Bea shifted her weight from one foot to the other, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. “Yeah… kinda. I just got lucky and ran after you,” she said, her voice light, almost too light, like she was trying to smooth over something sharp.
Kafziel watched her closely. Her eyes didn’t quite meet his, and that familiar unease stirred again in his chest. Lucky… he repeated in his mind. Was it really luck? Or is this another half‑truth?
He nodded slowly, pretending to accept the answer, but his thoughts were already elsewhere. Something doesn’t add up, he thought. And no matter how hard I try, my mind keeps going back to her.
Aniela’s name surfaced uninvited, warm and heavy at the same time. Why do I keep thinking about her? he wondered. Why does it feel like she’s the missing piece?
Kaf
