Kai sat quietly in the backseat as the car slowed near the address Ryan had mentioned. The lane was narrow and lined with uneven cobblestones, the kind that carried the silence of forgotten stories. The driver pulled over and turned slightly.
"We've reached, sir," he said softly.
Kai gave a small nod, pushing open the door, and he stepped out. The air was different here, heavy, still, and filled with anxious murmurs. Somewhere in the distance, a dog barked, but even that sound faded quickly, swallowed by the quiet unease that lingered over the place.
He adjusted the mask on his face, pulled his cap lower, and made sure his dark goggles hid his identity completely. This wasn't Kai Arden, not the flawless actor adored by millions.
This was just Kai, a man trying to outrun the noise inside his own head. His hoodie hung loosely over his frame, his jeans faded, and his sneakers scuffed, an ordinary man dressed to disappear.
As he approached the small, old-fashioned house Ryan had mentioned, he saw a cluster of people gathered near the front door. They were neighbors, middle-aged men and women, murmuring in worried tones, exchanging glances filled with fear and fatigue.
"Is this the issue Ryan talked about?" he wondered, stepping closer.
Someone was knocking repeatedly on the door. "Please open up!" a man shouted, his voice cracking with frustration. Another woman added, "It's been three days!"
Kai stopped near the gate, confusion spreading across his face. Three days? What could make someone shut the world out for so long?
From his right, an elderly woman, maybe in her sixties, walked forward with slow, trembling steps, her eyes red from worry. "She didn't open the door again?" she asked softly.
"No… not today either," another neighbor replied, shaking his head.
Kai turned toward her, his tone gentle and respectful. "What happened?" he asked. "Is someone inside?"
The old lady looked up at him, her face lined with exhaustion and a kind of sadness that only comes from caring too deeply. "She locked herself for three days," she said, voice breaking. "Hasn't eaten anything. I come every day, leave food at her door… hoping she'll take it. But she doesn't."
Kai frowned, glancing at the old, faded door. The paint was chipped, the handle scratched from repeated knocks. "No one's inside with her?" he asked.
"No one," the woman replied. "She's alone."
Kai's mind flickered through possibilities: maybe a girl with anxiety, or heartbreak, or someone struggling silently. "Is she a kid?" he asked, trying to sound calm.
The woman shook her head slowly. "No, she is in her twenties."
Kai hummed under his breath, eyes narrowing behind his glasses. Heartbreak, he thought. Maybe another person who lost someone and couldn't move on.
After a pause, he spoke again. "What's her name? Maybe I can try talking to her. Sometimes strangers listen better than people they know."
The woman hesitated. She studied him for a moment, his gentle tone, his patient expression, and then sighed. "Her name is… Alina Carter."
And just like that, everything inside him stopped. The world tilted. The air thickened.
For a moment, Kai forgot how to breathe. His heart slammed against his ribs, Alina…
His hand froze halfway to his pocket. The name echoed in his mind, sharp and familiar, carving through every layer of composure he had built. He swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry.
The moment the old lady spoke the name, Alina Carter, it was as if the world around Kai shifted. His body froze. His mind refused to accept what he had just heard. No… it can't be… He shook his head subtly, his eyes narrowing behind the goggles. There wasn't just one girl in the world named Alina Carter, in her early twenties. There could be others. It must be someone else.
She can't be… my Alina… the thought echoed relentlessly in his mind.
His heart pounded against his chest as he took a hesitant step forward. Each movement felt heavy, as if the ground itself were pulling him back. No… It's impossible… it can't be her.
Yet, part of him couldn't ignore the nagging thought that maybe… just maybe, it was the same Alina. And if it is… then... His fingers clenched lightly at his sides, his knuckles turning white. He didn't know what to say, how to act. His mind raced with memories, unspoken words, and the weight of the past pressing down on him.
Every step toward the door was filled with uncertainty, disbelief, and a strange, aching fear. What if it really was her?
His gaze fell on the door again, tightly shut, as if guarding her from the world and perhaps from him. Kai's chest tightened, a mixture of hope and dread swirling together. He took another careful step forward, trying to steady his racing thoughts.
Alina… he whispered under his breath, barely audible, like calling out her name might somehow confirm the truth or shatter it entirely.
For the first time in a long while, Kai Arden felt completely powerless. The girl behind that door, the girl who could be his Alina, had no idea he was there, and he had no clue how to reach her.
His hand trembled as he pulled off his goggles. The world came into sharper focus, and yet it felt distant, blurry with disbelief. The murmurs of the crowd faded into a dull hum. All he could see was that door. That closed door separates him from her.
Three days… locked in… not eating… The thought sent a sharp ache through his chest.
His voice dropped, almost a whisper meant only for himself. "Alina…"
For a long moment, Kai just stood there frozen between fear and hope, guilt and love.
Every second stretched like eternity. The wind brushed against his hoodie, and his heartbeat echoed louder in his ears.
The woman beside him called out again, knocking softly. "Alina, dear… please open the door."
Kai stared at the door, his mind repeating her name again and again. Alina. The girl who had walked out of his life without a word. And now, she was right there… just a few steps away.
But between them stood that one wooden door and everything unsaid.
Alina? The name echoed inside his head like a whisper torn between disbelief and longing. Was it really her? The same girl who vanished from his life without a trace, the same person whose absence had shaken the very core of his existence, the one who had left his world hollow, colorless, incomplete
No… no, it can't be. Kai's breath caught in his throat, and his pulse quickened painfully. Every heartbeat seemed to echo louder than the voices around him. The crowd shifted back, making space, murmurs fading into the background until there was only silence and him. Only him, standing in front of the closed door.
He stared at it as if it could answer him, as if it could tell him whether fate was playing another cruel joke. Slowly, his hand rose, hesitant, trembling slightly. His fingers brushed against the rough wood. He hesitated for a moment, afraid that even the smallest sound might break the fragile thread of hope holding him together.
Then, he knocked. Once soft, almost uncertain. A knock that carried the weight of every sleepless night, every unspoken word, every ache he had buried inside. His breath trembled. He swallowed hard and knocked again, a little firmer this time.
With each knock, his heartbeat grew louder, faster. His chest tightened, and it felt like the air around him was getting thinner. He wanted to say her name, to call her out, to break the distance that had built between them, but his throat refused to cooperate. It felt tied in knots, as if invisible wires had wrapped around it, holding his voice captive.
"Al…" he tried, but the sound broke halfway. His voice cracked under the weight of emotion. He shut his eyes for a brief second, forcing the lump in his throat down, and tried again.
"Alina…" This time, it came out low, raw, trembling. The name escaped his lips like a prayer, fragile yet filled with desperate hope.
And for that one second, the world seemed to stop. His hand rested on the door, his forehead lowered against it, his breath shallow. Please… just answer me, he thought. Even if it's anger, even if it's hate, just say something.
But there was only silence. And in that silence, Kai felt everything: the ache of longing, and the unbearable truth that the one person who once brought light into his world was now hiding behind this very door, shutting him out completely.
It was almost cruel how close she was, yet so impossibly far. The third time Kai raised his hand to knock, the door flew open. Before he could even process it, a blur of movement came rushing toward him.