Nicole's body stiffened as she watched Leo, her eyes darting around for anything that could double as a weapon.
Her hands were bunched into fists, her nails digging into her palms, as if ready to defend herself if it came to that.
Her breathing was shallow and controlled, but her heart was another story altogether, racing, thundering against her chest like some warning drum.
She had seen enough in her life, either on TV or in reality, in whispered cautionary tales, to understand that when a man shows up uninvited in the dead of night, trouble is usually not very far behind.
"What do you want?" Her voice was sharp, her tone designed to slice through any pretense. She stepped back instinctively, angling herself closer to a discarded plank she had spotted earlier.
Her body was tense, coiled, ready to act.
Leo raised his hands quickly, palms outward, a universal gesture of peace but there was still something about his calm demeanor that unsettled her. "Relax," he said, his voice low and controlled, a faint smirk curling his lips. "I'm not here to hurt you."
That smirk was like a match to her already raw nerves. Her mind churned with thoughts, and her fear morphed into something sharper, anger.
She frowned at him, her eyebrows furrowing. "Then why are you here? Following me, lurking around in the middle of the night? You expect me to believe this is some innocent coincidence?"
Leo looked around, his eyes settling for a moment on the dark, dismal surroundings before returning to her.
"You know," he said with an almost playful curl to his voice, "this isn't exactly the safest spot for someone like you to spend the night. A beautiful woman. alone."
Nicole's stomach churned. The insinuation in his words made her fists tighten further, her feet edging toward the plank behind her. Her lips parted to spit out a retort, but before she could, he added, "Look, I'm here to apologize. That's all."
"Apologize?" she snapped, her voice laced with suspicion. "For what? For accusing me of making your grandmother cry? For humiliating me in front of her?"
"Yes," he said simply, his voice softening. "I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions. It was wrong of me, and. I realize now that you were only trying to help her."
Nicole's body didn't immediately relax, though his words carried sincerity that she hadn't expected.
She scrutinized him further for any hint of deception. "And why should I believe you?" she asked accusingly, narrowing her eyes.
He let out a small sigh and ran a hand through his hair, looking for a moment frustrated. "Because it's the truth," he said.
"My grandmother told me everything. She... she's not well. Dementia, you know? Sometimes she forgets where she is, who people are, but last night, she remembered. She remembered you or at least, she thought she did. That's why I'm here. To apologize for being... an ass."
Nicole leaned her head to one side, fascinated by how his features softened when he spoke about his grandmother. She wanted to discard his words, hold onto her anger, but there was something so disarming about his honesty.
Still, she was not going to go all the way with letting her guard down.
"Well," she said, crossing her arms, "apology accepted. Now you can leave." She nodded toward the empty street, hoping he would take the hint and go.
But he didn't move. Instead, he stood there, hands stuffed into his pockets, looking almost. hesitant.
"That's not all," he admitted after a moment, his voice softer now.
Nicole was losing her patience. "What do you mean, 'that's not all'? What more could you possibly have to say?"
Leo looked away, as if collecting his thoughts. He gestured to the bench she'd been using for a bed. "Mind if I sit?"
"Yes, I do," she said, and didn't move an inch.
He chuckled low, the quiet sound grating on her nerves, before he nodded almost in defeat. "Fair enough," he said. "I'll make this quick, then. My grandmother-she hasn't stopped talking about you since last night."
Nicole blinked, her brow furrowed in confusion. "What?"
He took a step closer, his movements slow and deliberate, careful not to spook her. "She keeps calling for you," he said, his voice tinged with something almost like awe. "Well, not you exactly. She keeps calling for Jennifer."
Nicole's breath hitched at the name. She remembered the old woman's hands on her face, the way she had whispered that name with such conviction. Jennifer.
"Jennifer?" Nicole echoed, barely above a whisper.
Leo nodded. "Yeah. She's been saying the name nonstop, calling for her, crying out in her sleep. She refuses to eat unless." He hesitated, as though unsure how to phrase his next words.
"Unless what?" Nicole prompted, her voice sharper now.
"Unless she sees you."
The words hung in the air between them, heavy with implication. Nicole stared at him, her mind racing. "Wait," she said slowly, trying to piece it together. "Unless she sees me? Or... Jennifer?"
Leo hesitated; his jaw clamped tight for a second before he spoke. "Honestly. I don't know. She's convinced that you are Jennifer. She's not letting it go."
Nicole felt a cold shiver running down her spine. It was as if the weight of his words leaned upon her chest, and she could hardly breathe.
She remembered the old woman's touch, her eyes brimming with tears, but something else that was deeper, more haunting.
"Who is Jennifer?" Nicole asked, her voice steady, though there was a storm brewing inside her.
Something dark and painful crossed Leo's features, and his expression altered. He opened his mouth to say something, then shut it, unable to find the words.
Nicole watched him closely-the moving of his hands, restless, at his sides, his gaze darting with some suppressed emotion.
It wasn't sadness; it was also guilt and anger, and then something else that she wasn't quite sure about.
"She was." he started, emotion thick in his voice. "my mother."
Nicole's eyes went round, but she didn't say anything, waiting for him to keep going.
"She died in a car accident," he said, a heavy laced into his tone, weighing down his words, his pain. "It was. sudden. Violent. One of those things you never really get over, you know?"
Nicole nodded slowly, but she didn't know, really.
"She had left the house that day after a fight with my father," Leo continued, his voice now distant, as though he were reliving the memory. "They argued a lot back then. He blamed her for leaving when she did… say it wouldn't have happened if she'd just stayed home. But it wasn't her fault. It was an accident. Just... an accident."
Nicole could hear the bitterness in his voice, the way it lingered like a wound that had never fully healed. She wanted to say something, to offer some kind of comfort, but the words wouldn't come.
Instead, she asked the question that had been gnawing at her since the beginning. "And your grandmother… she thinks I'm her?"
Leo met her gaze, his expression torn. "She's certain of it," he said. "She hasn't been this-clear, in years. It's like seeing you flipped some switch in her mind, brought back something she thought she'd lost forever."
Nicole's heart ached at his words, at the thought of the old woman clinging to a memory so tightly that she was willing to project it onto a stranger. But at the same time, a part of her bristled at the implication. She wasn't Jennifer. She couldn't be.
"And you?" she asked, her voice quieter now. "Do you think I'm her?"
Leo shook his head. "No," he said emphatically. "I don't. But… I don't know what to do. She won't eat, won't rest, won't do anything until she sees you again."
Nicole felt a sigh well up from her very toes. Of course this would happen because her life wasn't complete until one more element of drama would come barreling right on in.
She turned again to look at Leo, the way his eyes almost implored, his expression a whirlpool of turmoil in silent efforts of control.
Finally, she asked the question that had been lingering in her mind from the moment this all began.
"Who is Jennifer?"