The note sat on Ritta's kitchen table like a piece of evidence that refused to be ignored.
She stared at it for a long time, her fingers tracing the clean edges of the paper.
The words STOP LOOKING felt like a command, like a threat, like a warning—something that was meant to protect her, but also something that proved she was already in danger.
She didn't know who had sent it.
She didn't know why.
And she didn't know what to do.
She wanted to tell her aunt. She wanted to run to her and beg her to explain everything.
She wanted to demand answers, to force the truth out of her.
But she didn't, because she had learned that questions were dangerous.
Because she had learned that sometimes the truth hurt more than the fear.
Because she didn't want to know the darkness that lived behind her aunt's calm face.
Instead, she folded the note and slipped it into her drawer, where she kept all the small things she didn't want to think about.
Then she sat down at her table and tried to breathe.
She tried to calm herself.
But her mind kept returning to the man in black.
She kept imagining his eyes.
She kept imagining his smile.
She kept imagining the way he had looked at her, like she was something he had claimed.
Like she was something he owned.
She hated the thought.
She hated the way her body reacted to it.
She hated the way her fear had turned into something else—something she didn't understand.
Something that made her feel… alive.
........
Later that afternoon, Aunt Mireya returned home.
Ritta had been waiting, trying to keep her face calm, trying to pretend everything was normal.
But when Mireya saw her, she immediately noticed the tension in her body.
Her eyes narrowed.
"What happened?" she asked.
Ritta hesitated.
She didn't want to tell her aunt about the note. She didn't want to tell her aunt about the man. She didn't want to ask questions.
She didn't want to be the kind of girl who brought trouble into the house.
But she also couldn't keep pretending.
She took a deep breath.
"I got a note," she said quietly. "Someone warned me."
Mireya's face tightened.
"What did it say?" she asked.
Ritta reached into her drawer and pulled out the folded paper.
She handed it to her aunt.
Mireya unfolded it slowly, her eyes scanning the words.
Her face went pale.
She folded the note back and held it tightly in her hand.
Ritta watched her, her heart pounding.
"What does it mean?" she asked.
Mireya didn't answer immediately.
Instead, she looked at Ritta with an expression that was almost… tired.
"It means you're in danger," she said finally.
Ritta's throat tightened.
"I know," she whispered.
Mireya sighed and sat down at the table.
She looked at Ritta for a long moment, as if she was trying to decide what to say.
Then she spoke.
"You need to stop looking," she said softly.
Ritta's eyes widened.
"That's what the note said," she replied.
Mireya nodded.
"Good," she said. "Then you understand."
Ritta's heart sank.
"What do you mean?" she asked.
Mireya's gaze dropped.
She looked away.
And then she said the words that made Ritta's blood run cold:
"Someone has been watching you for a long time."
........
The next day, Ritta returned to the café, trying to pretend that everything was normal.
She tried to act like she wasn't being hunted.
She tried to act like she wasn't being watched.
But the truth was, she couldn't stop thinking about the man in black.
She couldn't stop thinking about his eyes.
She couldn't stop thinking about his voice.
She couldn't stop thinking about the way he had said her name.
It was like he had been claiming her.
Like he had been telling her that she belonged to him.
And she hated the feeling.
She hated the way her body responded.
She hated the way her fear had started to turn into something else.
It was during the afternoon rush that he appeared again.
Ritta saw him from the corner of her eye, standing near the entrance.
Her heart froze.
She felt her breath catch.
She wanted to run.
She wanted to hide.
But she didn't.
She stayed.
She kept working.
She kept smiling.
She kept pretending.
The man walked toward the counter, and this time, he didn't order coffee.
He didn't speak to anyone.
He simply stood there, looking at her.
He looked at her with the same intensity as before.
Ritta felt her skin go cold.
She could feel his eyes on her like a physical touch.
She wanted to tell him to leave.
She wanted to tell him to go away.
But she didn't.
He moved closer.
He stopped right in front of her.
His gaze was sharp.
His expression unreadable.
Then he spoke, his voice low and steady.
"You don't have to be afraid," he said.
Ritta's heart raced.
"Why should I believe you?" she asked, her voice shaking.
He smiled, but it wasn't kind.
"It's not about believing me," he said. "It's about understanding that I'm not the one you should be afraid of."
Ritta's stomach twisted.
"What do you mean?" she whispered.
He leaned closer, his face almost touching hers.
His breath brushed her cheek.
"You should be afraid of the people who want you to stay quiet," he said.
Ritta's eyes widened.
She didn't understand.
She didn't know what he meant.
She only knew that his words had struck something inside her.
Something that made her feel like the world was larger than she had believed.
Something that made her realize that she had been living in a cage.
And someone had been holding the key.
Ritta stared at him, her heart pounding.
"Who are you?" she asked.
He looked at her for a long moment, and then he finally answered.
"I'm the one who's going to make you understand," he said.
Then he turned and walked away, leaving her standing behind the counter, trembling.