Lena stayed in the shadows, watching carefully. The street was quieter now, but the air still felt tense. A strange feeling crawled over her skin, warning her to be careful. Right now, her instincts were the only thing keeping her safe.
A small group stood near the church entrance, speaking in low voices. Their backs were turned, and the dim light made it impossible to see who they were. Lena moved closer without making a sound.
"…I still can't believe how easy it was," a man said quietly.
A soft chuckle followed. "She never even saw it coming."
"Poor girl," a woman added. "Dead and buried without knowing what happened."
Lena froze.
Her heart slammed hard against her chest.
They were talking about her.
And they were sure she was dead.
From the corner of her eye, she noticed the same man from earlier, standing against a wall and watching the area silently. She didn't know who he was or why he was still there, and she quickly looked away.
She slipped behind a pillar and focused on the voices again. She still couldn't see their faces—only shadows moving under the weak streetlight. That made it worse. More frightening. More mysterious.
She knew she couldn't confront them. Not yet. Not without understanding their plan.
For now, she stayed hidden.
Watching. Listening. Learning.
Step by step, she would uncover the truth.
And one day, the people who buried her would realize she was never truly gone.