He was on his way back from college, heading straight to her house to check if she was doing better. Thoughts of her kept looping in his mind—her guarded words, her sudden mood changes—and he found himself mumbling, wondering if this was truly concern… or something deeper he didn't want to name yet.
Halfway there, he caught sight of her. She was moving quickly down the street, her face tense, her steps sharp—anger and distress radiating from her every movement.
"Where is she going? She's not well yet… I should follow her." He muttered under his breath, picking up his pace.
But by the time he reached the corner, she was gone—vanished as if the street had swallowed her whole.
"What happened to her?" His voice was low, uneasy.