Chapter 02
1097 Words
Selene Connell
Animals.
The best part of my day.
They don’t ask questions, don’t judge, don’t give you that heavy look.
They’re just there—existing, breathing, trusting me without expecting anything but affection, food, and a decent walk.
With them, I could just... be me.
No masks. No armor.
The tired Selene, hair a mess, shirt a little crooked, sneakers falling apart.
And no one cared.
I stopped by my usual clients’ homes. That afternoon, just three dogs—which was perfect, since my body was still aching from the morning shift.
Toby, an old golden retriever, calm to the bone.
Popcorn, a hyper, jumpy mutt.
And Thor, a beagle who acted like he owned the whole block.
I clipped their leashes with the kind of care that comes from knowing each one’s personality inside and out.
And then I headed to the park.
The only place in this city where time actually seemed to slow down.
I walked slowly, letting them sniff everything, no rush.
The sun kissed my face with a softness that felt almost poetic. The sky was clear, and the smell of food from nearby restaurants made my stomach growl.
For a few minutes...
I felt okay.
You know that rare kind of peace?
The one you almost forget exists until it wraps around you like a quiet hug?
That was it.
For a few moments, I forgot everything.
It was just me, the dogs, the breeze, and the world.
Until my eyes… landed on him.
Sitting on one of the benches.
Like he was just there, killing time.
Legs crossed, one hand holding a coffee cup, the other in his pocket.
It was him.
That same man.
That same stare.
That same silence.
Again.
My heart stumbled in my chest, and I faltered mid-step.
What was he doing there?
That wasn’t a coincidence.
Couldn’t be.
The dogs kept moving around me, their leashes tangling around my legs, almost knocking me over.
But I couldn’t move.
This wasn’t normal.
He was here on purpose.
He had to be.
There’s not enough coincidence in the world to explain this.
I tried to breathe slowly, but the knot in my chest was too tight.
Maybe… maybe I was being paranoid.
After everything that happened, I had the right to be.
Gunshots, death, blood.
A stranger who appeared out of nowhere and looked at me like he knew me for years—then vanished like I never existed.
Maybe I was seeing ghosts.
I shook my head, trying to chase the thoughts away, and started walking again, tugging the dogs along.
I passed by him slowly.
My stomach tightened, muscles tense.
I glanced over my shoulder.
And once again…
He ignored me.
Like I was air.
Like I was nothing.
A strange mix of relief and overwhelming frustration bubbled up inside me.
I walked to the far end of the back trail.
The dogs were excited, sniffing the ground, bouncing around, begging for attention.
But I couldn’t stop looking at him.
Making me question my own sanity.
Enough.
I gave the leashes a gentle tug.
"Let’s go, guys," I murmured.
I needed to get out of there.
I needed a moment to think.
I pulled my phone from my pocket and stared at the screen.
Should I tell someone?
Talk to the police?
But… what would I even say? That a good-looking guy showed up twice where I work?
The park’s public.
The café is popular.
None of that was technically a crime.
I sighed.
Put the phone away.
This wasn’t the time to lose focus.
I still had work to do.
And if it *was* something serious… I’d find out.
---
The dogs' bath at the pet shop took longer than usual, but I didn’t mind.
Sitting there on the bench by the front desk, listening to barking and the sound of running water—it was like hitting pause on the chaos in my head.
When the three of them finally came out—clean, fluffy, shaking their wet fur everywhere—I took a deep breath and stood up, trying not to look as drained as I felt.
I returned each one to their homes, one by one, carefully. Cleaned out the kennels, changed the water bowls, filled the food dishes.
The sun was starting to dip by the time I finished. And with it, the exhaustion sank in deeper.
My whole body ached.
My stomach growled.
Again.
Most of the time, I just snacked on cheap stuff—some crackers here, an apple there.
But feeling full?
Not even close.
I took my pay with a tight smile. Tucked the money away like it was gold. Then started walking home.
The breeze on my face was turning cold—it was clear night was on its way.
One more day.
A few more bucks.
One step closer to my goal.
When I reached my building, I climbed the stairs like always. The elevator hadn’t worked in forever, and I couldn’t even remember the last time someone tried fixing it.
I opened the door to my tiny studio and was instantly hit with something… off.
A scent.
Masculine.
Not strong, not overwhelming. Just a faint, woody trace—like expensive cologne lingering in the air.
My body froze for a second.
I looked around, the hairs on my neck standing up.
But everything was the same.
My bag against the wall.
The blanket crooked on the bed.
Dirty dishes in the sink.
Nothing out of place.
Maybe… a new neighbor?
The walls in this building were so thin I could sometimes hear people sneezing next door.
Tenants never stayed long.
And who could blame them?
Moldy studios, cracked walls, noisy pipes. The kind of place most people ran from as soon as they could.
But me?
Well… I was surviving.
I shook the thought off.
Tossed my backpack on the floor, stripped off my clothes, and headed straight for the shower.
The cold water jolted me, but at least it kept me awake.
I dried off with an old towel, threw on whatever clean clothes I had, and went to the kitchen. Ate fast, barely chewing.
I had to head out again.
I grabbed my delivery bag and bike, then left.
On the sidewalk, my phone buzzed with new orders. Addresses popped up on the screen.
Three different restaurants.
Four drop-off points across the city.
Long. Exhausting.
But necessary.
Every day I worked was one less day away from her.
From my sister.
And I’d do whatever it took to find her.
- Writer
