She arrived at the city from her village. At the train platform, she looked around, feeling overwhelmed by the crowd; it was her first time in such a big, bustling city.
She climbed into a taxi and stared out the window, watching the sky. The city seemed enormous, alien, and a little frightening. Despite the sights, her face remained serious, thoughtful, as if she carried a thousand questions in her mind.
The taxi stopped near a crowded market. She stepped out, weaving through people, slowly walking, searching for the apartment address she had. Her eyes scanned the stalls and streets. Finally, she approached a local shopkeeper.
"Excuse me," she asked politely. "Can you help me find… uh… Apartment 34A?"
The old man squinted at her. "Just turn right where the colony starts. You can't miss it."
She nodded and walked through the narrow lanes of the colony until she reached a small building. She entered and found herself face-to-face with the owner, a middle-aged lady.
"Which apartment have you rented?" the lady asked, her eyes curious.
"I… I didn't rent it," she said quietly. "Apartment 34A was bought by my father. I've come here to live."
The lady's eyes widened. "Are you… Mr. Lee's daughter?"
She nodded.
"And… what is your name?" the lady asked.
Anne ..replied softly.
The lady led her up the stairs, talking as they walked. "Your father… he was a good man. Helped me so much when I was suffering because of my husband. He even lent me money when my children were sick. I never had the chance to repay him."
She fell silent, her eyes misty.
Anne opened the apartment door. Dust coated every surface, cobwebs hung from the ceiling, and the furniture looked abandoned for years. She stepped inside, taking in the scene.
The lady's voice broke the silence. "Where is your father? Will he come? It's been fifteen years since he last checked this place."
Anne looked around and murmured, "He… he died in an accident fifteen years ago."
The lady gasped, stepping back. "What?! How… when?" She shook her head, her voice trembling. "Oh, my child… if you need anything, anything at all, tell me. I couldn't repay your father, but I want to repay you…"
"No need, aunty," Anne interrupted gently. "If I need anything, I'll ask for help myself."
The lady smiled faintly. "You are just like him… strong. Well, if you ever need anything, I live downstairs." She left.
Alone, Anne wandered through the dusty apartment, opening a window and whispering to the city beyond, "Where are you?"
She started cleaning. Later, while cooking, she called her grandfather.
"Be careful," he warned. "This city… it has many bad people."
She smiled softly. "I will, Grandpa. Don't worry."
After dinner, she sat on the couch, surveying the apartment. Dust covered every surface. The furniture was old, webs draped over chairs. One of the two rooms was locked. She stared at it, then retrieved a hammer from the kitchen and forced it open.
Inside was a dark room. Papers littered the table, pinned to a board were photographs, notes, and clippings. A framed photo of her and her father sat on the table. She picked it up, memories flooding back.
She was ten years old again. Her father, a detective, had just returned from work. Her mother had died giving birth to her. Her grandfather was teaching her martial arts. Suddenly, her father's voice boomed:
"Who wants chocolate?"
She laughed and ran to him, hugging him tightly.
Back in the present, Anne placed the frame on the table and started tidying the room. As she arranged papers, one sheet caught her eye: photographs of certain people, addresses, and notes. She selected the sheet she found useful and stored it safely in a drawer. Exhausted, she lay down and drifted into a deep sleep.
In her dream, the past returned. Her father had arrived one night, looking terrified, hurriedly packing his things. Her grandfather asked, "What happened? Where are you going?"
"I have to go to the city," he said, voice tight. "I have something important to do. I'll call you when it's done. Take care of Anne."
He bent down, kissed the little Anne on her forehead. "Be good with your grandfather." Then he left.
Five years later, he called: "I'm coming."
__ had been overjoyed. Her father was finally coming! She had so many questions, so many things to say. But he never arrived.
Suddenly, the phone rang at her grandfather's house. The police called with terrible news. Her father had been in an accident eight stations beyond the village , near a dam. His car caught fire, and he was burned beyond recognition. The officer explained that the official report claimed he had been drinking.
Her grandfather shouted, furious and heartbroken, "My son never drank! How could this happen? He was coming by train!"
The officer spoke calmly. "Sir… he rented the car."
The body was wheeled in front of her grandfather. Anne noticed something strange—the hands didn't match. She ran forward, pulled the blanket aside, and saw her father's charred face.
She woke up with a start, drenched in sweat, gasping for air, heart racing. The memory of her father's final moments haunted her as she sat upright in bed, trembling.....