The city lay behind a sea of silent lights that stretched endlessly beneath the chilly sky, and the night was calm. As I turned, my muscles tensed reflexively at the sight of him, and the wind rustled through my garments with a slight shiver.
Mark.
His face was partially in shade as he stood a few meters away, just out of the faint streetlamp's reach. Seeing him here, on this bridge—this location of endings—had an unsettling quality. It was impossible to determine whether he was amused or dead serious because of the same unreadable expression on his face.
My stance remained neutral, but my mind raced. Why now? Why here?
"What are you doing here?" My voice came out steady, calm.
Mark took a slow step forward, hands in his pockets. "I told you, didn't I? That I'd find you."
I stayed silent, watching him closely. There was something off about this—something deliberate. He wasn't here by coincidence.
