She did need a break—but the rest of the drive passed without incident.

  When Amelia merged onto the expressway and a road sign informed her she had just over fifty kilometers left, a chill slid through her body.

  She hadn’t been home in five years.

  She hadn’t seen her mother in five years.

  They spoke often. Amelia had invited her countless times - but her mother always found a good excuse not to come.

  But it wasn’t the meeting itself Amelia feared most.

  It was her body.

  She feared how it would react to memories she had buried deep—and she knew they would return. Every corner of Olsztyn meant something to her. Every street carried a story. And because she had been forced to live there for two years after the worst day of her life, most of those stories were painful.

  She couldn’t remember the good ones at all.

  As if someone had erased them deliberately.

  A few kilometers before the city, another thought surfaced—of a place where nothing bad had ever happened to her. A place she and her closest friends had returned to for years.

  Their hiding place from the world.

  The expressway was new, built close to the old national road. To reach the clearing, she would have to leave the road and find a narrow forest path on the right. The chances of finding it after so long were slim—but the decision had already been made.

  Once Amelia decided something, she rarely turned back.

  She slowed, scanning the roadside carefully. She passed a service exit and continued on.

  “There you are,” she whispered when she finally spotted it.

  The expressway had been cut deep into the hillside, partially blocking the old path. Luckily, a narrow road ran parallel to the highway. Less than a kilometer later, she turned onto it, driving along the ridge beside a dark wall of spruce trees.

  Within minutes, she stood before the gates of a better version of her past.

  The entrance looked almost closed off.

  For a moment, she felt relieved. Maybe the place had remained hidden after all.

  Her sports car wouldn’t make it far into the forest. She stepped out and walked ahead to check. It didn’t look disastrous—so she tried, inching forward, wincing each time branches scraped too close to the hood.

  She clenched her jaw.

  Brilliant choice, she thought bitterly. The old Volvo would’ve handled this just fine.

  The forest made the decision for her when a young but stubborn tree blocked the road completely.

  She stopped the engine and exhaled sharply.

  “Idiot,” she muttered—not at the forest, but at herself.

  She grabbed her leather backpack and the small picnic blanket she’d bought at the gas station and continued on foot.

  The path was barely used now. Trees had grown closer, narrowing it—or maybe she’d grown and the forest hadn’t changed at all. Either way, only animals passed through now. Perhaps mushroom pickers. Perhaps no one.

  The forest hummed above her. Sunlight broke through the canopy in scattered shards. The air was warm, the wind gentle. Despite lying near the city, the forest felt untouched.

  Amelia hadn’t felt this close to nature—or this safe—in years.

  Something about the place wrapped around her, as if trying to shield her from the world.

  She smiled without realizing it.

  After several minutes, the trees parted.

  A lake shimmered ahead. The clearing beyond it caught her breath.

  No cheap structures. No noise.

  The place had changed—but naturally. Shrubs heavy with hawthorn and bird cherry fruit wrapped the trunks of tall spruces. Two oaks that had once been saplings now stood tall, their branches forming what felt like a gate to another world.

  The clearing was smaller than she remembered. Once, a wide meadow had rolled down to the water like a wild, flower-filled tongue. Now grass appeared only in patches between young trees—except for one open space near the shore.

  She stepped closer.

  The water was perfectly clear, rippling softly in the autumn sun. Leaves drifted along the edge. Fish moved lazily beneath the surface. Ducks floated in the distance.

  She lay down on the blanket and stared up at the flawless blue sky.

  Listening to the forest breathe, she fell asleep.

  Her phone ringing woke her.

  Maja.

  Memories flooded her—laughter, summer, simplicity. For a moment, everything felt dangerously close.

  She let the phone ring once more before answering.

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  “You’re already here?” Maja’s voice buzzed with excitement.

  “I am,” Amelia said quietly. “But you’ll never guess where.”

  “Our place?”

  A pause.

  “You found it?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m coming.”

  The calm vanished instantly.

  She stared at her reflection in the water.

  She closed her eyes and breathed.

  What was, won’t return.

  What was, has no power now.

  The forest listened.

  When Maja arrived, they collided in a fierce embrace.

  “It’s so good to see you,” Maja whispered, crying.

  They finally pulled apart, smiling—one openly, the other with quiet concern.

  “How are you?” Majka asked.

  Amelia hesitated. Majka saw the exhaustion, the shadows—but not the pain she used to see.

  “Let’s sit,” Amelia said, leading her to the blanket.

  They talked. About work. About life. About how things had changed.

  Amelia spoke of leaving her job, of starting fresh, of finally loving her life. Majka laughed, teased her about the car, but pride shone through.

  Then she asked about Jacek and Sylwia—Majka stiffened. It was the one question she hadn’t wanted to hear.

  She looked away. Her jaw tightened. For a long moment, she said nothing, biting her lip as if holding something back.

  “You should have told him,” she said finally.

  Amelia frowned. “Told him what?”

  “The truth,” Maja replied quietly. “Maybe things would be different now. Maybe you’d still be together. Maybe happy. With a family.”

  Amelia let out a short, humorless breath.

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Am—”

  “No.” Amelia cut her off, her voice sharp but controlled. “How exactly do you imagine that? I’m probably the only woman in this country who has never even shaken a male client’s hand. That’s not eccentricity. That’s survival.”

  Maja stared at her, stunned.

  “But you said—”

  “I know,” Amelia said, forcing a faint smile, trying to soften the blow. “And no, it’s not tragic. It’s just… something I haven’t crossed yet.”

  She trailed off.

  The man from her dreams surfaced in her mind—the one who had haunted her sleep for over a month now. The same dream. Every night. Once pure terror. Now something else. Still frightening, but undeniably magnetic.

  A cool, almost pleasant shiver ran down her spine.

  Maybe soon, she thought. Maybe I’ll be brave enough.

  Maja’s mouth fell open. For a long moment, she didn’t know what to say.

  “I’m okay,” Amelia said softly. “Really. And I will be even better. I honestly believe that—even with everything that happened—I wouldn’t be where I am now if it hadn’t.”

  Maja covered her mouth. Tears spilled over again.

  “If I get dehydrated today, it’s your fault,” she laughed through sobs as she threw her arms around Amelia. “I’m so happy for you. So unbelievably happy.”

  She cried openly, clutching her friend.

  “Tell me what’s been going on with you,” Amelia said, smiling warmly.

  It was as if all the air went out of Maja at once.

  Something pricked sharply behind her eyes, in her chest. She blinked hard, closing one eye for a brief second, disoriented by the sudden rush of feeling. Neither of them knew exactly what it was—anger, grief, or perhaps envy. Envy that the source of so much shared tragedy had finally found her way forward, while the one who stayed behind had sunk deeper into the same old ground.

  Maja had never really let go of the past. Maybe she couldn’t. Maybe she didn’t want to. She had bound her life to their hometown, where—just like for Amelia—every street corner carried memory. But unlike Amelia, she had chosen to stay and live inside them.

  “It’s the same as always,” Maja said at last, staring somewhere between her feet.

  Amelia knew that wasn’t true. She could feel how much her friend was holding back—but she didn’t know how to reassure her. Didn’t know how to make her understand that nothing she said could hurt her now.

  “And you and Paul?” Amelia asked gently.

  Something shifted.

  Maja’s face softened, just a little.

  “Yes,” she said quietly.

  “I haven’t seen him in ages.”

  “He hasn’t changed,” Maja replied, a faint smile touching her lips. “He’s… kind. I honestly don’t know what I’d do without him.”

  The words surprised her as much as they did Amelia.

  For the first time, Maja realized how long she’d been living through other people’s pain—how carefully she’d avoided her own happiness, as if joy itself were a betrayal. As if loyalty meant standing still while everyone else learned to walk again.

  And suddenly, that loyalty felt less like devotion—

  and more like fear.

  They didn’t realize when night fell.

  It was a strange night—unnaturally dark. Only then did Amelia notice that the lake was no longer as hidden as she had believed. On the opposite shore, faint lights flickered in the windows of a house.

  She stared at them for a long moment.

  Not because they were beautiful. They weren’t. Just ordinary lights. And yet the feeling they stirred inside her was anything but ordinary.

  It was the sensation of being watched.

  Intense. Dark. And inexplicably alluring.

  There was no one there. No one but Maja.

  And yet the presence was undeniable.

  Calling to her.

  The air left her lungs all at once.

  For a heartbeat, panic threatened—but Maja stood beside her, calm, scanning the clearing without concern. Amelia forced herself to breathe.

  I must be imagining it.

  “We should head back,” she said suddenly. “I haven’t even been home yet. I wonder if Julia’s on call tonight. Maybe I can postpone the interrogation until tomorrow.”

  “It’s past nine already,” Maja replied. “Maybe she’ll let it go.”

  “I hope so.”

  They stood, folded the blanket, gathered their things. Amelia lingered for a moment, searching for her backpack, glancing once more at the lake—at the lights across the water—before turning away.

  When they finally reached their cars, they climbed inside without a word and slammed the doors shut.

  One last challenge remained.

  They had to reverse nearly half a kilometer down the narrow forest road, weaving through obstacles that had barely been manageable in daylight. As they feared, those few hundred meters stretched into something that felt endless.

  But somehow—miraculously—they made it out without a scratch and pulled onto the road, both exhaling in relief.

  “You’re staying the full four weeks?” Maja asked when they stopped to say goodbye.

  “Yes,” Amelia said. “I hope we’ll see each other often. I’ve missed you.”

  ?Sure we will.” Maja smiled, nodded, and drove off.

  Amelia sat alone in her car for a moment longer.

  Across the dark trees, in her mind’s eye, the lights on the opposite shore flickered again.

  And this time—

  she had the unsettling certainty that whatever it was had been waiting for her all along.