Chapter 1
It was raining again that day. Just as I parked my car and headed home, I noticed a woman crying in the park across the street. She was in her thirties.
I walked toward her; I could tell she was afraid of me. I simply left my umbrella next to her and walked away to my house.
About fifteen minutes passed when my doorbell rang. It was her. She had come to return the umbrella.
“Come in, warm up a bit if you like,” I said. I left the door open and went back to sit at my computer. She stepped inside timidly and closed the door.
“There’s a towel in the bathroom if you want to dry off,” I added, gesturing toward the bathroom. She went straight there. Moments later, I saw she had wrapped a towel over her wet clothes.
I stood up again, handed her a clean bathrobe, and told her she could use the other room. I assured her she could lock the door, dry off comfortably, and stay as long as she needed.
She went into the room... but I never heard the sound of the door locking.
I poured myself a glass of tea to fight the lazy mood of the rain and sat back at my computer. I started working again. I was so lost in the lines of code—trying to fix a bug in my project—that I completely forgot her presence in the house.
After a while, I realized she was standing silently next to me in the bathrobe. I turned around, and our eyes met.
“What kind of man are you?” she asked, her voice trembling.
I was surprised. I thought I had done something wrong or offended her.
“Anyone else wouldn’t do this for a stranger,” she added, wiping a tear.
I got up, poured a cup of tea for her, and went back to my seat. She turned on the TV nearby and started surfing the channels.
My eyes were getting heavy, and I realized it was quite late. I went to my room to find something for her to wear. I found an old, oversized t-shirt and some sweatpants that were too small for me but would fit her. I gave them to the woman whose name I still didn’t know.
I told her she could sleep in the bed in the other room and went to my own room.
Just as I was about to fall asleep, I noticed my door opening slightly. I didn’t care much; I just thought she had confused the rooms, so I closed my eyes again.
Then, she walked in quietly and sat on the edge of my bed. She was wearing the oversized clothes I gave her.
She just kept standing there by my bedside. I turned my head toward her.
“What happened?” I asked. “Thank you,” she said softly. “You’re welcome. Now go to your room and try to sleep. We’ll talk later.”
“Good night,” she said, turned around, and quietly left my room, closing the door behind her. Her polite behavior made me feel she wasn’t a thief or dangerous, so I went back to sleep.
Later in the night, I jumped out of bed at the sound of a scream. I ran to her room. She was sitting on the bed, sobbing.
I went to the kitchen, poured a glass of water with some ice, and returned to the room. I handed her the water, but her hands were shaking too much to hold the glass. I sat on the edge of the bed and helped her drink it slowly.
After she calmed down a bit, I walked her to the bathroom so she could wash her face. Then, she went back to her bed and lay down immediately.
I covered her with the blanket and turned off the light. “Please don’t turn it off,” she whispered with a misty voice.
I would learn much later why she was so afraid of the dark.
As I closed the door, I said, “You are safe here, sleep well. Good night,” and went to the living room.
My sleep was gone; I couldn’t go back to bed. I lit a cigarette and sat in the dark, hoping to get sleepy again. Instead, I was becoming more awake. It was around 5 AM. I quickly brewed some fresh tea and lit my second cigarette. The best thing to do was to enjoy the silence and read a book.
The day was breaking. Through the shivering cold of the window, I could hear the birds singing from the park where I found her.
As usual, I had already wasted an hour moving slowly while getting ready. Luckily, I was finally done. “I won’t be late today,” I thought.
Just as I was about to leave, I remembered the girl sleeping inside.
I went downstairs to the corner store, bought fresh bread and some breakfast items, and went back up. I opened the door quietly. Although I had some cheese and olives in the fridge, I wanted to leave fresh bread for her. I left everything on the kitchen counter.
I went to the living room and found a Post-it note on the table. I wrote: “I don’t know what you are going through, but make yourself at home. If you decide to leave, just close the door.” I stuck the note right in the middle of the TV screen.
I left the house quickly and got into my car. The trees had covered my car in dirt again, making the paint almost invisible. “When was my car ever clean anyway?” I thought.
The door handle was sticky, probably from tree resin. I opened the door with a bit of disgust. The inside of my car was just as messy as the outside. I cursed myself for blaming the trees for my own mess. I found a wet wipe with a random Kebab restaurant’s logo on it in the clutter and wiped my sticky hand.
I started the engine and turned on the radio.
