A man strolled in like a devil in a storm. The air in the room turned cold at the sight of him. Eyes shaded in night from a jet black fedora pulled down low matched the rest of his pure black suit and shirt tucked under a heavy midnight coat. In fact, he did not shake off his coat nor fedora as was traditional for luxury restaurants, masking his features in the shadows. Everything about him screamed peril, yet my feet stuck firm. Pale skin flashed from the folds of fabric surrounding him to reveal a hand clutching a cane. Silver glinted off of the top, but I kept my eyes focused on his shadowed face as he walked forward; a slight limp on his left was the only distinguishable thing from the man. 

“Table for one,” was all he said to me. Words cut into me like ice, freezing me to the bone. His voice was more profound than typical men with a rasp clinging to each syllable, sending shivers down my spine. Finally escaping from my trance, I reached for a menu and napkin wrapped around utensils. Only turning my back when necessary, I led him to a particular table in the very center of the room. A lamp positioned above the table only helped deepen the shadows cast around him.

Hands shaking uncontrollably, I swiftly set the menu in front of him, noticing how his hands were completely drained of color as he set the cane against the side and reached for the menu. His skin was white as paper and terribly wrinkled, showing how old he must be. Even by standing so close to his side, the shadows seemed to thicken around his face. 

“What can I get started for you, sir?” I cringed at the stutter in my voice, but he either did not notice or care about how his presence had affected me. 

He seemed to take his time looking over the options and causing the tension in the room to grow in magnitude, possibly unbeknownst to him. Purposeful or not, his appearance captured the attention of several other guests. Their eyes darted back to him with a mixture of fear and curiosity. Several men seemed to square their shoulders, sizing him up, but the man in the fedora kept his line of vision on the menu. Even my coworkers shot me looks of panic when I caught their eyes. 

A glint of metal drew my eyes to the cane at his side. Leaning up against the table caused it to look less menacing, although the orb in the center seemed to be infused with a blood-red color. Combined with the possessive eagle-like claws reaching around the orb, it resembled more of a weapon than a simple cane. 

The man’s voice shocked me into dropping my pen on the ground. Reaching down to the floor, I caught sight of his shoes. Instead of ones polished to perfection like other guests, his were stained and dirty with mud tracing up the front and sides. A speck of red that resembled blood at the base sent a shiver through me. Attempting to still my hand enough to make the writing legible, I listened to his order with panic weighing down on my shoulders. His icy-cold words dug into my skin and chilled the air. I nearly ran away but forced my feet to calm down and walk to the kitchen without tripping. 

I was greeted with a collision. 

Time seemed to freeze as I lay with my back pressed to the hard floor. I had passed out for an unknown amount of time before my sight returned to reveal Lindsey standing over me. Blinking several times was useless to stop the world from spinning around in circles. My head pounded against my skull, threatening to break out before Lindsey’s voice called my attention away. 

“O-oh! My goodness, Gabriella. I didn’t see you there…are you okay? You look deathly pale.” 

My fingers went to my hairline, where the skin was raw and swelling. Lindsey grabbed my hand to pull me from the floor, grunting with the effort to keep me upright. Feet faltering for a second, I reached out to balance myself, eyes swimming and not able to focus on anything. I rubbed both eyes and blinked hard. After a moment, everything was back to normal. It was only then that I noticed what I had grabbed to balance. 

Felix stared at me with wide eyes. My hand was around his torso in a death grip. Flustered, I let go as fast as lightning and cleared my throat. “Uh, sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.” My eyes went between Felix, Lindsey, and the door attempting to piece together what had happened. Lindsey must have been walking out the door just as I stepped through. Without seeing me, she shoved the door straight into my face, knocking me to the ground.

“I saw you fall,” Felix explained, perfect blue eyes still fixed on me with concern. “Wanted to help and see if you were okay. It seemed like you hit your head pretty hard.”

Oh great. So now I have to worry about embarrassment and clumsiness as well as a possible concussion. “I’m f-fine,” I lied. The bump on my head was starting to swell, but I could deal with the pain. 

“I’ll go get Sarah.” 

I grabbed Lindsey’s arm in a flash. Panic filled my voice with my plea, “No, please don’t. She has enough on her plate right now, and I don’t want to add to her stress. I’m fine, I swear. Just needed to catch my breath. Don’t mention a word about this to anyone, I beg you.” I did not need to have more people giving me concerned glances and asking if I needed help every second. I could deal with this on my own without getting Sarah involved. 

Lindsey was quiet for a moment, debating. After an agonizing minute, she nodded sternly. A sigh of relief escaped my mouth. “But,” she added with sternness, “I’m only keeping it quiet because I owe you.” The confusion must have been evident on my face, so she explained. “Don’t act like I don’t know how many times you’ve saved me from getting fired. Just please, no more running into doors around me.” She winked. “And I’m extremely sorry. I’ll check on you later to make sure you’re feeling well.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I told her, pulling her into a quick embrace before gently shoving her away. “Now, get back to your job before Sarah sees you slacking, Snow White.” Lindsey let out a laugh before turning and walking away into the throng of tables crowded with customers. 

“Are you sure you’re really okay?”

I jumped, forgetting that Felix had been standing there the whole time. I could see a faint scar above his brow from this close—one tiny imperfection on what seemed like a flawless surface. His eyes held concern with a hint of something else I could not pinpoint. 

“I’m fine, I promise,” I lied. Felix tilted his head as though suspecting the lie but never questioning further. “I should get back to work.” Turning to leave, my feet made it to the kitchen window before turning around and seeing him standing in the same spot. “T-thanks for checking on me. You didn’t have to do that.”

He nodded, the side of his mouth lifting in a grin. “Anything to help out my favorite waitress.” Without another word, he turned and walked back to the table where his father waited, head still buried in his phone. 

The events after seemed to fly by in a haze. Work, host, waitress, deliver, repeat. I saw Lindsey scrambling by with arms full of plates, both full of food and in need of washing. Whenever she would glance my way, I would paste on my best smile, but the worry never left the crease above her brows.   

Later on, I waited in the kitchen, listening to the ladies chatter away in Italian, soaking in the smells of delicious foods and resting my aching feet. It had been a long night for sure. A bag of ice lay at my feet, which I snatched for my head when no one was watching. Adrenaline shocked me awake when the meals for Felix and his father were ready. I took them out, setting them down in front of the two men, even sharing a smile with Felix as I caught his eyes. Not wanting to walk away but needing to complete my other rounds, the smile never left my face. 

“Table six!” A lady screamed from the window, placing a plate stacked with pasta in my view. All the happiness from before was wretched out of me and replaced with terror. I felt the color drain from my face as I took the plate to the customer with slow, deliberate steps.

The man in the fedora sat so motionlessly I questioned whether he was still breathing. Hands clasped together on the table, face still cast in dark shadows, and cane still set against the table, he held an unmistakable air of dominance. I approached, setting his food down as carefully as my shaking hands would allow. It did not take him very long to eat, and a half-hour later, I went to clear his table and retrieve the check.  

I stopped in my tracks when the absence of the man greeted me. Nearly thrilled, I started collecting his dishes with ease, stacking each plate on top of one another with one arm and his cup in the other hand. The movement of something falling to the ground caught my eye. The man in the fedora so carefully hid the slip of paper between the plate and the table so that it would have been impossible to see if the plate were not moved. 

Eyes tracing over each word, my breath raced out of my lungs, mouth going parched in milliseconds. Tucking the paper into my apron with haste, I ran back to dispose of the dishes in the sink and placed the check at the register, then moved to the farthest corner where no prying eyes could see. With my hands trembling, I reopened the letter and read the words over and over until my vision seemed to go cross-eyed. They were simple words but threatening nevertheless. 

“Come to this address at exactly midnight, or an anonymous call will be made to the police with incriminating details about a robbery on the 17th of December last year.” The address was listed below in the same handwriting style—slow, deliberate lines stealing all happiness away.

Crushed by the weight of the memories from my old life and heart heavy with guilt, I carefully hid the paper in my pocket, finished up my shift, and said goodnight to my coworkers. Lindsey was still concerned about the accident, but I quickly assured her the pain had passed. She would never know that the pounding in my skull told the opposite story. 

Each moment afterward dragged out as the clock rang closer to midnight, and sheer terror quaked throughout each movement. Lindsey was long gone before I was able to step out of the restaurant, determined to go home and forget the whole night. Unfortunately, my mind had other ideas. Instead of the peaceful drive through the hills and valleys towards my apartment, the man in the fedora and the note plagued my thoughts. Somehow a part of me understood that it was not a joke to put off and forget about.

What could be worse; an address that would most likely result in a pointless drive and wasted gas or the rest of my days locked behind bars? 

The world fell into a hazy, dream-like state. Minutes ticked by at a snail’s pace until a buzz from my watch told me the hour had come. Knees threatening to collapse underneath me at any given moment, I climbed out of my vehicle and took in the surroundings.

Brick-lined warehouses ran along each side of the abandoned road. Street lamps, few and far between, cast a sinister glow on the building in question. Years of graffiti painted the stone— both faded and vibrant colors revealed the presence of recent activity. This particular area of town was known for criminal activity of all sorts. 

I flinched at a sudden noise at my back. When I turned, a bird’s cry greeted me. 

“Shoo, shoo!” I yelled, waving my arms to scatter the birds that had gathered under the lamp at my side. Instead, the ravens cast beady black eyes back at me, unafraid. If only I had their bravery. Was it bravery? Or stupidity? Unsure of what to make of this situation, I returned my attention to what lay ahead. The cold wind caught my skin, sending shivers along every inch of my body. 

The abandoned warehouse door was cast in threatening shadows. Using the light of my cell phone, I followed the crumbling path, stumbling along with the broken stones. Every passing moment seemed to take an eternity. 

The sudden appearance of light caught me dead in my tracks. By the door, a single mounted lamp had flickered to life, and I was not in a hurry to know whether it was motion-activated or if someone had flicked a switch. I looked around for motion, but nothing shifted in the night as far as the light would reach. 

Listening for sounds other than the squeaking birds proved useless with my heart pounding in my eardrums. Still, my heartbeat increased when I reached for the door handle. Another chill blast of air blew past me into the night as the old door opened to reveal more darkness. With another glance around, I stepped inside, sealing my destiny. 

Perhaps it was ludicrous for me to come along, walking along the edge of the unknown, clinging on to dear life, never knowing what to expect. 

“Who am I kidding?” I muttered under my breath. “This was a bad idea since I first set sight on the man in the fedora. I should have gone straight to the police. But what would they discover? My past criminal activity would have ended with me behind bars no matter what.” I stared out into the black, shapeless warehouse. Worry and panic took over every thought and action that came afterward. Perhaps the man was even here now, sulking in the shadows, waiting for the perfect opportunity to exploit my skills for his benefit or something more horrific. “That’s why I’m here, right?” I yelled out. “Because my past has finally caught up with me?”

As expected, there was no response from the silent space. Walking along deeper into the warehouse, my thoughts drifted to where it had all started, back to the day that truly sealed my destiny. My eyes glazed over at the repressed memory. 

The masked accomplices surrounded me while racing toward the rubies, diamonds, and dozens more gems lined the glass cases. Hands scrambled to grab each and every precious gem, stuffing them into a plain sack while the alarms alerted the police. Within minutes, sirens rang out. I panicked with the others, dropping the last item into the bag and racing out the back doors. A few more minutes and we would have been arrested and sent away to prison for several years. 

I was a hair’s breadth away from freedom and damnation. 

A sharp cry broke me from my thoughts. Feet halting instinctively, my light raced around the space. There was no sight of what had made the noise. Cautiously, I took a step forward and then another. Finally, I realized what had caused the cry. Or rather, whom.

“Oh, my God.” I raced forward. A figure sat on a bare metal chair. When I got closer, I could see ropes and wires wrapped around the person’s ankles to the legs, thighs to the seat, and wrists behind the back of the chair. Unable to move anything but their head, groans and moans escaped the mouth of the person. It was difficult to distinguish anything. Perhaps they were my age, but they could have been significantly younger. A cloth pressed into their mouth and wrapped around their eyes prevented any features from showing. However, dark hair cascaded down their shoulders, and a small figure indicated a female.  

Blue and purple bruises poked out on her arms and legs, lines of blood trailing from hidden wounds. She had been sitting here, completely in the dark for who knew how long before I had shown up. Hurt and entirely isolated.

My light glazed over the chair and the person tied to it, settling on a scrap of paper set on a lone stool beside the chair. Other than the chair and stool, there were no other big objects set within view. A glare of silver blinded me before I realized what the object was. Placed under the paper, a small pistol stared up at me expectantly. 

“Don’t worry,” I told the girl, my eyes never leaving the pistol. “I’ll get you out of here.” 

Unsure if she could even hear me over the painful groans, I picked up the paper, tentatively examining every inch before it slipped through my fingers. My heart stopped beating, fingers numb and cold. I stared at the girl. 

Printed on the seemingly innocent piece of parchment were six little words. Six words with the power to control the outcome of my actions, change the course of history, and change my destiny and the girl's destiny forever. 

“Kill the girl, or you die.”

I stood silent, still as a statue for what seemed like endless minutes before the girl’s groans brought me back. The tortured, hurt, bruised girl was most likely scared out of her mind, sitting tied to a chair in an abandoned warehouse. What would I do if I were in her current position? Surrounded by the unknown, my fate in the hands of a stranger with a choice? 

The quiet laugh that bubbled out of my lips was more frightening than the pistol set on the stool by my side. “You can’t be serious,” I yelled out into the darkness. Perhaps the man in the fedora was here, watching every movement, finger on a trigger if I made the wrong one. Somehow that only motivated me more to voice my thoughts. 

“This girl played no part in my past; why should she be punished for my sins? Let her go and take me instead. Punish me. She’s innocent!” The dark stared back at me, daring me to make another move. 

I would make a move, but I needed to think. With the heart-wrenching sounds of pain coming from the girl to motivate me, I racked my brain for a plan. I needed to get both of us out of this building alive. And fast. The man could be around any bend, shrouded in the darkness just like he was at the restaurant. With a start, I remembered the speck of red on his shoes, trailing my eyes over the girl’s body. Perhaps it really was dried-up blood. 

If he was willing to hurt and bind up this girl for her innocence, what would he do to me if I were to untie her? Surely then, we would both die for my supposed heroism, and nothing truly good would come as a result.

Kill or be killed. 

The girl had her whole life ahead of her, but what about me? There was never truly a time in my life where I felt complete, having lived my life to the fullest. My job was amazing indeed; however, my true dream was to travel the world. My life flashed before my eyes, happiest moments leading into the quiet, lonely days. I had so much more to live. So much more of myself to give and share with the world. 

My gaze traveled back to the pistol, threatening to pull me into its deadly grasp. Fingers twitched by my side, but my feet stayed planted, humanity winning me over. This was not the right thing to do, and that was a dangerous risk I was fully willing to take. If I were to use the pistol, I would be no better than the man in the fedora. 

“I won’t give in to your twisted game. People are better than this. I am better than this!”

With a shove, the stool fell on its side, pistol flying out of my sight and away into the darkness. The sound echoed throughout the warehouse as I rushed for the girl. The binds held fast with each amount of tugging. Determination coursed through every nerve in my body, threatening to take over. The coarse rope and wires cut into my hands, drops of blood trailing towards the floor and collecting into a puddle at my feet. A yell escaped my mouth with one final tug, and the binds came loose around her thighs. Scrambling to untie her legs and then her arms, within agonizing minutes, the girl fell into my arms.

We sunk into an embrace. “I’ve got you, I’ve got you. You’re safe now.” 

The girl quaked in my arms. Overwhelming tears flowed down both our faces. Quietly, slowly, she pulled away from me and slipped off the cloth from her mouth and eyes, giving me a glimpse of the girl hidden underneath. My whole body froze; breathing stopped as I took in her features. Gentle blue eyes gazed back at me, dark waves cascaded down her shoulders, pale skin the color of snow reflecting in the small light. 

“Lindsey.”

Both momentarily at a loss for words, we clung to each other. Several strong emotions attempted to push their way to the surface at once. Anger and confusion won out.

“Who did this to you?” My eyes trailed the bloodlines and blue and purple scars embedded into her skin. Fists clenched at my side, she told the story, my anger boiling more and more with each word.

“A man was waiting for me behind the restaurant after my shift ended. I couldn’t tell what he looked like because he wore a hat and black jacket. There was no one else around, and h-he just g-grabbed me.” She started shaking more and fell to the floor, taking me with her. “I d-didn’t know what to do, and he wouldn’t let me g-go.”

“Don’t worry,” I told her, grabbing her chin to meet her eyes. “I won’t leave you again.” 

Movement from the darkness caught my eye a second before the sound exploded into the warehouse. We fell in a heap of arms and legs. Vision momentarily black, ringing filled my eardrums. When sight returned, Lindsey was kneeling by my side, surprise and worry etched into a crease between her brows. 

“What happened?” I asked her. 

She grabbed my shoulders and pushed me back to the floor at my attempt to sit up. Every muscle in my body ached, and I could not determine whether it was from the fall or something else. My hand followed a dull pain at my side. Something sticky and wet had gotten onto my shirt, clinging to my fingers.

“Don’t move, Gabriella,” Lindsey said, each syllable coming out in a whisper. “You’ve been shot. No, hold still. You'll only make it worse, trust me, please.” More tears ran down her face. Using the fingers not coated in blood, I gently wiped them away. Her hand came up to meet mine, pressing into her gentle skin. “You’re going to be okay. You hear me?” Her attempt at a smile faltered. 

I knew there was no hope. Long suspecting that the man in the fedora was sitting, waiting, watching for me, we should have run as soon as Lindsey was out of the chair. Caught off guard by her identity, we wasted precious moments. Perhaps we could have both lived, escaped from this tomb of death and uncertainty, and lived out the rest of our lives. 

My vision was slipping away.

“I-I want you to promise me something,” I told her. The pain in my side was growing exponentially, sucking away the words that I had to fight to come out. Lindsey’s fingers clutched mine at her cheek. “Promise me that you w-won’t wait until death is close until you decide to live your life. Y-you’re still young, still beautiful, still full of l-life. Don’t waste it.”

Her lips trembled, opening and closing several times before the words came out. “I promise.” She placed both shaking hands onto the sides of my face, resting her forehead against mine. “You’re gonna be okay.”

I closed my eyes, accepting my fate, my destiny. The world was slipping away agonizingly slow, but as long as I knew that Lindsey would be with me till the end, I knew what she said was true. 

Everything would be okay.

“Gabriella?…Gabriella…Gabriella!”

The world came back in a blur of color and movement. It took several minutes till my heavy eyelids would open, revealing a startling sight. I was lying on the hard ground floor of Las Dolce Vita. Moonlight from the skylight shone down in waves of light. Lindsey and Felix stood over me, eyes wide in surprise or fear I did not know. 

Lindsey reached out, grabbing my hands and helping me back to my feet. My knees threatened to collapse beneath me, so I clung to her with all my strength. A sharp pain erupted from my skull, and a small cry escaped.

“O-oh! My goodness, Gabriella,” Lindsey said beside me. Her arm slipped through mine to keep me steady. “I didn’t see you there…are you okay? You look deathly pale.” 

“What happened?”

Felix gapped at me. “You don’t remember?

“You were knocked to the ground when I came through the door,” Lindsey explained, her voice taking on a comforting tone. “It seems you hit your head pretty hard. Are you okay?”

A trigger flipped in my subconscious, memories overwhelming me. The door, the pain in my head as I blacked out onto the floor, Felix helping to make sure I was okay, the man in the fedora, the note. I gasped at the pain, whether it was from the memories or my skull-splitting headache. 

I tackled Lindsey in an embrace, clutching to her and never wanting to let go ever again. “You’re okay!”

She was startled. “Okay? Of course, I am. What are you getting on about?” She pulled away, allowing me time to look her over. Not a speck of blood or bruises dotted her perfectly pale skin. 

“The man in the fedora, h-he—”

“What man?”

Momentarily flustered, I looked over her shoulder to point out the man in question. The table sat empty, unoccupied, without a single glass or plate out of place. Lindsey followed my gaze.

“That table hasn’t been used all night. Are you sure you're not imagining things?”

I racked my brain for a possible explanation of the circumstances. Perhaps I did imagine the man, but how would I have gotten shot. By all accounts, I should be dead, laying on the hard ground in an abandoned warehouse. 

Perhaps something allowed me another chance to live out my days, help Lindsey and be by her side. Never again would I let anything happen to her as long as I was alive. Even if what occurred was all in my head, I would never forget my actions; how one choice changed my life forever. 

I whipped out my phone, and the text message glared back at me in expectation. Only this time, I would not run, would not shrink from my fears. Hastily typing out the message to never again contact me, I felt Lindsey’s kind hand rest on my shoulder.

“Gabriella, are you okay?”

A smile slowly etched the corner of my mouth. “I had the strangest dream.”