Episode 002
1162 Words
The small room was both comfortable and stood still, pressing on Kiran’s chest still. She hadn’t had a space to herself in what seemed like forever—no prying eyes, no judgemental whispers. Thinking was dangerous right now, but the quiet gave her the chance to think.
She stared at the pendant that dangled from her fingers, like a tired boxer might study their bruised knuckles. That wasn’t just something she could wear; it was the final tie to her father. It was comforting and suffocating, this reminder of the life she’d lost through and through it.
She murmured to herself, her voice swallowed by the walls, “I’m not ready for this."
The truth didn’t wait for readiness, and neither did the gnawing reality that she didn’t know where she was going or who she was going to call.
She tucked the pendant back under her shirt, startled by a soft knock at the door.
“Kiran?” Her voice was muffled, but kind. I left a blanket outside the door."Gets cold in there at night."
Kiran pushed the door open to see Mabel with half her sturdy frame already nearly to the hall, silhouetted against the warm glow from the stairwell.
Kiran called after her, “Thank you."
Without looking back, Mabel waved a hand. “Get some rest, kid. Tomorrow will be kinder."
Kiran wasn’t so sure about that, but the gesture warmed her otherwise frozen insides. The light weight of the blanket pitched in her loose fingers and heated her palm with its scratchy, thick fabric, promising warmth.
She sat down again, rubbing her arms against the growing chill, and set it on the bed. She thought about the man who had spoken to her downstairs. He had been nothing overtly threatening, but there was something you could feel between them, like the slide of a shadow past.
“Stop it,” she muttered. “He was just being polite."
She had learnt in the city to be careful and to see kindness beneath it all. She’d trusted too quickly before, and there was too much at stake to repeat the same mistake.
Her thinking was interrupted by the hum of a car engine outside. She stood and went to the small window, peeking through the curtains. The street below was softly lit by the orange of street lights.
Across the street a black sedan idled, one with windows as dark as mascara on a hooker, so dark it reflected the world back onto itself. Kiran's heartbeat quickened. She came forward a little, watching for any further movement within the car.
Nothing.
She wiped the sleeve of her sweater across the glass, fogging up her breath. She looked again, and the car was gone, except for a faint line where its tire met the damp pavement.
She told herself it was just a coincidence, but her voice had no conviction.
She locked the door but still crawled under the blanket. The creaking bed and the faint lavender smell of the quilt were soothing by comparison with the city's sharp edges.
She closed her eyes, wishing her thoughts would stop spinning her mind, but they wouldn't stop.
Her father’s casket.
Camilla’s smirk.
The whispering crowd.
She asked herself where to begin.
She circled the question in her mind until sleep finally took her.
---
The curtains parted to the pale, hesitant morning light. Kiran stirred and disoriented for a moment in the unfamiliar surroundings. She sat up, rubbing her eyes, then events of the previous day came rushing back to her.
The diner was already coming to life downstairs. Up through the floorboards came the slight clatter of plates and the hum of conversation. She smelt coffee brewing rich and inviting.
Kiran splashed her face with cold water from the bathroom next to her and headed downstairs. The first customers of the day trickled in, and over at the counter, Mabel was flipping through a notebook.
Mabel said without looking up, "Morning."
“Morning,” Kiran replied.
“You’re in luck. ‘The coffee’s fresh, and I made too many biscuits.’”
Mabel slid a plate of warm biscuits her way, and Kiran sat at the counter, grateful. The buttery flavour melted in her mouth. There was a small victory, a small taste of normalcy, for a moment.
“You sleep okay?” Mabel asked.
Kiran hesitated, then nodded. “Yes, I did. I said, ‘Thanks again for letting me stay.’”
“Don’t mention it. ‘Everyone needs a little kindness now and then.’”
The door jingled, and a tall man in a grey overcoat walked in before Kiran could respond. He was there, like he filled the room, being noticed but not asked to be. He scanned the diner with his dark eyes, but briefly on Kiran, before moving on.
His movements were deliberate; he approached the counter. He said, low and smooth, “Coffee, black.".
Pouring a cup, she slid it towards him. Mabel nodded. “Anything else?"
He dropped a few bills on the counter and said, ‘That’ll do.'.
Something about him was magnetic though, and Kiran tried not to look, but she was unable to avert her eyes. She was curious and uneasy, though, at his quiet confidence.
He looked at her again as he sipped his coffee. This time they looked into each other, eyes locking and Kiran getting this odd jolt like he knew something about her that she never told him.
He said, more to Mabel than anyone else, “Good coffee."
'Best in the city' Mabel grinned.
He chuckled softly and returned his gaze to his drink.
Her appetite disappeared, and she focused on her plate.
Mabel passed by and said under her breath, “Relax.” “Not everyone is out to get you."
She wasn’t entirely convinced, but Kiran managed a weak smile.
---
Hours passed so slowly, sometimes they could be measured by the ebb and flow of customers. Wiping tables and refilling sugar jars relieved her of the fact that this was the distraction she needed.
Her gaze drifted to the street outside every now and then. She couldn’t get the feeling out of her head that someone was watching, waiting for her to drop her guard.
Hours on the diner’s worn floors had worn her down, and by the time the sun set, she was beyond exhaustion, her feet aching. She handed her a plate of leftovers and shoved her upstairs.
"Good job, today," Mabel said. “Get some rest. Tomorrow’s another long one."
Kiran nodded and took the plate with a quiet 'Thanks'.
The familiar hum of the city greeted her as she climbed the stairs. Her eyes scanned the street below, and she paused at the window.
The streetlamp flickered in the distance, the only thing in the empty space.
She locked the door though and sat down to eat.
It was another day, but some of today’s shadows remained.
- Writer
