Damon

Nobody noticed when she arrived. Perhaps because the rain was too heavy, or because the city was already used to ignoring anything that hurt. But there she was, standing under the broken lamppost, with a suitcase far too small for someone who seemed to be carrying so much. There was something in her eyes that didn't fit the place—it wasn't fear, it was caution. Like someone who had already learned that trust comes at a high price. Across the street, someone was watching. Not out of curiosity. But that arrival stirred up a past that should have been buried. He clenched his jaw, without taking his eyes off her, and murmured almost to himself: So… you really did come back. The problem is that secrets never stay buried forever. They wait. And that night, finally, they decided to wake up.