“If you’ll accept it.”
“Yes.”
She looked down, then up at him again.
“If you’re not bad, I’ll take you to see my mommy. But no lies. If you lie, I’ll never talk to you again.”
He smiled.
“Okay.”
They walked in silence along winding paths until they reached a small, ruined hut at the edge of the village. The walls were cracked, the roof patched with rusted metal sheets and old fabric.
Hope knocked gently.
“Mommy, someone came.”
The wooden door creaked open.
A tired woman stood there, her skin pale with fever, her eyes half-closed—until they met Mika’s.
She froze.
He looked at her.
Something passed through her eyes.
Something from another time.
The woman at the door did not speak. Her hand trembled against the frame. Her breathing quickened.
Fever, or fear?
Mika did not know.
He took a step forward.
“You must be her mother. I’m Mika.”
She cut him off with one word.
“Grace.”
He blinked.
“Sorry?”
“My name is Grace,” she said in a dry, weak voice. “Not just her mother.”
Mika nodded, polite, but still wondering why she was looking at him like she had seen a ghost.
But for Grace, it was no ghost.
It was him.
Flashback.
Seven years earlier.
A small city club. Loud music. Dim lights.
She was young, happy, dancing alone, laughter in her chest. He was at the bar in an immaculate black suit, watching her with intensity.
They talked, drank, and danced until the music stopped.
In the privacy of a hotel room, he gave her a necklace.
“This necklace is for the strongest girl I’ve ever met,” he whispered.
That night, she gave him her body.
The next morning, he was gone.
No words. No number. No name.
Only silence—and the necklace.
Back to the present.
Grace stared at him now, her voice trembling.
“You don’t remember, do you?”
Mika frowned.
“Sorry… have we met before?”
Grace let out a bitter laugh.
“No. You don’t remember. But I remember everything. And now you will remember too.”
Mika sat on a small wooden stool in the tiny room. The air smelled of herbs, smoke, and sickness.
Hope poured water into a cup and set it near her mother’s mat.
“Mommy, drink. You’re sweating again.”
Mika watched in silence, then turned to Grace.
“How did your daughter get that necklace?” he asked softly but firmly.
Grace lifted her eyes, her lips dry. She hesitated, then said, “I found it on the ground near the market.”
Mika leaned forward, staring into her eyes.
Leave a Comment