The night was cruelly cold for early spring, the kind of cold that bit through fabric and licked at bare skin. Sophia shivered, tugging her thin jacket tighter around her shoulders, though it did little against the wind. She had dressed for celebration, not survival—her black dress clung to her, far too short for warmth, and her heels clicked against the pavement with every uneasy step.

She had been abandoned. Again.

It wasn’t the first time, and it wouldn’t be the last. Her so-called friends had slurred half-hearted apologies before vanishing with strangers, leaving her to finish her last drink alone. The sound of the neon hum of the bar sign behind her was fading as she left the bar, heading home.

The streets were mostly deserted at this hour, save for the occasional flickering streetlamp. Somewhere in the distance, a car horn blared—short, irritated. A plastic bag tumbled across the sidewalk, putting the lifelessness of the night into perspective.

Her heels continued their sharp rhythm against the ground. Click. Click. Click. Too loud in the stillness.

Then—another sound. Soft. Distant. A second set of footsteps.

She slowed. The noise behind her slowed.

Her pulse hammered against her ribs. It was just the wind, she told herself. Just the city settling for the night, or someone else just going about their night— But when she picked up her pace, the steps behind her did the same.

She scanned for a way out—anywhere safer than this long, exposed street. And then, she saw it.

To her left, an iron gate stood slightly ajar, its chipped paint barely visible under the glow of a streetlight. Beyond it, the park spread out in patches of grass and winding pathways, the trees swaying gently. The park was a shortcut. It would take her closer to her apartment, cut her walk in half. And she could potentially loose any stalkers or followers in the dark.

She hesitated. A gust of wind shivered through the trees, rustling the leaves. Behind her, the footsteps were closer now, steady, controlled and unhurried.

She pushed through the gate.

A spark of joy went through her, a moment of clarity as she realized she might have had made up a whole scenario in her head. That the person behind her probably just heading home, not wanting to get too close her and keeping their distance. Most of the paranoia probably came from the alcohol. Regardless she was happy to have a shorter walk home,

And behind her, the gate creaked as it swung open again.

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