🌧️ The Third Encounter
A week passed. Clara tried a different route, but curiosity pulled her back to the park.
The woman was there again, silently watching.
“They told me you died, Clara. They said I’d never see you again,” she whispered.
Clara froze. “How do you know my name?”
“You have your father’s eyes,” the woman said, tears filling hers. “You used to hold my finger when you slept.”
Before Clara could respond, Mia grabbed her arm. “Let’s go!”
They ran home. That night, Clara lay awake staring at her glow-in-the-dark ceiling stars, wondering if her parents were hiding something.
