Even after many days passed since Elara visited my cramped room at the inn, I couldn't make myself believe it was real. I had no intention of going back to her—I knew that. But I hadn't expected her to actually listen to me. I didn't think she would just walk away without saying anything.
But the days bled into a week, and I didn't see even a shadow of her. It was as if she had finally taken my rejection to heart. But my mind was occupied by something else.
I straightened my back, which had been bent over the café tables for the last hour. As I wiped away the sticky rings left by coffee cups, my eyes drifted—almost against my will—to the second floor of the building across the street.
I hoped I was wrong. I hoped it was just my mind playing tricks on me because I hadn't slept, but there he was again. The same man from yesterday was sitting by the window, looking straight down at me.
