chapter three
1186 Words
The address led her farther than she expected.
She had walked for nearly forty minutes, following streets she had never noticed before. The busy roads slowly gave way to quieter ones, and eventually, she found herself standing before a wide iron gate surrounded by tall trees.
Beyond it stood a beautiful cream-coloured building with large windows reflecting the afternoon sunlight. Young people moved around the open courtyard, some sitting beneath the trees, others talking in small groups. Music played softly somewhere in the distance, mixed with the sound of laughter.
She looked at the piece of paper again.
Willowmere.
So this was the place.
She took a deep breath and stepped through the gate.
Almost immediately, she felt out of place.
Everyone seemed to know where they were going except her.
She adjusted the strap of her bag and looked around.
“Excuse me?”
Nobody answered.
She tried again, a little louder.
“Please, I'm looking for someone.”
A boy sitting on the steps glanced up.
He looked a little older than her, tall and quiet, with a backpack beside him. He studied her for a moment before looking at the paper in her hand.
“You're lost?”
“No.”
“You look lost.”
“I said I'm not.”
A small smile appeared on his face.
“Okay. Then why are you standing there staring at that paper like it's going to give you directions?”
She folded it quickly.
“I need to find someone.”
“Who?”
She hesitated.
“Meera.”
The boy's expression changed.
Only slightly.
But she noticed.
His smile disappeared.
“Why are you looking for her?”
“I was told to ask about her.”
“By who?”
She looked away.
“I can't tell you.”
“Then I can't help you.”
He stood up.
She watched him pick up his backpack.
“Wait.”
He stopped.
“You know her?”
He didn't answer.
“You do.”
“Knowing someone's name doesn't mean I know where they are.”
“Then tell me where she is.”
He looked at her for a few seconds.
“You shouldn't be here.”
Her heart began beating faster.
“Why?”
He glanced around the courtyard before lowering his voice.
“Because people don't usually come here asking for Meera.”
She swallowed.
“Who does?”
He didn't answer.
Instead, he reached into his backpack and pulled out a small folded piece of paper.
He held it out to her.
“Come back tomorrow.”
She didn't take it immediately.
“Why?”
“Because if you're serious about finding answers, you won't find them standing here.”
She finally took the paper.
“Where am I supposed to go?”
“Tomorrow morning. Seven.”
“Seven where?”
“There's an old bus stop beyond the northern road.”
She stared at him.
“And what happens there?”
He gave her a strange look.
“That depends on whether you're brave enough to show up.”
Before she could respond, he turned to leave.
“Wait!”
He stopped.
She stared at him.
“How do you know anything about this?”
He was silent.
Then he said,
“I don't.”
He walked away.
She frowned.
“That doesn't even make sense.”
He didn't turn around.
She unfolded the paper.
Her eyes moved slowly across the page.
There were only three words.
Bring what you found.
Her fingers tightened around the paper.
She hadn't told him about the object.
She looked up.
The boy had disappeared into the crowd.
And suddenly, the beautiful, peaceful place didn't feel peaceful anymore.
For the rest of the afternoon, nothing happened.
And somehow, that made everything worse.
She stayed at willowmere for a while, sitting beneath a tree and watching people come and go. The boy was nowhere to be seen. After a few minutes, she began to wonder if she had imagined the strange conversation altogether.
Maybe he hadn't known anything.
Maybe she had simply been desperate for answers and had turned a few ordinary words into something more mysterious than they really were.
She reached into her bag.
Her fingers touched the object.
Still there.
She sighed with relief.
By the time she left willowmere, the sun had begun to disappear behind the buildings. She walked home slowly, her thoughts crowded with questions she couldn't answer.
Who was Meera?
Why had the old man sent her there?
How did that boy know about her grandmother?
And why had he told her to bring the object?
She didn't notice the person walking several steps behind her.
Not at first.
It wasn't until she stopped suddenly that she heard another pair of footsteps stop too.
She turned.
Nothing.
Only an empty stretch of road.
She frowned and continued walking.
A few minutes later, she reached the corner near her house. As she adjusted her bag, someone bumped into her shoulder.
“Sorry.”
She barely looked up.
“It's fine.”
She took another step.
Then stopped.
Something felt wrong.
Her hand went immediately to her bag.
The object was gone.
Her heart dropped.
She spun around.
The person who had bumped into her was already halfway down the street.
“Hey!”
They didn't stop.
She ran after them.
“Wait!”
The stranger suddenly broke into a run.
She followed as fast as she could, but the person turned sharply into a narrow alley and disappeared.
She reached the corner seconds later.
Nothing.
No footsteps.
No person.
No sound except her own breathing.
She searched the ground desperately.
Then she saw something near the wall.
A tiny piece of paper.
She picked it up.
There was writing on it.
Not Hindi.
Not English.
Something else.
Her stomach tightened.
She turned the paper over.
Nothing.
Then she noticed a small symbol drawn in the corner.
The same symbol.
The one on the object.
She stood completely still.
Someone hadn't simply stolen the object.
They had known exactly what they were looking for.
She rushed home.
The front door was unlocked.
She stopped before entering.
She distinctly remembered locking it that morning.
Slowly, she pushed the door open.
Everything looked normal.
The furniture was untouched.
Nothing seemed missing.
But on the floor beside the table where she had first found the object was another folded piece of paper.
She picked it up with trembling hands.
There was only one sentence.
You were never supposed to take it to willowmere.
Her face went cold.
She read it again.
Then again.
Someone had been watching her.
Someone knew where she had gone.
And somehow, they knew what she was planning to do tomorrow.
She looked toward the window.
For the briefest moment, she thought she saw a figure standing across the street.
She blinked.
The street was empty.
She looked back at the message.
Tomorrow, she was supposed to meet the boy.
But now she had a much bigger problem.
She no longer knew who she could trust.
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