THE MAN IN THE RAIN
The rain began just before sunset.
It fell heavily over the city, turning the streets into mirrors of yellow headlights and neon signs. People hurried beneath umbrellas, taxis splashed through puddles, and shop owners pulled their doors shut against the storm.
Amara Bennett stood beneath the narrow roof of an old bookstore, staring at the rain.
She checked her phone.
7:42 p.m.
Her older sister had promised to pick her up twenty minutes ago.
Amara sighed.
"Of course."
She tucked her phone into her handbag and looked down the street.
Nothing.
She had never liked waiting alone at night.
Not because she was easily frightened, but because the city had changed in recent months. There were stories about people disappearing. Strange phone calls. Break-ins. A series of unexplained incidents that the police had never properly explained.
Amara tried not to think about them.
She had enough problems already.
Tomorrow was her first day working at Blackwood Publishing, one of the biggest publishing companies in the city. She had spent years dreaming about getting a job there.
Tonight was supposed to be peaceful.
Instead, she was standing in the rain.
A black car suddenly stopped across the street.
Amara looked at it.
The windows were tinted.
The engine remained running.
Something about it made her uncomfortable.
She stepped farther beneath the bookstore roof.
The driver's door opened.
A tall young man stepped out.
He wore a dark coat, and rain immediately soaked his hair. He didn't seem bothered by it.
He looked directly at Amara.
She froze.
For several seconds, neither of them moved.
Then he crossed the street.
Amara's heart began beating faster.
"Excuse me," he said.
His voice was calm.
"What?"
He stopped several feet away.
"You're Amara Bennett, aren't you?"
Her expression changed.
"How do you know my name?"
He didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he looked behind her.
Then back at her.
"You need to leave."
Amara frowned.
"Excuse me?"
"Now."
She stared at him.
"You know my name, you're telling me to leave, and you won't explain why?"
"I don't have time."
"Then make time."
For the first time, something almost like amusement appeared in his eyes.
"You have a habit of asking too many questions."
"And you have a habit of avoiding them."
His expression became serious again.
"Amara, listen carefully. Don't go home tonight."
She felt a chill that had nothing to do with the rain.
"Why?"
"Because someone is watching you."
She looked around.
The street appeared normal.
People were moving under umbrellas. Cars passed. A woman stood outside a convenience store.
"Who?"
"I don't know."
"You expect me to believe that?"
"No."
He turned away.
Amara watched him walk toward the black car.
"Wait!"
He stopped.
She ran a few steps toward him.
"Who are you?"
He turned.
"My name is Adrian."
"Adrian what?"
He gave her a strange look.
"Just Adrian."
"That's not a surname."
"I know."
He got into the car.
Before closing the door, he looked at her one last time.
"Whatever happens, don't trust anyone who asks about the blue file."
The door closed.
The car disappeared into the rain.
Amara stood there, confused.
Then her phone rang.
She almost dropped it.
Her sister's name appeared on the screen.
"Hello?"
There was silence.
"Elena?"
A man's voice answered.
"Don't go home."
Amara's blood ran cold.
"Who is this?"
The line went dead.
She immediately called her sister.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
A third time.
Still nothing.
Amara looked toward the road where Adrian's car had disappeared.
For the first time, she wondered whether she should have followed him.
