She adjusted her grip on her bag. Inside were only her tablet, a notebook, and some cash. It was a one-day trip—she hadn’t packed much, just one change of clothes for the meeting.
Suddenly, Sasha groaned and pressed a hand to her stomach, scanning the street. “Do you want to grab breakfast? I’m starving.”
Mia blinked. “You didn’t eat at the hotel?”
“Breakfast?” Sasha frowned. “This hotel doesn’t provide breakfast.”
Mia stopped walking.
Her mind flickered back to the morning—to the knock on her door, the hotel staff wheeling in a tray loaded with food. Too much food.
Did they deliver it to the wrong room?
Or…
Alexander?
No. Impossible.
He wasn’t even in the same city.
Mia shook her head slightly, forcing the thought away. She turned back to Sasha, masking her confusion.
“No,” she said softly. “I’m not hungry.”
Her stomach was so full that she wouldn’t be able to eat another bite even if she tried.
“I’m literally dying,” Sasha groaned again, clutching her stomach dramatically. She slipped her bag off her shoulder and, without warning, shoved it into Mia’s arms. Before Mia could react, the laptop bag followed—then a thick file slapped on top of it.
“Just take this,” Sasha said quickly. “Go to the location first and get everything set up. I’ll grab breakfast and meet you there.”
Mia’s hands shot out instinctively, fingers scrambling as the sudden weight tipped her off balance. Files slid against her wrist, the laptop bag knocked her hip, and her own bag dug into her shoulder.
“Sa—” she tried, but the word barely left her mouth.
Sasha was already jogging away, heels clicking as she disappeared down the street toward the nearest café, waving once over her shoulder without slowing.
Mia stood there alone, arms overloaded, sunlight pouring down on her. She let out a small, helpless sigh.
She tilted her head back and squinted at the sky. The sun was already harsh, heat pressing against her skin. Sweat gathered along her hairline as she awkwardly shifted the bags, tightening the strap cutting into her shoulder and readjusting the files slipping in her grip.
After a moment of struggle, she fished her phone out with her elbow and checked the map. The location wasn’t far.
She started walking, following the directions—one street, then another, then a third.
And slowly, the surroundings changed.
The tall glass buildings vanished. Clean sidewalks cracked and narrowed. Bright storefronts faded into dim streets lined with small, worn houses—peeling paint, broken windows, trash piled in corners. The air felt heavier. Quieter.
Too quiet.
A shiver slid down her spine.
Mia swallowed and picked up her pace, her heart beginning to thump harder. She kept her eyes forward, telling herself not to panic, not to imagine things—
Footsteps.
Behind her.
