Ayla walked through the neighborhood gate with heavy steps. The night air felt colder than before, but a sense of relief began to creep over her as she took in the familiar scene—the rows of houses with their little gardens, the walkway she knew by heart, and the light glowing on her porch.
She glanced toward the security post, where the two men she’d asked about Blue earlier were still standing. But their expressions had changed. They weren’t friendly or indifferent. They were staring at her strangely, as if they were watching something out of the ordinary.
Ayla tried to ignore the feeling. Tonight had already been strange enough. She didn’t want to think about it anymore.
When she reached her house, she immediately felt a little calmer. The light shining from inside looked warm, and the front door was slightly ajar, perhaps left that way because she hadn’t come home yet. Ayla let out a long breath, trying to relax her tense muscles.
She stepped into the yard and gripped the doorknob, cool against her palm. But before she could go inside, a familiar sound stopped her.
“Meow.”
Ayla froze, eyes widening. She turned toward the sound, and there, coming from inside the house, was a small figure with glossy black fur she recognized at once. Blue. The cat trotted over to her, tail swishing happily as if nothing strange had ever happened.
“Blue...” Ayla whispered, her voice almost breaking.
Blue meowed again, then sprang nimbly into Ayla’s arms. The warmth of his little body nearly brought her to tears. She hugged him tight, not caring about the fur sticking to her clothes.
“You’re here! I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” Ayla said hoarsely, half laughing at herself for nearly giving up hope earlier. She gently stroked Blue’s head as he meowed affectionately, as if to say, “I’m here, Ayla. I’m okay.”
Ayla sighed with relief, her eyes stinging with tears that never quite fell. All the worry and fear that had built up along the way slowly melted away.
She began to think that maybe everyone had just been messing with her, pretending not to know Blue. Or maybe she was so tired that she’d made too much of something unimportant. Either way, Blue was here, in her arms, and that was enough.
She stepped inside, slowly closing the door with one hand while the other held Blue. A sense of comfort began to settle over her again. Her home was a safe place. With Blue, everything would be all right now.
But when she turned toward the living room, something stopped her in her tracks. A photograph hung on the wall, right where it usually was. It was a family photo in a frame, but something was wrong. Ayla should have been in it, but only her parents were there.
Ayla stared at the frame, frowning as her body tensed again. She slowly moved closer. Blue, in her arms, let out a small meow, as if warning her.
Suddenly, the living-room light flickered, as if it had briefly lost power. In that momentary flash, Ayla saw something in the reflection on the glass of the frame. Something moving quickly behind her.
Ayla forced herself to think clearly. The flickering light, the strange shadow in the glass—all of it might just be the effects of an overly long night and her exhaustion.
She gently bit her lip, trying to calm herself. Blue was still in her arms, and now he seemed calm, as if nothing that had just happened had bothered him at all.
“It’s all just my imagination,” Ayla murmured, trying to convince herself.
Her stomach began to growl, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten since the afternoon. She hurried toward the dining room, hoping to join Dad and Mom, who might be waiting for her to have dinner.
At least being with them could chase away the unease that had been haunting her all evening.
When Ayla reached the dining room, she felt relieved. Dad and Mom were there, sitting at the table and enjoying their dinner as usual.
Ayla felt a little guilty for being late, especially since Dad looked exhausted—maybe because his job as head of the national intelligence agency had been weighing more heavily on him lately.
“Sorry I’m late,” Ayla said with a small smile, approaching the table with Blue still in her arms. “I’m hungry. Why didn’t you wait for me?”
But as she drew closer, she noticed something odd. Dad and Mom stopped chewing and stared at her in shock—or rather, with confusion and... fear? Ayla stopped walking, sensing that something was wrong.
“Who is she?” Dad spoke first, his voice uncertain. He looked at his wife, who stared back at him in panic.
Mom slowly set down her fork, her hand trembling. “Who are you?” she asked softly, her voice full of fear.
Ayla froze. “What do you mean, Mom? It’s me, Ayla. Your daughter,” she said, trying to laugh and lighten the mood, but her laugh sounded hollow.
Dad stood up from his chair, his eyes still fixed on Ayla. “We don’t have a daughter,” he said, more firmly this time. “Who are you, and why are you here?”
His words hit Ayla like a hammer. She stared at the two people in front of her, eyes wide, searching for some sign that they were joking, that this was just a cruel prank. But the fear on their faces was all too real.
“Mom, Dad... it’s me. Ayla,” she said, her voice trembling as her eyes began to well up. She stepped forward, but Dad immediately backed away, shielding Mom with his body.
“Don’t come any closer!” Dad shouted. His hand gripped a knife on the table, though he didn’t raise it. “Whatever you want, get out of our house right now!”
Ayla’s tears fell before she could stop them. She lowered her eyes to Blue in her arms, hoping the cat would give her an answer. But Blue only let out a small meow, offering no clue.
“I don’t understand...” Ayla whispered, her voice barely audible. She stepped back, confused, feeling as if her whole world had crumbled.
'What’s really going on?!'