The diner suddenly felt smaller.
My heart was racing so hard I could barely hear anything except the pounding in my ears. The man in black stood motionless in the doorway, gripping the photograph as if it were evidence in a trial I didn’t know I was facing. Every instinct screamed at me to run.
“Who are you?” I asked, my voice trembling.
Instead of answering, he slowly approached my table and sat down across from me.
“You’ve been looking for him all day,” he said calmly.
My stomach dropped.
“Where is he?”
The man studied my face for several uncomfortable seconds.
“That’s not what you should be asking.”
A chill ran down my spine.
The waitress had already disappeared into the kitchen, leaving us completely alone. Outside, the sun was setting, casting long shadows through the windows.
“What do you mean?” I whispered.
The stranger leaned forward.
“You should be asking why he spent twenty-two years searching for you.”
Panic surged through me.
Twenty-two years.
The same number again.
The same year I had spent my entire adult life trying to bury.
I stood up so quickly my chair nearly fell over.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
The man gave a cold smile.
“That’s interesting.”
Then he reached into his coat and pulled out a small notebook.
The moment I saw it, my blood ran cold.
I recognized it immediately.
It was impossible.
Absolutely impossible.
That notebook had disappeared twenty-two years ago.
No one should have had it.
No one.
My hands started shaking uncontrollably.
“Where did you get that?” I demanded.
The man’s expression darkened.
“He told me to give it to you if anything happened to him.”
The room spun around me.
Anything happened to him?
“What happened?” I asked.
The man hesitated.
For the first time, he seemed genuinely nervous.
Then he lowered his voice.
“He vanished last night.”
My stomach twisted into knots.
“Vanished?”
“He called me around midnight. He sounded terrified.”
The stranger swallowed hard.
“He kept saying someone had finally found him.”
A chill ran down my spine so intense I could barely breathe.
“Who?”
The man slowly looked toward the diner windows.
“I don’t know.”
Then he opened the notebook.
Inside was an old photograph.
I felt the color drain from my face.
The picture showed a group of people standing together twenty-two years ago.
And among them…
Was me.
But I wasn’t looking at myself.
I was staring at the homeless man.
Only he wasn’t homeless in the photo.
He was younger.
Cleaner.
Smiling.
And standing right beside me.
My heart nearly stopped.
Because I knew exactly who he was.
Or at least…
I thought I did.
The man in black watched my reaction carefully.
“You remember him now, don’t you?”
I couldn’t speak.
My entire body had gone numb.
Then he pointed to someone standing in the background of the photograph.
Someone I had never noticed before.
Someone whose face had been partially scratched out.
The moment I saw him, panic surged through me.
“No…” I whispered.
The stranger’s eyes widened.
“You know who that is?”
Before I could answer, the front door of the diner suddenly burst open.
Everyone froze.
A tall figure stepped inside.
Covered in dust.
Breathing heavily.
And the moment I saw his face, my blood turned to ice.
Because the homeless man everyone believed had vanished…
Was standing right there.
But he wasn’t looking at me.
He was staring directly at the man in black.
And the first words out of his mouth made my heart stop.
“She’s not the one you should be afraid of.”
To be continued in C0mments 👇
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