Mira stared at the phone screen.
Her heart was beating so fast it almost hurt.
The rooftop.
The drawing.
The memory.
It all suddenly connected.
"No… that's impossible," she whispered.
But the image in her mind was becoming clearer.
A tall building.
A quiet rooftop.
A railing.
The open sky above it.
The exact place where she had met him again two months ago.
Her fingers moved quickly across the phone screen.
"I think I remember the drawing."
His reply came almost immediately.
"What was it?"
Mira took a deep breath.
"It was a building," she typed.
Three dots appeared.
"A building?"
"Yes."
She continued slowly.
"With a rooftop."
The typing dots appeared again.
Then disappeared.
Then appeared again.
Finally, his reply came.
"What kind of rooftop?"
Mira closed her eyes again.
Trying to see the memory clearly.
She remembered drawing the railing first.
Then the open space.
Then the sky.
And one small detail.
A bench.
Her eyes opened suddenly.
"There was a bench on the rooftop."
For a few seconds, there was no reply.
Then his message appeared.
"Are you serious?"
Mira frowned slightly.
"Why?"
Another message appeared.
"Because the rooftop where we met…"
Her heart skipped.
He finished the sentence.
"…has a bench."
Mira felt chills run through her body.
She stood up slowly from the bed.
Walking toward the window.
Trying to calm the strange feeling growing inside her chest.
"This is too strange," she whispered.
Ten years ago…
She had drawn a rooftop she had never seen before.
And years later…
She met someone on that exact rooftop.
Her phone buzzed again.
"Mira."
"Yes?"
His next message appeared.
"Do you still have that notebook?"
Mira froze.
The notebook.
Her childhood sketchbook.
She hadn't thought about it in years.
But suddenly a memory appeared.
A small brown notebook.
With stickers on the cover.
"I think I still have it," she typed slowly.
His reply came quickly.
"Where?"
Mira thought for a moment.
Then remembered.
"There's an old box in my room," she wrote.
Another message appeared.
"Check it."
Her heart began beating faster again.
Because suddenly this didn't feel like a coincidence anymore.
Mira walked toward the corner of her room.
Where several old boxes were stacked.
She opened the first one.
Old books.
School papers.
Nothing important.
She opened the second one.
More old memories.
Photos.
Birthday cards.
Then she opened the third box.
Her breath stopped.
Because inside it was a small brown notebook.
Exactly the one she remembered.
Her hands trembled slightly as she picked it up.
The cover was slightly worn.
But the stickers were still there.
She slowly opened the first page.
Childish drawings filled the notebook.
Flowers.
Stars.
Random shapes.
She flipped the pages slowly.
Then suddenly—
She stopped.
Her heart skipped.
Because there it was.
The drawing.
A tall building.
A quiet rooftop.
A bench.
A railing.
Exactly the same.
Mira's hands began shaking.
Because one more thing was drawn on the page.
Two small stick figures.
Standing on the rooftop.
She stared at them.
One had long hair.
The other had short hair.
And above them…
Childish handwriting.
"Maybe we meet here one day."
Her breath caught.
Because the sentence was written in two different handwritings.
One was clearly her childish writing.
The other…
Was not hers.
Her phone buzzed again.
A message from him.
"Did you find it?"
Mira took a photo of the page.
Then sent it to him.
For a few seconds there was silence.
Then his message appeared.
"That handwriting…"
Mira's heart raced again.
"You recognize it?"
His reply came.
"Yes."
Her fingers trembled.
"Whose is it?"
There was a long pause this time.
Longer than before.
Then finally his message appeared.
"Mine."
Mira felt the world around her go silent.
Because that meant something impossible.
Ten years ago…
They hadn't just talked.
They had drawn that rooftop together.