Chapter 5 Impressions That Linger

ETHAN'S POV: Quiet Echoes

The engine purred beneath Ethan as he pulled out of the university parking lot, the late afternoon sun flaring briefly in his rearview mirror. His hand rested loosely on the steering wheel, but his mind wasn't on the road. It was on the girl he'd just met-Maya. The one who bumped into his car and then unraveled in apology like she owed the world something more than just a dent.

She'd seemed flustered, almost too careful with her words. But what struck him most was the way her eyes held a kind of heaviness-like someone who carried too much but didn't say anything about it. There was something poised about her too, even under stress. Most people would've panicked or gotten defensive. She'd just owned it.

He smirked faintly to himself. "You seem very... precise," he'd said. And she'd winced at that, as if the idea of not being perfect bothered her more than the accident itself.

By the time he got home, the city had turned golden. His home stood tall and pristine, a building carved from glass and silence. He stepped inside, greeted by stillness. Sasha wasn't around-probably gone for the day. No scent of food, no low hum of the kettle, no footsteps padding softly in slippers. Just silence.

He set his bag down, flicked on a light. The kitchen gleamed, untouched. He opened the fridge and spotted the neatly labelled containers Sasha always left when she knew Chloe wouldn't be home-jollof rice, grilled chicken, and a side of steamed vegetables. He microwaved them without thought, listening to the faint hum of the appliance.

He ate at the counter, fork moving rhythmically, eyes not really seeing the food. Instead, he saw Maya's face-her lips parted slightly when she'd panicked, the way she pulled down her sleeves nervously, the soft brush of their fingers when she handed him her phone.

He pulled out his phone now, staring at the contact.

Maya (Law Girl).

"Let me know when you want to sort the car thing."

Deleted it.

Then:

"Hope you got home okay."

Deleted that too.

He sighed and set the phone down. He didn't want to come off like every other guy who saw a pretty girl and got distracted. But this didn't feel like a crush. Not yet. It felt like curiosity, deepening like a slow inhale.

He walked to the window, a tall glass window that looked out over the city. The skyline blinked with a hundred scattered lights. Somewhere out there, Maya was probably replaying the same interaction. Or maybe not.

Ethan didn't know why she stayed on his mind, but she did.

And that was new.

MAYA'S POV: Between Worlds

The streetlights outside Maya's room cast long, pale bars across her wall. She lay still on her bed, curled slightly to one side, arms wrapped around a pillow.

She should've been asleep.

But every time she closed her eyes, she saw his face-Ethan's calm expression, the unexpected softness in his voice.

It wasn't that he was stunning-though, okay, he kind of was-but it was something else. He didn't make a big deal out of the accident. He didn't condescend. And he hadn't laughed at her panic. He just... handled it.

And it made her feel seen in a way she wasn't ready for.

Her eyes flicked toward her desk. The olympus camera sat there like a question mark, angled slightly, its lens cap still on. When she first received it at the age of six from her grandma, the camera felt like a sister she never had. It gave her companionship and she was able to see the world around her in a different way her eyes could do. After the divorce between her parent. She was so much attached to both of her parent but she had to choose one. And her father, who was the cause of the divorce, because of the affairs he had with his secretary, never wanted her, he never asked or fought for her. He chose his girlfriend over his family and never cared. The camera got her through painful moments – her quiet companion during those years in Nigeria.

She moved to Nigeria after her parent's divorce, when she was six.

When she was nine, just when life started to feel okay, her mother pulled her back to London. Probably because of a fight or misunderstanding between her mum and grandma but she never knew what really happened. Not even now. No explanation. No room for argument. She'd cried, begged, screamed-but Helen never looked back. Her mom doesn't listen. She never listens to her.

Unfortunately, and sadly, her grandma passed three months later.

No goodbye. No final hug. Just silence.

It broke her heart. She wanted more time with grandma but her mom denied her of it. And she couldn't get her mind off the fact that her grandma was fit and okay when she left her and Nigeria and after three months, boom, she's dead.

Well, that chapter had closed itself. Or maybe she'd closed it first, before it could break her heart more than it already had.

She closed her eyes-and drifted.

DREAM SEQUENCE:

Dim light filters through gauzy curtains. Dust floats in golden shafts.

Her grandmother stands in the center of the room, holding a camera-but her eyes are hollow, haunted. She's trying to say something, but her lips don't move.

Then, two blindfolded men appear. They seize her grandmother by the arms and start dragging her backward into shadow.

"Grandma!" Maya screams. "Don't take her! Don't-"

Her grandmother turns back, eyes red like blood, filled not with fear but disappointment.

Maya runs after them into the dark-but the room swallows everything.

Silence.

Alone.

Then- an icy wind brushes her neck. A bright flash. And blackness.

Maya jerked upright in bed, heart pounding.

Her room was cold and still.

She sat there, breathing heavily, trying to calm herself. The dream was always the same – her grandmother's eyes, the flash of light, the feeling of something being left behind.

It was the third time she'd had the dream in recent weeks and she wasn't sure she could ignore it any longer.

She didn't believe in dreams. Not really. But something about this one felt... urgent. Like a whisper growing louder. She didn't know what it meant. But it was speaking. And this time, she was going to listen.