Chapter 3
524 Words
The silence settled thick between them, broken only by the occasional crackle of the fire and the soft clink of her mug against the table. Evelyn wrapped the blanket tighter around her shoulders, eyes flicking between the dancing flames and the man seated just a few feet away.
Jacob sat on a stool near the counter, elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped. He looked like he had something to say, but kept swallowing it down. She was grateful for that. Words felt too heavy right now.
She took another sip. Whatever was in the mug, it was doing its job. Her fingers still trembled, but less now. The warmth had reached her chest. It made her feel… real again.
Outside, the wind howled, and snow slammed against the windows like fists.
“We can’t leave till morning,” he finally said, voice low, not looking at her.
“I figured,” she replied, equally quiet.
Another pause.
Jacob cleared his throat. “You’re not from around here.”
She let out a small breath—almost a laugh. “You don’t say.”
Their eyes met, briefly. Then both looked away at the same time.
Awkward.
The silence between them lingered, stretched taut by everything unspoken. The storm outside raged on, wind whipping against the walls, but inside the bakery, time felt suspended.
Evelyn sat curled in the blanket, fingers wrapped around the now half-empty mug. Jacob remained near the counter, stealing glances at her when he thought she wasn’t looking.
Neither spoke. Not really. But somehow, the quiet didn’t feel hostile—just uncertain.
She shifted in her seat, her legs tucked beneath her, the hem of her damp dress already drying near the fire.
“This place,” she said quietly, “it feels like a dream. Like I blinked and stepped into something that shouldn’t exist.”
Jacob tilted his head slightly, intrigued. “Does it scare you?”
“A little,” she admitted. “But more than that... it confuses me.”
He leaned against the counter, arms folded. “You looked like you'd seen a ghost when I told you the year.”
“I sort of felt like I had,” she murmured, more to herself than to him.
He didn’t press further, but she noticed his curiosity—he was trying to be polite, trying not to pry. It made her trust him a little more.
After what felt like forever, Jacob finally stood, rubbing his palms against his apron. “There’s a room in the back. It’s not much, but you can sleep there tonight.”
She looked up, her voice soft. “Thank you.”
He gave a small nod—brief, almost bashful—then turned away, busying himself with something unseen.
Evelyn stood slowly, stretching her limbs. “Jacob?”
He glanced back.
“Do you believe in... time travel?”
He blinked, caught off guard, then gave a half-smile. “Can’t say I’ve thought about it much. But... this winter’s been stranger than most.”
She managed a tired smile. “Yeah. Strange is one word for it.”
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- Writer
