A Waiting Stranger
The next morning, Emma couldn’t shake the feeling of unease as she made her way to work. The cryptic note still weighed heavily on her mind, and her eyes scanned the familiar street corner where the homeless man usually sat. He was there, wrapped in his gray blanket, the handmade sign resting at his side.
But something was different today.
His posture was more upright, his piercing eyes fixed on her as though he had been waiting. For the first time, Emma noticed the intensity in his gaze—calm yet deliberate, as if he carried a secret only she could unravel.
She hesitated for a moment before walking toward him. As she approached, he didn’t say a word, but his hand reached into the folds of his blanket. Emma’s heart raced as he pulled out another note, this time folded neatly, and handed it to her.
“Read it when you’re alone,” he muttered, his voice low but steady. His eyes flicked around the street as if searching for someone—or something.
Emma nodded, clutching the note tightly in her hand. She wanted to ask him questions, to demand answers about the previous note, but something in his demeanor stopped her. His expression wasn’t just one of gratitude; it was one of urgency.
“I need to go,” he said abruptly, standing and gathering his belongings. “But remember, Emma… not everyone is who they seem.”
Her stomach dropped. “Wait! How do you know my name?” she asked, her voice rising slightly.
But he was already moving, his figure disappearing into the crowded street. Emma stood frozen, her mind racing with questions she couldn’t begin to answer.
At work, Emma waited until she was alone in the breakroom to open the note. Her hands trembled slightly as she unfolded the paper. This time, the writing was more deliberate, as if he had taken his time.
“They’re watching you. The man in the gray coat—he knows. Don’t trust him.”
Her breath hitched as she read the words. The man in the gray coat. She wracked her brain, trying to think of who it could be. A coworker? Someone on her route to work?
Suddenly, a flash of recognition hit her. Mark—her team leader—had worn a gray coat yesterday when he casually placed coffee on her desk. Could it be him?
The thought sent chills down her spine, and she stuffed the note into her bag, her mind spiraling with paranoia.
