LOST IN THE RAIN

CRACKS IN THE SILENCE

The next morning, the storm was still there.

It was softer now, like the sky was tired from crying all night.

Sofia sat on the couch with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Her tea had gone cold. She wasn’t really drinking it — she was watching Ethan.

He was at the small kitchen counter, making toast. He moved like he was thinking about something else, his jaw tight, his eyes far away.

She couldn’t stop hearing the man’s voice from last night.

Storms bring things back, even the things you don’t want.

Sofia finally spoke. “Do you know him well?”

Ethan didn’t look up. “Not anymore.”

“That’s not an answer.”

He placed the toast on the table. “And it’s all you’re getting right now.”

She pulled the blanket tighter. “You don’t have to tell me everything, Ethan. But you can’t expect me to act like nothing happened.”

His eyes lifted, and for a moment, she saw something in them — guilt, maybe. Or fear. But just as quickly, it was gone.

“I’m trying to keep you out of it,” he said quietly.

“Out of what?”

Instead of answering, he walked over and set the plate of toast in front of her. “Eat before it gets cold.”

Sofia stared at the bread. “You can’t distract me with toast.”

He gave the smallest hint of a smile. “Worth a try.”

They ate in silence for a while, the sound of the rain filling the space between them.

Later, when Ethan stepped out to take a call, Sofia wandered to the window. She could see the street from here — and that’s when she noticed it.

Across the road, half-hidden under an umbrella, someone was standing.

Watching the building.

Her chest tightened. It wasn’t the man from last night. This one was shorter, wearing a light coat. But the way they stood there, still and patient, sent a shiver through her.

The stranger looked up, met her eyes for just a second, then turned and walked away.

When Ethan came back in, she didn’t know if she should tell him. But something in her gut whispered that the storm wasn’t over. It had only just started.