The Warning
1218 Words
Chapter Five
The Warning
Lidya did not sleep.
By two in the morning, the rain had stopped, but the city outside her apartment was still wet and shining. Water clung to the window glass in tiny beads, reflecting the red and white lights of passing cars.
She sat on the edge of her bed with her phone in her hand.
The messages were still there.
Lidya had taken screenshots of everything.
She felt foolish.
There was probably an explanation.
Someone playing a cruel joke.
Someone who had mistaken her for another person.
Someone from the orphanage.
But the words had unsettled something inside her that she had spent years keeping buried.
Her parents.
She had always avoided the subject.
When she was younger, the other children at the orphanage had asked questions.
"Do you remember your mother?"
"No."
"What about your father?"
"No."
"Do you have brothers or sisters?"
"I don't know."
Eventually, she stopped answering.
Lidya opened her laptop.
She searched the orphanage.
Old photographs appeared.
A church website.
Then she searched:
Lidya Kidus Michael Ethiopia
There were several people with the same name.
Nothing about her.
She leaned back.
"Stop," she whispered to herself.
She closed the laptop.
Tomorrow she had work.
Tomorrow she had to act normal.
She turned off the lamp.
Ten minutes later, she was still awake.
Her mind kept returning to the same sentence.
First, find out why you were left.
She rolled over and closed her eyes.
Eventually, exhaustion pulled her into a restless sleep.
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The next morning, Toronto woke beneath a pale grey sky.
Lidya stood in front of her bathroom mirror, tying her hair into a neat ponytail.
She looked tired.
There were faint shadows beneath her eyes.
She splashed cold water on her face and stared at herself.
"You are fine," she whispered.
She said it again.
"You are fine."
Her phone buzzed on the counter.
Lidya froze.
For a second, she thought about the messages.
But it was Hanna.
Don't forget tonight!
Lidya smiled.
She typed:
I won't.
Another message arrived almost immediately.
And don't wear boring clothes.
Lidya laughed.
I make no promises.
She put her phone away.
For the rest of the morning, she tried not to think about the stranger.
It wasn't easy.
At work, she found herself rereading the same paragraph several times.
During lunch, she caught herself staring at her phone.
Nothing.
No strange numbers.
No messages.
By four o'clock, she had almost convinced herself that the whole thing had been a bizarre coincidence.
Then she remembered the second number.
And the third.
Different numbers.
Different messages.
Whoever was contacting her wasn't making a mistake.
But why her?
And why now?
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That evening, Lidya changed before meeting Hanna.
She stood in front of her closet for several minutes before choosing a simple black dress and a cream-coloured coat.
She was applying lipstick when her phone vibrated.
Her hand stopped.
She looked at the screen.
Another unfamiliar number.
Her stomach tightened.
She opened the message.
There were only four words.
Don't take the subway.
Lidya frowned.
She looked at the time.
6:42 p.m.
She was supposed to meet Hanna downtown.
She typed:
Why?
No response.
She waited.
Nothing.
She typed again.
Who are you?
The message showed as delivered.
Still nothing.
Lidya stared at the screen.
She almost laughed.
"Seriously?"
She grabbed her purse.
She had no intention of changing her plans because of an anonymous text message.
She left her apartment.
Outside, the evening air was cold and damp.
She walked toward the subway station.
Then she stopped.
For a moment, she thought about the message.
Don't take the subway.
It was ridiculous.
She had taken the same subway countless times.
Still, something made her hesitate.
She looked across the street.
A bus was approaching.
Lidya sighed.
"Fine."
She crossed the street and got on the bus instead.
She found a seat near the back and looked out the window.
Five minutes later, her phone buzzed.
Hanna.
Where are you?
Lidya smiled.
On the bus.
Why? I thought you were taking the subway.
Lidya hesitated.
She didn't want to tell her about the strange messages.
Changed my mind.
Hanna replied with a laughing emoji.
Lidya put the phone away.
She had almost forgotten about the warning when she heard a siren.
Then another.
The bus slowed.
People turned toward the windows.
Ahead, several police cars had blocked the entrance to the subway station she had planned to use.
A crowd had gathered behind the barriers.
Lidya leaned toward the glass.
She couldn't see what had happened.
Her phone vibrated again.
The same unfamiliar number.
She opened the message.
You made the right choice.
Lidya's heart began to pound.
She immediately typed:
What happened?
No answer.
She called.
The number was unavailable.
She tried again.
Nothing.
Lidya lowered the phone slowly.
For the first time, she wasn't thinking about her parents.
She wasn't thinking about St. Michael's.
She wasn't even thinking about the mysterious person knowing her past.
She was thinking about something much more frightening.
Someone knew where she was going.
And someone had been watching closely enough to know she was about to take the subway.
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Across the city, a man sat alone in a quiet office.
A newspaper lay open on the desk.
His eyes remained on a photograph printed in the corner of the page.
He picked up his phone.
For a moment, his thumb rested over the screen.
He looked at another photograph beside him.
A much older photograph.
A young woman smiling.
A little girl who looked nothing like the woman she would become.
He put the photograph face down.
Then he deleted the number he had just used.
He leaned back in his chair.
He had promised himself he would never interfere unless he absolutely had to.
Tonight, he had broken that promise.
But the thought of something happening to her had been unbearable.
He closed his eyes.
"Be careful," he whispered.
Then he opened a notebook.
On the first page, written in his own handwriting, were three words:
Lidya Kidus Michael — 1995
Below them were dozens of unanswered questions.
He turned the page.
And began writing.
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Lidya arrived at the event twenty minutes late.
Hanna was waiting near the entrance.
"You disappeared," she said.
"I took the bus."
"Why?"
Lidya looked back toward the street.
"I don't know."
She almost told her.
About the message.
About the subway.
About the police cars.
But something stopped her.
She wasn't ready to say it out loud.
Not yet.
Hanna touched her arm.
"Are you okay?"
Lidya forced a smile.
"I'm fine."
Inside, music played softly while people moved between tables.
Lidya took a deep breath.
She had come here to enjoy an evening with her friend.
Nothing more.
She wasn't going to let a stranger ruin it.
But as she walked inside, she felt a strange sensation that she couldn't explain.
Someone was watching her.
She turned.
The crowd behind her was filled with unfamiliar faces.
No one stood out.
No one was looking at her.
Lidya turned back.
She didn't see the man standing across the street.
He watched until she disappeared inside.
Then he quietly walked away.
He had no intention of letting her know he was there.
Not yet.
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