She ordered some Korean food and took out her phone, checking it once again—but there was nothing.
No message.
No notification.
A quiet disappointment settled in her chest.
She slowly lifted her gaze around the restaurant.
The place was filled with couples—young, middle-aged, and even elderly ones.
Some held hands, some shared soft smiles, and a few simply sat in comfortable silence.
The older couples gave off a vintage kind of love—aged, yet warm and unbreakable.
Their presence made her feel something she couldn’t quit name.
The waiter arrived, placing me food neatly in front of her, pulling her back from her thoughts.
She tied her hair into a loose bun, picked up her phone again, and clicked a few aesthetic pictures.
Within seconds, she uploaded them to Instagram, adding a subtle caption.
Then, finally, she took her first bite.
The taste melted into her senses, and for a moment, everything else faded away.
After such a hectic day, that single bite felt like comfort—like her soul had finally found a little peace.
The food was delicious
While enjoying her meal, her eyes suddenly drifted toward a woman serving dessert to a customer sitting in the corner.
He was wearing a blue, slightly shiny suit.
His posture was striking—straight, confident, almost too perfect.
Broad shoulders, calm movements… he looked like a model, or maybe even an actor.
But what truly caught her attention wasn’t him.
It was the dessert.
A delicate, heart-shaped dessert placed elegantly on the plate—glossy and rich.
It looked like it was made from layers of creamy milk, drizzled with golden honey, and coated in smooth, melted chocolate that reflected the soft lights of the restaurant.
It wasn’t just food—it looked like art.
As he casually scrolled through his phone, taking slow bites, she found herself staring at it.
Without realizing, she lightly licked her lips.
She quickly called the waiter, tapping the table softly.
“Excuse me…”
“Yes, ma’am. How can I help you?”
She pointed toward the corner.
“Can you please bring me that dessert?”
The waiter hesitated.
“I’m sorry, ma’am… that’s the only for him.”
She frowned slightly, making a small, pleading face.
“Please? Just this once?”
“I’m really sorry, ma’am. We can’t help with that. Let me know if you’d like anything else.”
Disappointed, she leaned back in her chair, but her eyes kept drifting toward that heart-shaped sweetness.
Meanwhile, the man in the blue suit finished the dessert, savoring the last bite, before calmly wiping his face with a tissue.
As he picked up his phone again, something caught her eye—
Her breath hitched.
On his screen…
It was her.
No… not her.
A childhood picture of her.
Shock spread through her body.
Her eyes widened as she stared, trying to process what she had just seen.
Before she could react, he locked his phone, stood up, and walked toward the counter.
He paid his bill without looking around and headed for the exit.
She immediately got up and hurried after him.
But the moment she pushed the door open—
He was gone.
Vanished.
She stood there, confused and breathless.
“Where did he go…? And why does he have my childhood picture?” she whispered to herself.
Slowly, she walked back to her table, her mind spinning.
She gathered her belongings, paid the bill, and stepped out of the restaurant—
But this time, something felt different.
Like she was no longer alone in her own story.
She came back home and quietly lay down on her bed, staring at the ceiling.
After a moment, she closed her eyes—but sleep didn’t come.
That was unusual.
Whenever she was this tired, she would fall asleep instantly, without even trying.
But tonight… something was different.
Her mind refused to rest.
Everything replayed over and over—the restaurant, the man in the blue suit, that strange dessert… and most of all, the childhood picture on his phone.
She turned to her side, pulling the blanket closer, as if it could silence her thoughts.
“I just want this to stop…” she whispered.
For a brief moment, a dangerous thought crossed her mind—quitting her job.
But she immediately pushed it away.
No.
She loved her job.
It wasn’t just work—it was her dream.
Even if the whole world stood against her, she would never leave it behind.
Solving criminal cases wasn’t just a duty for her—it was an adventure, something that made her feel alive.
Still, tonight… everything felt overwhelming.
With a quiet sigh, she got up from the bed and walked into the living room.
The silence of the house wrapped around her.
She made herself a cup of coffee, the soft clink of the mug the only sound in the room.
Then she sat down on the sofa, pulling a book toward her.
Books were her escape.
A different world.
A safer one.
She opened it and let herself fall into the pages—a mysterious story written by a well-known author.
As she read, her surroundings slowly faded, her thoughts loosening their grip.
For a while… she wasn’t in her life anymore.
She was somewhere else.
And maybe, that’s exactly what she needed.
She was alone in the garden, where every flower seemed dipped in its own shade of magic.
Petals swayed gently, painting the air with colors too soft to name.
She leaned closer, breathing in the fragrance—sweet, calming, almost dreamlike.
But then… there was something else.
A scent deeper, warmer… richer than the flowers themselves.
Her breath paused.
She slowly turned—
And there he was.
Walking toward her.
The sun stood behind him like a silent crown, wrapping him in golden light.
For a moment, he didn’t look real—more like a star that had decided to step down into her world.
In his hands… two cups of coffee.
And in her chest, a quiet storm began to bloom.
He was wearing a soft grey shirt, the top buttons left open, the fabric slightly loose against him.
His sleeves were folded just enough to reveal his forearms—those faint green veins tracing beneath his skin, adding to that quiet, effortless charm he carried.
Something in her softened.
Before she could think, she moved—almost running—straight into him, wrapping her arms around him in a gentle, familiar embrace, as if she had always belonged there.
He held her just as softly.
Leaning closer, his breath brushed against her ear, warm and steady.
“Did you miss me?” he whispered, his voice laced with a quiet kind of love that made her heart stumble.
Elise suddenly jolted awake.
Her fingers clenched tightly into her hair as she struggled to catch her breath.
It came out uneven, almost trembling.
Her face burned red, and a strange heat spread through her entire body, as if the dream still lingered beneath her skin.
For a moment, she couldn’t move.
Her heart was racing… her thoughts tangled.
Then reality settled in.
It was just a dream.
But the feeling… it didn’t fade so easily.
Elise felt everything—every emotion lingering inside her—but she hadn’t even seen that man’s face clearly.
Still, she couldn’t forget the dream.
Could it be Joe?
She tried to convince herself.
Her eyes shifted to the clock.
It was 9 o’clock.
With a quiet sigh, she pushed herself out of bed.
She straightened the sheets, trying to bring some order to the mess inside her as well.
Moving into the kitchen, she washed the dishes, her hands working mechanically while her mind wandered elsewhere.
She cooked breakfast… ate it… but tasted nothing.
Her thoughts were stuck.
That garden.
That man.
That warmth.
That hug…
And the way she had melted into him.
Her grip tightened slightly on the table.
“No… it was Joe,” she whispered to herself, as if saying it enough times would make it true.
But deep inside…
She knew something felt different
She didn’t waste much time.
Elise headed straight to the police station, hoping to gather something—anything—about Shelly’s boyfriend… or her murder case.
“Did you find anything?” she asked as she stepped inside.
By now, she was a regular.
The station almost felt like a second home—familiar faces, familiar silence.
The officer sighed.
“How can a person just disappear like that?” he said, frustration clear in his voice.
Elise’s mind flickered again—
That man… vanishing.
Just like in her dream.
“He was a civil servant, right?” she asked.
“Yes,” the constable replied.
“But there’s nothing. No trace. It’s like he never existed.”
Another officer stepped closer, his tone softer this time.
“Miss Elise… you’re our only hope now. Please find something.”
Elise nodded faintly but didn’t respond immediately.
Something else was forming in her mind.
“I think… the school principal knows more than she’s telling us,” she said slowly.
The constable frowned.
“The principal?”
Elise’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“Yes. There’s something off about her.”
“What about the CCTV footage?” she asked.
“Gone,” he replied.
“Completely erased.”
Silence.
A heavy, uneasy silence.
Elise turned toward the exit, determination settling in her expression.
She stepped out onto the main road, the noise of the city humming faintly around her.
For a moment, she just stood there, lost in thought.
“Where should I go first…?” she murmured to herself.
“Shelly’s house… the school… or Joe?”
The question lingered.
Her lips slowly curved into a small, helpless pout—almost like a child missing something dear.
“I really miss you, Joe…” she whispered.
Without thinking much, she pulled out her phone and called him.
It rang.
And rang.
No answer.
Her expression fell slightly.
“Okay…” she exhaled, trying to sound stronger than she felt.
“Let’s go to Shelly’s house.”
She slipped her phone back, opened the car door, and hopped in.
The engine started with a soft hum.
As she drove off toward her next destination, her mind wasn’t on the road alone—
It was still tangled between a dream…
A missing man…
And a voice that hadn’t answered.
She slowed the car and brought it to a stop right in front of the given address.
For a moment, she didn’t step out.
Her eyes lifted slowly—
A tall apartment building stood before her, quiet… almost too quiet.
She glanced at the note again.
Floor 6.
Apartment 666.
A strange uneasiness crept into her chest.
“666… seriously?” she muttered under her breath, a faint, uneasy smile touching her lips.
Shaking it off, she stepped out of the car and walked inside.
The lobby was empty.
No guard.
No sound.
Just silence.
Her footsteps echoed softly as she moved toward the elevator.
She pressed the button.
Ding.
The doors slid open.
Inside, the mirror reflected her face—calm on the outside, but her eyes… restless.
She pressed 6.
As the elevator began to rise, that same feeling returned—
That something wasn’t right.
The doors opened.
The corridor was dimly lit.
And at the very end—
Apartment 666.
The door stood there…
Waiting.
She stood right in front of the door.
Locked.
Of course.
She looked at the keypad, frowning slightly.
No key.
No passcode.
“Great…” she muttered.
Still, she tried—random numbers, quick guesses.
Nothing.
After a few failed attempts, she sighed and slowly slid down, sitting on the floor.
Her arms wrapped around her knees as she stared blankly at the door.
Think, Elise… think.
Minutes passed.
Then suddenly—
She froze.
Her eyes lifted.
“…666?”
A thought clicked.
She stood up quickly and pressed the buttons.
6… 6… 6… 6.
A soft beep echoed.
And then—
Click.
The lock opened.
For a second, she just stared… then a small, proud smile appeared on her face.
“Of course,” she whispered.
“I am the smartest.”
She pushed the door open and stepped inside.
The house was… spotless.
Too spotless.
A faint, fresh scent lingered in the air, as if someone had just cleaned everything moments ago.
Her eyes scanned the room carefully.
Something felt off.
She took out her phone and clicked a few pictures.
Slowly, she moved toward the bedroom.
The walls were beautifully designed, almost warm… almost normal.
And there—
Photos.
Shelly and her boyfriend.
Smiling.
Happy.
Alive.
For a brief second, Elise felt a pinch in her chest.
Then reality returned.
She walked to the wardrobe and opened it.
Empty.
Completely empty.
Not a single piece of clothing.
Her brows furrowed.
“It’s like… she was going somewhere,” she murmured, taking another picture.
As she turned to leave—
Something caught her eye.
A small piece of cloth.
Half-hidden.
She stepped closer.
And froze.
Blood.
Her expression changed instantly.
Without wasting a second, she pulled out gloves, wore them carefully, and picked up the cloth.
She examined it closely, then sealed it into a forensic sample pouch.
A sharp, satisfied look crossed her face.
“Got you…”
She whispered under her breath.
Because Elise didn’t miss details.
Not even the smallest ones.
She moved into the kitchen.
Everything was clean.
Perfectly arranged.
Too perfect.
But then—
Drip… drip… drip…
Her eyes shifted to the tap.
Tiny drops of water were falling slowly into the sink, breaking the silence.
She stepped forward and tightened it.
The sound stopped.
Silence again.
She checked the cabinets one by one.
Empty.
Nothing unusual.
No clues.
She exhaled, slightly frustrated, and turned toward the door—
Then froze.
The handle moved.
A faint sound.
Someone was opening the door.
Her heartbeat spiked.
Without a second thought, she slipped behind the kitchen counter, pressing herself against the wall, barely breathing.
Footsteps.
Slow.
Heavy.
Coming inside.
She carefully leaned a little, just enough to see—
And her breath hitched.
A man.
Wearing normal clothes.
A mask covering his face.
But—
Those movements.
That presence.
Her eyes widened.
It’s him.
___________________________________
Sometimes the heart recognizes someone…
Before the eyes ever do.
— Shayarasehar