CHAPTER 4:SYRA
352 Words
Lisa met Syra at the café near her office—the same one Daniel used to stop by for her favorite bread roll.
Syra was already there, waving from a corner table, two cups of coffee waiting.
“You look pale,” Syra said. “Don’t tell me you skipped breakfast again.”
Lisa smiled tiredly. “You sound like my mother.”
“I sound better than your mother,” Syra said with a teasing grin, and Lisa laughed. The joke worked; it always did.
Syra’s warmth was easy to love. She noticed everything—when Lisa needed sugar in her coffee, when her hands were cold, when her smile looked forced. People said she was sharp; Lisa thought she was simply kind.
“I talked to Daniel yesterday,” Syra said suddenly, stirring her cup. “He said you’ve been quiet lately.”
Lisa looked up. “You talked to Daniel?”
“Yeah,” Syra said easily, meeting her eyes. “He called, asked if you were okay. I told him you’ve been swamped with work.”
Something inside Lisa tightened, though she wasn’t sure why. “You didn’t have to—”
“I know.” Syra’s tone softened. “But I worry about you. If he’s not checking in enough, someone should.”
Lisa stared at her coffee. It was true—Daniel had been distant. Maybe she should be grateful that Syra cared enough to notice.
“Thanks,” she said quietly.
Syra reached across the table, touched her wrist. “You’d do the same for me, wouldn’t you?”
Lisa nodded without thinking. Of course she would.
Syra smiled then, slow and satisfied. “That’s why I trust you.”
They spent the rest of the morning talking—about work, about Lisa’s mother, about everything except Daniel. When Lisa laughed, Syra leaned in closer, as if she wanted to memorize the sound.
Later, as Lisa walked home, the words replayed in her head:
You’d do the same for me.
They had always been a promise.
Today, they sounded a little like a warning.
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- Writer
