrected gently.
That landed harder than Elias expected.
He laughed once, quietly. "Maybe."
Jonah leaned back into the couch. "So what's the plan? You're not usually the 'pine silently from afar' type."
Elias hesitated.
"There's a number," he said.
Jonah rolled his eyes. "Of course there is."
"One hundred," Elias continued. "If I see her a hundred times… then I'll talk to her."
Amir stared at him. "Why a hundred?"
Elias thought of the notebook. Of the way numbers lined up neatly when everything else refused to.
"Because it feels complete," he said. "Because it's enough chances for fate to object if it wants to."
Jonah rubbed his face. "Elias, that's insane."
"Maybe," Elias said. "But it's harmless."
"Is it?" Amir asked.
Elias met his gaze. Amir always asked the uncomfortable questions, the ones that lingered.
"She's not being hurt," Elias said. "I'm not interfering. I'm just… noticing."
Jonah sighed. "You know what this sounds like, right?"
"Yes," Elias said. "But it's not that."
There was another silence. Outside, someone laughed. A car horn blared. Life continued, unapologetic.
Amir spoke more softly. "You're running out of time, aren't you?"
The fan clicked.
Elias didn't answer immediately.
Jonah's expression shifted, the humor draining from it. "Hey. No. Don't do that thing where you go quiet and pretend we didn't ask."
Elias swallowed. "I don't know how much," he said. "But yes."
Amir nodded slowly, like he'd been expecting it.
Jonah looked stricken. "And this… this hundred-times thing. This is about that."
Elias exhaled. "I just want something to finish," he said. "Something that isn't interrupted."
Jonah stood and crossed the room, crouching in front of him. "You could just talk to her now."
Elias shook his head. "If I talk to her now, it's a gamble. If I wait, it feels earned."
"Earned by who?" Amir asked.
"By me," Elias said. "By time."
Jonah sighed. "Time doesn't negotiate, Eli."
Elias smiled faintly. "I know."
Encounter Thirty-Five happened the next morning.
Hospital lobby.
He hadn't meant to be there so early. His appointment wasn't until ten, but sleep had been shallow and uncooperative. The lobby smelled of antiseptic and coffee that had been sitting too long on a heating plate.
He was seated near the windows, watching light crawl slowly across the floor, when she walked in.
She looked different here. More composed. Her hair pulled back tightly now. Her steps purposeful. She wore scrubs beneath a jacket, the hospital logo embroidered near the collar.
So it wasn't just near hospitals.
She worked here.
The realization settled heavily in him.
She stopped at the information desk, speaking quietly to the receptionist. Elias couldn't hear the words, only the cadence. Calm. Respectful. Familiar.
She smiled, briefly.
Something in his chest loosened and tightened at the same time.
She turned.
For a moment, he was certain she would see him. The distance was small. The angle perfect.
Then a man stepped between them, asking for directions, and the moment slipped away like it always did.
She walked past him without looking.
Elias closed his eyes.
Encounter Thirty-Five. Hospital lobby. She belongs here.
He didn't know yet what that would come to mean.