Chapter 1: Arrival

There’s a gentle, modulated voice whispering somewhere in the dark. I can feel the vibration of the words, but I can’t make out their meaning. There’s a sense of warmth and comfort and a smell like late summer evening surrounding me. I turn in circles, trying to see him, but all I can make out are towering trees in the fog.

I feel small and alone.

I begin to run in the direction of the voice, but when it calls again it’s behind me. Or to the left. I turn again, feeling tears prick my eyes. The forest is so silent; all I can hear is the voice calling. It’s soft and calm, but there’s a sense of urgency I can’t understand. I want to keep up—to choose the right path—but I’m lost.

I wake to the feeling of cool glass against my face and groan. The rocking of the train must have lulled me to sleep.

The dream is always the same. It’s my third birthday and the sun has just set. I wandered away from the party and deep into the forest that surrounded our house. It’s huge, in the way all things are huge to a child. I can hear my father’s voice, calm despite the situation, as he calls to me.

In reality, he found me after only 20 minutes and brought me back to the party. I remember him kissing my forehead as he said, in his thick accent, “Princess, you can’t wander the forest alone. Don’t you know, that’s where the monsters wait?” I had wiped my tears on his shirt in an attempt to hide them, and he’d pretended not to notice.

In the dream, he never makes it to me. I just hear his voice, whispering from a distance, as though he’s trying to guide me from somewhere far away. I’ve been having the dream ever since he died, just six months after that birthday party, but it’s never been this frequent.

The train shudders and rocks as it slows its way into the station. I’ve been seeing my father every night since my 21st birthday, over a month ago. It’s been a long time since I’ve thought about him. Mother doesn’t like when I bring him up, so I learned not to. I hardly remember him anymore, but that one memory stays clear. That memory and his kind, dark eyes.

When I step onto the platform I’m immediately jostled in the crowds, and I have to will myself forward. I’ve never been in crowds like this, and mother warned me that I wouldn’t be able to handle it.

“Chicago is too big for you,” she said. The way she’d eyed my short frame when she spoke made me feel small. She’s always been able to make me feel small.

I hold my own through the crowd and into Union Station, but once I’m inside I forget everything I’ve studied on the maps of the building. It’s truly huge. The crowds move so quickly and with such confidence that I immediately doubt myself. I stand against a wall, out of the way, and try to get my bearings.

I’m farther from home than I’ve ever been before with nothing but a duffle bag full of clothes and a few sentimental items to my name. The sense of excitement and anxiety is a heady mix. I’m also on my own for the first time, and I’m determined to prove I can take care of myself.

The decision to go away wasn’t an easy one—going against mother’s wishes never is. Really, the suddenness of the decision and how quickly I had made arrangements to leave surprised me as much as anyone. The urge to leave possessed me so thoroughly that I felt like I would lose my mind if I didn’t do it.

I have always planned to go to college, but there are perfectly good schools much closer to home. It’s hard to describe why I travelled over 1,500 miles away. Wanderlust, I suppose.

I still have a few days before classes start, but I’m excited to meet my new roommate and explore campus. I’m especially excited for the library.

I’ve always loved the musty, vanilla scent of old books and the quiet you can only find amongst the shelves. If I can make a living in that world, at least I know I’ll be in my element. I’ve always been a bit too quiet and reserved.

I watch the crowd for a few minutes before following the flow. They should at least be heading towards the street, and from there I can get a cab or call for a ride. I should probably try to get a bite to eat too, I don’t want to get lightheaded.

Once I’m up the stairs, I follow my nose towards the smell of coffee. As I stand in line, I feel a shiver run up my spin—the kind my grandmother always said came from someone walking over your grave. It makes goosebumps rise across my arms. I try not to react to it, but I feel myself go stiff. I can’t shake the feeling that I’m in danger.

I look around me as much as I can without being too obvious, and I catch the sight of three men standing a few dozen yards from me. They’re talking amongst themselves, but there’s no doubt they’re all watching me. The intensity on their faces confuses and frightens me. I glance at the people in line ahead of me, then back at the three strangers. My instincts are screaming at me to run.

It’s hard to see the details of their faces— still, I can sense their eyes following me as I approach the coffee counter and it makes me go pale. I don’t know how I know, but I feel it as one of the men begins to step away from the others, coming towards me.

I glance over my shoulder, and sure enough, the blonde is closing in on me. My blood feels like ice as my adrenaline spikes. Irrationally, I think that he’s going to attack me. That would be crazy in broad daylight, in a crowded public place, but that doesn’t calm my nerves at all.

I’m frozen, not sure what to do.

“Miss! Your order?”

I startle as the employee behind the counter calls out to me. I hadn’t even noticed the two people ahead of me had ordered and moved aside already.

“I’m so sorry,” I say softly, hurrying closer to the counter. “Can I please get a large caramel macchiato?”

“Name?” she asks, sounding bored.

“Lidia,” I say. I glance over my shoulder and see the blonde man still approaching me. Normally I’d be embarrassed for annoying this woman and holding up the line. Right now, all I can think about is the man steadily moving toward me.

“Anything else?” Her tone draws my eyes back to her.

“No, thank you.” I give her what I hope is an apologetic smile.

“$2.39.”

I hand her my card and look over my shoulder again. With the way I keep glancing between the man and the barista, I must look paranoid.

She hands my card back and motions for me to go to the other end of the counter. I go quickly, happy to put any extra distance between myself and the blonde man. I move closer to the other customers in the hopes that their proximity will deter him from approaching me.

He’s only a few yards away when he stops mid-step. There’s a sound, very far away, but it’s clear; a throaty voice speaking a language I don’t know, in a tone that is clearly a warning.

My hearing has always been more acute than most, but this is different. This feels unnatural, as if I’m not really hearing it with my ears. It’s like the voice is just there, floating across my consciousness. I’m focusing so hard on trying to understand it, that I start to feel like I’m disconnected from my body.

The blonde man locks eyes with me, and the voice comes again, firm this time, and in a tone that clearly carries a threat. The man stands stock still for several moments, just looking at me. It’s probably the adrenaline, but I swear his eyes are glowing with rage as he stares me down.

“Lidia.”

I jump and whirl towards the voice to find the barista placing my coffee on the counter. She gives me a quizzical look before returning to her work. I turn back towards the man, but he’s gone. All three of them are gone. I only looked away for a moment.

I take my coffee, the heat of the cup in my palm bringing me fully back into my own body. There’s no sign that the three strange men were ever there, but I’m not going to wait around for them to come back.

I rush to the street, checking my surroundings constantly. There are cabs lined up outside of the station and I rush to the nearest one. The driver nods to me and I practically throw myself into the back seat and slam the door. I let my head fall back against the headrest and sigh. The feeling of being watched is finally fading, though it isn’t gone completely.

“You alright little lady?” the cab driver asks, turning in his seat to look at me. I nod and smile weakly. “If you say so.” He looks me over once, then turns back to the road and pulls away from the curb.