Invisible Strings II

Chapter 4: A Flicker

"Well, I've missed you," he says, with a small, awkward smile. "Coffee? The usual?"

"Please."

He starts preparing it while they talk. She tries to focus on him, on the mundane comfort of familiarity, but the scent keeps tugging at her attention. It coils around her, faint but insistent, like a memory she isn't sure she's allowed to have.

Hannah. It smells like- No. It can't be.

When Pete hands her the cup, she murmurs her thanks. Her steps toward the door are slower, heavier.

Isadora steps outside, coffee warming her hands, the cold biting through her coat. And then... the scent hits her again. Sharp. Familiar. Impossible.

It's too strong now, threading through the falling snow like it knows her name.

She tells herself she should ignore it. She has ignored it. But her claws are already threatening to slip free beneath her gloves, prickling against her palms.

She mutters, "It's not her," but her voice sounds thin, like even she doesn't believe it.

Still, she unlocks her car. Gets in. Sits. Breathes. But the scent grows denser, almost urging her forward, and before she can stop herself, she's following it down the quiet main street of Jericho.

And when she turns onto the historic strip, it slams into her. Not a whisper. Not a maybe. But a presence.

She parks without thinking, heart hammered up into her throat, and steps out into the snow. Pulling her fur-lined jacket tighter, she scans the street. And then she sees a flicker of blonde hair disappear into a small shop.

Her breath shudders.

No. It couldn't be. Hannah had no reason to be in Jericho. None.

But what if-

She crosses the snowy sidewalk slowly, every instinct inside her vibrating. She pushes open the door, a bell chiming softly overhead.

Her eyes catch a blonde head moving from one aisle into the next. Her chest tightens painfully.

She follows, step quiet, pulse loud, and turns the corner, "Hannah...?" she breathes.

The girl turns.

And it's not her.

Isadora's stomach drops so quickly that she feels dizzy.

"Oh... I'm sorry, I thought you were someone else," she murmurs, stepping back.

The blonde smiles awkwardly and walks past her.

Isadora exhales shakily and turns around to leave...

And that's when she sees her.

Hannah.

Standing at the end of the aisle.

For a moment, they're both frozen.

Hannah's brows knit, confusion softening her features. Why is Isadora here? She was supposed to be in that city three hours away. Hannah was on her way there...

"Isadora?" Hannah asks gently, tilting her head.

The sound of her name in that voice makes Isadora step back a fraction, breath catching. It is her. Not a trick of scent or memory. It's Hannah.

Isadora steps forward again without meaning to, hands lifting, then she forces them down, curling her fingers into her jacket instead.

"What are you doing here?" she asks, voice low, almost scolding in its shock. "You're supposed to be at your apartment. You're not supposed to be... here."