The sunlight outside the church was blinding after the darkness of the coffin. Lena blinked rapidly, forcing her eyes to adjust. Her chest heaved—not just from the exertion of escape but from sheer disbelief—she was alive. Every shadow, every sound reminded her that danger was still near.
She hugged herself, moving cautiously toward the side door. The crowd inside the church was still chaotic, some rushing outside to see what had happened, others murmuring in confusion. Lena thought she had escaped unseen—no one could have noticed her slipping out of the coffin.
But then she saw him.
The man from the coffin—standing near the doorway—met her eyes, and her heart froze. He saw me. She had thought she was invisible, but somehow, he had noticed her. Panic and surprise twisted in her chest.
"Are you… alright?" His voice was calm but carried a note of concern.
Lena blinked, caught off guard. "I… I'm fine," she said, her voice trembling. She kept her distance, unsure whether she could trust him, unsure whether to run or stay.
She ducked behind a pillar, heart racing, watching as he scanned the crowd. He didn't know what she had just survived. He couldn't. And yet, there was something about him—a quiet awareness, a presence—that made her hesitate, even as she reminded herself to focus on survival.