The phone started buzzing.
Paul picked up the call without looking at the number.
"What you want?"
"I was about to..."
"Then take some sleeping pills."
He frowned. "Now?"
"Where?"
"Alright. I'll be there in fifteen minutes."
He stared at the black screen. Under the bright ceiling light, the glass mirrored his face. He slid the phone into his pocket and turned to the door.
The cab turned around, and left. Leaving Paul standing on the edge of a road.
The night air brushed past him. He stood there for a moment, watching the red glow of the taillights disappear into the darkness.
Paul started walking. His gaze swept over the surroundings—a few scattered houses with dark windows. He doubted anyone actually lived in them; they looked more like abandoned shells than homes.
A single streetlight flickered a few yards away, its dying pulse the only sign of electricity for miles.
As he walked, the concrete gave way to tall grass and the looming shadows of ancient trees.
He stopped. His eyes shifted across the streets. Someone was there. Wearing a white dress, that seemed to catch the moonlight.
He crossed the street, the distance between them shrinking until her face came into focus.
Mia
"You came."
"Where did you want to go?"
"Straight to the point." She sighed slightly, "up there."
Paul looked at the line of stone steps leading toward the hill. "Why?"
"To ace the exams." She turned toward the stairs and started climbing. Paul followed beside her.
"Reading the books will get you better grades than blind faith."
"Don't want to hear from someone who can pass without studying," she shot back. "And dumb people like me can't just rely on books alone. Sometimes gods are the only way out."
"Maybe."
"You don't pray?" she asked, glancing at him.
"No."
"Not even once?"
"Not that I remember."
"Sounds suspicious." Mia turned around, walking backward up the steps with effortless grace. She watched his face as they climbed.
"I wonder... have you ever had those moments in life? Where you're totally lost, with no one around? Anything like that?"
Paul looked at the broken edge of a step. "I have."
"Then what do you do in those times?"
"Nothing," Paul answered quietly. "Sometimes things just happen. And there's nothing we can do about it."
Mia let out a short laugh, her eyes bright under the moonlight. "Ha... you sound like some old geezer."
Paul was silent for a moment, the words coming out of his mouth didn't feel his. Mia turned back around, her white dress swirling as she resumed the climb. They had reached the halfway point, where the trees thinned and the moon felt closer.
"There's another reason you called me, right?"
"Huh—no." Mia's step faltered. She stumbled slightly, losing her balance on the uneven surface. Her toe snagged on a jagged edge of the cold stone. "Ouch!"
She went down hard.
Paul didn't stop. He walked two more steps before the sound of the impact registered. He paused, looking back over his shoulder.
"Hey—wait up!" Mia called out, her voice strained.
She tried to push herself up, but a sharp pain shot through her ankle. She gasped and dropped back onto the step. "Ow... no, no, no."
Paul walked back down to her. "How'd you fall?"
"How? It's all your fault!" She shot him a look that was half-pain and half-fury. "You were being so... you. Now tell me how the heck I'm supposed to get to the top?"
"Stand up and walk." Paul stared down at her, his broad shoulders blocking the moonlight and casting her into shadow.
"Listen, Mr. Smarty Pants. I think I screwed up my ankle because of you. I can't walk right." She looked up at him, her bottom lip trembling.
Paul didn't answer.
"Come on, give me a hand up." She held her hands up like a kid.
Paul hesitated for a split second. Then, he reached down and took her hand. His grip was firm and dry as he helped her get steady.
Mia leaned on him, but as soon as she tried to put weight on her left foot, the pain shot through her again.
"I can't."
"Then we should head back," Paul said, reaching for his pocket. "I'll call an ambulance."
"Wha—what?" She moved quickly, snatching the phone right out of his hand before he could even unlock it. "I don't want to go back! I haven't prayed yet. If I don't pray, I'm gonna fail for sure."
"Then?"
"Um—lift." She struggled for the right word, her eyes dropping to the busted stones at their feet.
"Carry me." She whispered.
"Didn't hear it."
"Yes, you did!" she snapped, her face flushing pink under the moonlight. "Carry me to the top. You gotta take responsibility for your actions."
Paul just stared at her, his face unreadable.
"What? You think I'm heavy?"
"Probably."
"Geez! I am not! You hear me? I'm not. And besides, you're strong. You can easily carry two of me."
Paul gave a small nod and turned his back to her.
"Piggyback?" she muttered. "You're supposed to carry me in front. Like... y'know..."
"You saying something?"
"No—it's nothing. Bend over. I can't hop on when you're standing so tall. You're like a skyscraper."
Paul lowered himself.
"That's good." She leaned forward, wrapping her arms around his neck as she hopped onto his back.
Paul stood up. The shift in weight was sudden, and Mia let out a little yelp of surprise.
"Hey, hey! Easy! You'll drop me!"
Paul slowed his movements down, shifting his grip beneath her knees to let her adjust. She was way lighter than he expected.
"Now go," she ordered, her chin resting near his shoulder.
Paul began the walk again, his pace slow and careful. She wrapped her arms around his neck more securely, her breath warm against his collar.
"Now, this is the life," she murmured playfully. "I'll pay you fifty bucks per ride. What do you say?"
"I have enough money."
"Oh... I forgot. You're in a relation with the Qing dynasty. Fully loaded with treasure chests."
"I work."
"Yeah, I know. Beating up street thugs. Acting edgy in school. It feels like you live in a world I don't know."
"You know," Paul whispered.
"I know? How?"
"Nothing."
"There you go again," she said lazily, brushing her face against his shoulder. Her arms pulled a little tighter around his neck.
"Are you listening?"
"I'm listening."
"I have something to ask."
"Then ask."
"But promise you'll answer and don't get mad."
"It depends. I can't promise anything."
"Just say I won't get mad."
Paul stayed silent. The wind brushed past them, carrying the scent of pine and old stone. He kept walking.
"Say it." She pressed her body tighter against his back, her arms tightening around his throat as if she were trying to choke the answer out of him.
"Say that you won't get angry."
Paul's expression didn't change. His eyes remained calm, undisturbed by the pressure on his neck. "I won't."
She released her grip softly, her voice falling to a whisper. "Last Saturday. Who was that woman?"
"Sara."
"And?"
"And you don't need to know anything further."
"I saw how you looked after she appeared. I've never seen you react that way to anyone else." She spoke softly against his cheek. "You looked like a completely different person back then."
"So tell me. Who is she?"
Paul didn't answer.
"Is she your friend? Sister? Someone important?"
"You can say that."
"Say what?"
"That she is my friend. Sister. And someone important."
"That's it?"
"I can't tell you more."
"You didn't tell me anything!" she cried, tapping his head in frustration.
"You still haven't told me why you really called me here."
"You'll find out when we get there," Mia retorted, her breath tickling his neck.
Neither spoke after that. As they neared the peak, the landscape shifted. The paved path disappeared, replaced by a dirt trail.
The trees were huge, with thick, twisted trunks and tangled branches blocking out the moon. It felt less like a hilltop and more like a forgotten pocket of forest, cut off from the city below.
Mia kept her face buried against his back. Behind her closed eyelids, Paul's question echoed in her mind.
"We're here," Paul mumbled, slowing as he emerged from the last trees.
Mia opened her eyes, a shiver crawling down her spine. The place seemed even more desolate than she remembered.
The structure before them was nothing like a grand red temple. It was a small, old house dressed as a shrine. Its wood was pale and worn, drained of color with age.
Paul was silent.
He tightened his grip on her and stepped onto the porch. The old wood groaned under his weight, a sharp crack echoing through the empty woods.
He shoved the door open with his shoulder. Rusted metal screamed against the frame, and together, they stepped out of the moonlight into the darkness inside.