I didn't sleep. My mind kept replaying the fire, Damien's smile, and that whisper in my head: "You weren't supposed to come back."
The next morning looked normal. Sun shining, people walking by, cars honking. Everything… ordinary. But I knew better. I had seen what could happen. And I had to watch him—Damien.
I followed him quietly, staying just far enough so he wouldn't notice. He looked the same—confident, charming, magnetic. People smiled at him, and he smiled back like he owned the world. But I noticed little things I hadn't before: how his fingers drummed nervously on the steering wheel, how he avoided certain buildings, the tiny scar on his left hand I didn't see last time.
I wanted to hate him. I wanted to scream at him for what he did. But the truth? I couldn't. Not yet. Something inside me still remembered the man I once loved, before the darkness.
By noon, I ended up at my favorite café, pretending to read while watching him through the window. He got his usual—black coffee, no sugar—and glanced around like he was waiting for someone. My stomach twisted. Did he… notice me? Could he feel that I remembered everything?
Then… someone sat across from me.
I jumped. My heart was hammering. A man in a dark coat, hood low over his face. He didn't even look at me directly. "You weren't supposed to remember," he said quietly.
I blinked. "Who… who are you?" My voice shook.
He didn't answer. Just slid a small note across the table. I picked it up. It said:
"Watch him. Don't trust him. Not even once."
And then he was gone.
I gripped the note. My hands were trembling. The café felt too bright, too normal, too safe. But I knew it wasn't. Someone knew I was back. Someone knew I remembered.
And Damien… he was still out there. Smiling. Charming. Dangerous. Waiting.
I realized something terrifying: surviving him wasn't just about staying away. It would take thinking, planning, and a lot of luck.
I had a second chance at life. And this time… I wasn't going to waste it.
I folded the note slowly, my hands still shaking. I didn't even know who that man was—or why he knew I remembered. Part of me wanted to throw it away, pretend it never happened. But the other part… the part that had survived death once… knew better.
I tucked the note into my pocket and tried to focus on Damien. He didn't notice me staring, but something about him felt… off. A flicker in his eyes, a pause in his movements—like he knew more than he should. And maybe he did.
I sipped my coffee, forcing myself to look casual, but my mind was racing. Ten years ago, I would have never noticed these things. Ten years ago, I would have trusted him completely. But now… now I knew better.
Every smile, every casual gesture, every glance could hide something deadly. I remembered the fire. I remembered the panic, the heat, the smell of smoke, and his calm face while I burned. And I promised myself, silently: never again.
When Damien finally left the café, I watched him go, heart pounding. Someone else was out there, I knew it. Watching. Waiting. Maybe testing me. And I had no idea what their next move would be.
I leaned back in my chair, trying to breathe normally. I had survived death once. I could survive this. I would survive this.
But one thing was clear: this second chance was going to be far more dangerous than I ever imagined.
Preview for Episode 3:Elara begins investigating Damien's past—but someone is watching her too, and their next move could put her in real danger.