9:50 AM

The rider ran his fingers through his tousled blond hair, then swept his gaze across the field like he was searching for something. His helmet dangled from one hand, and his boots crunched softly against the edge of the tar.

Alya's breath hitched... again. He was breathtaking.

He looked about her age, maybe a bit older. His frame was lean, his shoulders broad, and his waist narrow. There was confidence in the way he stood, like someone fully in control.

When he turned toward her, their eyes met and Alya's heart did a backflip.

His eyes were blue, bright and clear.

Then, without a word, he swung his leg over the front of the bike in one smooth motion, stood, and started walking toward her.

Alya sat up straighter. Her heart was thudding louder now. She hugged her bag tightly to her chest and glanced around again, searching instinctively for someone...anyone.

But there was no one. Just the open field around her and the empty road behind him.

"Don't worry, I won't bite."

"Who are you?" she asked, still not loosening her grip on her bag. To her, it felt like the only shield against him.

He smiled. "A nomad."

"A what?"

"A traveler," he said with a shrug.

"You're... a teenager."

"Seventeen," he replied, raising both eyebrows as though it wasn't a big deal.

Alya narrowed her eyes. "And a traveler?"

"Yep." He plopped down beside her as if they'd known each other for years. "Name's Jayden," he said, reaching out a hand.

She stared at it for a second, then slowly reached out and shook it. "Alya."

"Nice to meet you, Alya." His fingers felt cold against her warm, sweaty, fidgety hand.

He tilted his head, studying her face. "So what are you doing alone in the middle of a field during school hours?"

"It's complicated," she muttered, dropping her gaze.

"I've got time."

"I don't even know you," she said matter-of-factly. "For all I know, you could be a serial killer."

He threw his head back and laughed. "Do you really think that? Like, deep down, what does your gut say?"

She didn't answer because the fear she initially had was gone. Her chest had eased the moment he got close. It didn't make sense, but it felt real.

"I'm weird," she blurted out.

Jayden narrowed his eyes. "What makes you say that?"

And just like that, the dam broke loose.

She told him everything.

The flickering lights, the slamming doors. The way people stared as if she were a mistake. How it felt to never be enough, or always too much. Her throat tightened, but she kept going, unburdening her heavy heart.

She told him what it was to be feared, avoided, treated as a walking hazard, as though getting too close might trigger a transformation into a demon.

Finally, her shaky voice dropped to a whisper. "I don't belong here."

He didn't interrupt. He just sat with her and listened.

"Where do you belong?" he asked calmly.

"I don't know," she began. "But… I believe there are people like me somewhere." Her fingers went straight to the silver locket resting against her chest. It was always warm when her thoughts spiraled too far.

She opened it carefully. Inside was a faded photo of a young woman with white hair and grey eyes, so much like Alya. The only difference was the softer, happier look on her face.

"This is all I have of her," Alya whispered. "She looks so young here. I don't know where she is. I don't even know if she's still alive. I just… I wonder what happened."

"What happened?" Jayden echoed.

"Why she abandoned me," she said, still looking at the photo.

"Why haven't you tried to find her?"

"I did. I wanted to, but I don't have access to anything outside school. No phone. No internet. And even at school... everything glitches when I'm around. Phones, computers, anything electronic stops working when I get too close. The last time I tried using a school computer, the whole system crashed."

"Hmm."

Alya nodded faintly. "And no one wants to help. They think I'm cursed. People avoid me like I'm some kind of bad luck."

"And even if I could use a computer," she continued, "I don't have the money. I wouldn't even know where to start."

"I have money," he said. "And I know a way."

She blinked. "What?"

"We can find her," he said with a shrug.

"You're serious?" she asked skeptically.

"Dead serious."

"How?"

He stood slowly, brushed off his jeans, and held out his hand to her. "Come with me. I'll show you."

She stared at his outstretched hand, then lifted her gaze to his face. Her heart thudded with the wild hope that maybe, just maybe, this was it. A way out, a chance at answers. The thought alone sent a rush through her veins.

She could almost taste freedom on her tongue. A life without fear, without the crushing silence that clung to her like a second skin.

Then her eyes dropped to the locket around her neck.

It was warm again, pulsing gently, as though it were breathing with her.

She exhaled, her heart easing for the first time in years. A small smile tugged at her lips.

"What do I have to lose?" she said with a shrug, then reached out and took his hand.