Night had fallen, and the small coastal village was cloaked in a peculiar silence, broken only by the occasional howling of the wind. Lila sat on the small terrace of her guesthouse, staring at the notebook before her. The pages were blank, just like her thoughts - at least the ones she had intended to write down. The encounter with Rafael had unsettled her more than she cared to admit.
The morning meeting at the café lingered in her mind all day. Who was this man, really? And why had his abrupt departure left her with an emptiness that almost felt like pain?
Lila flipped through the notebook absentmindedly, her thoughts continuing to evade her. She heard the creak of the guesthouse door and turned. The elderly owner, Señora Marta, stepped out, a blanket draped over her frail shoulders.
“You’re still awake, niña,” Marta said with a soft smile, one she often gave but rarely received in return.
“I can’t sleep,” Lila replied tersely, trying to sort through her restless thoughts.
Marta nodded knowingly. “Sometimes the night is a better companion for the truth than the day.”
The words echoed in Lila’s mind, but before she could respond, the woman slipped back inside. All that remained was the cool night air and the unsettling feeling that this truth would soon catch up with her.
***
By morning, the village seemed transformed. The stillness of the night had given way to bustling activity. Vendors were setting up their stalls in the market square, and the salty breeze carried the scent of fresh fruit and spices. Lila decided to lose herself among the crowd, hoping the movement would help her collect her thoughts.
She had just stopped at a stall selling handmade jewelry when she heard the voice. Deep, familiar, and unmistakable.
“Lila.”
She turned to see Rafael standing behind her. His eyes looked more tired than before, as if he hadn’t slept all night. But there was something else—a tension that showed in every move he made.
“We need to talk,” he said, his tone urgent, leaving no room for argument.
“About what?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Not here.” He gestured with his head toward the cliffs where they had last been together.
Lila hesitated, but curiosity won out. Without another word, she followed him through the maze of market stalls, out onto the sandy path that wound along the coastline.
***
On the cliffs, the wind whipped around them, but Rafael seemed unfazed. He stood close to the edge, his gaze fixed on the churning sea below.
“I owe you an explanation,” he began without looking at her.
“Yes, you do,” Lila said, stepping closer.
He took a deep breath. “I’m not here to find peace, Lila. I’m here because I lost something. Something I’ve been searching for for years.”
“What did you lose?” Her voice was quiet, almost hesitant.
Rafael finally turned to face her. His gaze was so intense that she felt as though he could see right through her.
“My sister.”
The words hit Lila like a punch. “Your sister?”
He nodded slowly. “She disappeared three years ago. No one knows what happened to her. The last thing I have from her is a letter. Written here.”
Lila wanted to respond, but the words stuck in her throat. She hadn’t expected his secret to be so deeply personal.
“I don’t know if she’s still alive,” Rafael continued, “but I won’t stop looking for her.”
“And how do I fit into this?” Lila asked, her voice steadier now.
Rafael hesitated. “I don’t know yet. But there are things that connect you to this place, things I can’t ignore.”
A shiver ran down her spine. How did he know something about her that she herself didn’t yet understand?
