It was late afternoon when Emma Parker, a seven-year-old second grader, walked down the quiet suburban street. Her pink backpack bounced against her side, stuffed with notebooks slipping out of the zipper. A striped scarf kept sliding off her shoulder no matter how many times she fixed it.
The neighborhood was unusually still—no cars passing, no neighbors outside. Only one figure stood near the apartment entrance.
Emma froze.
The Man in Black
The man was tall, dressed in a long black coat. His face was partly hidden by a scarf and his collar turned up, but even from a distance, he looked intimidating. He didn’t seem to be waiting for anyone in particular, just standing, glancing around, then fixing his gaze back on the building.
Emma’s chest tightened. In her mind, she heard her father’s voice reminding her: “If something feels wrong, don’t ignore it. Make light, make noise.”
The man noticed her. His eyes sharpened. He stepped forward slowly, like he was checking to see if anyone else was around. The street was empty—no pedestrians, no cars. Emma’s palms grew sweaty as her heart pounded harder. The man began walking faster.
