(1317  words)

Thursday, May 15, 2025

The library was quiet that afternoon. The only sounds were the soft turning of pages, distant footsteps, and the gentle scrape of chairs across the floor. Alicia was sitting at the back, in one of the least noticeable corners, with several books spread across the table in front of her.

From a distance, there was nothing unusual about her.

A woman reading.

A teacher preparing lesson materials.

Someone simply spending time away from home.

That was exactly why she liked this place.

People trusted routines here.

During the past few weeks, Alicia had slowly created new routines for herself. She spent less time at home now, but not enough for anyone to question it. She still cooked sometimes. She still did the shopping. She still answered when someone spoke to her.

Just less than before.

Every week, she moved a little farther away from the rhythm of the apartment, one small step at a time, until her absence became normal.

Mark had stopped asking where she was going.

Leo barely noticed.

Only Michael still watched her carefully, although he rarely said anything.

Alicia opened the Italian book lying in front of her and quietly read the sentences once again.

Dov'è la stazione?

Quanto costa?

Non conosco nessuno qui.

Simple sentences.

Everyday words.

She already understood more than she admitted to herself.

Next to the books lay a small notebook filled with neat handwriting.

Vocabulary.

Verbs.

Notes.

Addresses.

Useful expressions she repeated silently while sitting alone in cafés or walking through the city.

The notebook was far more important than the books themselves.

That was why Alicia never took it home.

Instead, she kept it hidden inside the library, behind several large dictionaries on one of the highest shelves in the foreign languages section.

Nobody ever looked there.

Nobody paid attention to old grammar books or dusty language shelves.

At least, that was what she believed.

About twenty minutes later, Alicia stood up and calmly walked toward the bookshelves.

Emma was busy near the front desk, helping an elderly woman print something from a computer. The rest of the library remained as quiet as ever.

Alicia reached behind the dictionaries and carefully pulled out the notebook.

But something else moved with it.

A photograph slipped out and quietly fell onto the floor.

For the first time that day...

Alicia froze.

The photo was old.

Its corners were slightly bent.

Two teenage girls stood in front of a gray building.

Both were thinner.

Both looked much younger than Alicia remembered.

One of them was Alicia.

The other was Nina.

Slowly, Alicia bent down and picked up the photograph.

Her face remained calm.

But her fingers stopped moving completely as they held the edges of the picture.

Someone had placed it there.

Recently.

Carefully.

Deliberately.

She turned the photograph over.

Five words were written on the back in dark ink.

You can't disappear twice.

For several long seconds, Alicia simply stared at the sentence.

Around her, the library continued as if nothing had happened.

Someone coughed near the computers.

Pages turned.

Emma laughed quietly at something near the front desk.

But Alicia barely heard any of it.

Nina had found her.

Not just her name.

Not just her address.

The notebook.

The language books.

The hiding place behind the shelves.

That meant Nina had been watching her for much longer than Alicia had realized.

A strange feeling passed through her.

It wasn't exactly fear.

It was something closer to frustration.

A loss of control.

Someone had entered a place Alicia believed was private, organized, and completely safe.

She slowly slipped the photograph back into the notebook and closed it.

The plan would have to change.

Not completely.

Just move forward a little sooner.

Alicia calmly returned the books to their places, one by one.

This time, however, she kept the notebook with her instead of hiding it on the shelf again.

Then she walked toward the exit, passing Emma with the same polite expression she always wore.

Nothing on her face suggested that anything had happened.

Outside, the afternoon felt warmer than before.

Cars moved slowly along the street while people filled the sidewalks with ordinary conversations and familiar routines.

Alicia walked toward her car without rushing.

But her thoughts were moving much faster.

Nina won't stop now.

That was the problem with people from the past.

They carried old versions of you.

Versions that were supposed to stay buried.

Alicia unlocked her car and sat inside.

For several seconds, she did not start the engine.

Instead, her eyes slowly moved across the street.

Reflections in windows.

Parked cars.

Thoughtful faces.

She wasn't searching.

She was measuring.

She drove away.

She did not go straight home.

Instead, she spent almost two hours driving through different parts of the city without any clear destination.

A shopping center.

A gas station.

A quiet street near the train station.

Places where nobody paid attention to anyone else.

When she finally returned to the apartment building, the sky had already turned dark.

The lights inside the apartment were on.

Normal.

Predictable.

Alicia quietly unlocked the door and stepped inside.

She took off her coat.

The sound of the television came from the living room, mixed with distant voices.

Mark was sitting on the couch, watching something without really paying attention to it.

Leo was nearby, resting with a pair of headphones around his neck.

Everything looked ordinary.

Then Alicia noticed Michael.

He was sitting near the kitchen table with one arm resting on the back of a chair.

His expression was impossible to read.

He was not watching television.

He was not looking at his phone.

He was watching her.

Not openly.

Not aggressively.

Carefully.

For a brief moment, neither of them spoke.

Something cold and familiar passed through Alicia's mind.

Observation.

Recognition.

Michael looked away first.

But not quickly enough.

In that moment, Alicia understood something she had ignored for far too long.

Michael was paying attention now.

And once someone like him started noticing patterns...

He rarely stopped.

She walked calmly toward the kitchen, placing her handbag on the counter as if nothing had happened.

"Long day?" Mark asked from the living room without taking his eyes off the television.

"Yes," Alicia replied.

"School?"

"And a few other things."

Mark nodded.

He seemed satisfied with the answer.

Michael wasn't.

He stood up slowly and walked into the kitchen.

"You've been out a lot lately," he said.

His voice was calm.

Too calm.

Alicia looked at him.

"So have you."

He gave a faint smile.

"I asked first."

She returned the smile.

Barely.

"I had things to do."

"What kind of things?"

She opened a cupboard and took out a glass.

"Work."

Michael leaned lightly against the counter.

"You work part-time."

"That's true."

"So where do you spend the rest of your time?"

Alicia poured herself a glass of water before answering.

"Walking."

"Reading."

"Thinking."

Michael watched every movement she made.

"You've changed."

She took a sip of water.

"People do."

"You've changed quickly."

"No."

She shook her head.

"You've only started noticing."

Silence settled between them.

Neither of them looked away.

Finally, Michael spoke again.

"Are you hiding something?"

Alicia almost smiled.

"Aren't we all?"

The answer caught him by surprise.

For the first time, he had no reply.

Mark looked toward them from the living room.

"Is everything okay?"

"Everything's fine," Alicia answered before Michael could speak.

She sounded completely relaxed.

Mark accepted the answer and turned back to the television.

Michael remained where he was.

"You've been spending a lot of time at the library," he said quietly.

Alicia did not react.

"I like reading."

"You never used to stay there for so long."

She shrugged.

"People change."

"You keep saying that."

"Because it's true."

Michael crossed his arms.

"What are you reading?"

"Languages."

His eyes narrowed slightly.

"Why?"

"I enjoy learning."

"Since when?"

"For longer than you've noticed."

Again, silence.

It was different now.

Neither of them was really talking about books.

Or libraries.

Or languages.

They were measuring each other.

Carefully.

Patiently.

Trying to understand what the other person knew.

Alicia finished her water and placed the empty glass in the sink.

"I'm tired."

She picked up her bag.

"I'm going to bed."

Michael stepped aside to let her pass.

But before she reached the hallway, he spoke once more.

"Mom."

She stopped.

Without turning around.

"Yes?"

"I don't think you're telling us everything."

For a long moment, she remained completely still.

Then she smiled.

A small smile that nobody could see.

"When have I ever told anyone everything?"

Without waiting for an answer, she continued down the hallway.

She quietly closed the bedroom door behind her.

Only then did the smile disappear.

She opened her bag immediately.

The notebook.

The photograph.

She looked at the picture once more.

Then she turned it over.

You can't disappear twice.

Her fingers rested on the paper for several seconds.

Nina was getting closer.

Much closer.

And now Michael was beginning to notice things as well.

Neither of them knew enough yet.

But they were asking the right questions.

That made them dangerous.

Alicia slowly opened the notebook.

Several pages were filled with Italian vocabulary.

Others contained addresses.

Dates.

Lists.

Carefully written notes.

She looked at them one last time.

Then she quietly tore out several pages.

One after another.

She folded them neatly and placed them inside a separate envelope.

The rest of the notebook went back into her bag.

Nothing could be left behind anymore.

Nothing important.

She looked toward the bedroom window.

Outside, the city lights shimmered in the darkness.

Everything seemed peaceful.

Safe.

Normal.

But appearances could never be trusted.

Not anymore.

Alicia took a slow, steady breath.

The timetable had changed.

She had planned to leave quietly.

Carefully.

Step by step.

Now she would have to move faster.

Not because she wanted to.

Because she no longer had a choice.

She switched off the bedside lamp and sat quietly in the darkness.

For several minutes, she did not move.

She simply listened.

To the television in the living room.

To footsteps in the hallway.

To the ordinary sounds of a family that had no idea how close everything was to changing forever.

And for the first time in many years...

Alicia allowed herself one small mistake.

She wondered whether she was already too late.