The sun had barely risen when Amara stirred awake, her heart pounding from yet another dream. For months-no, for years-her nights had been haunted by the same face. A man. Strong jawline. Eyes that looked so much like her son Leo's that sometimes she woke up with tears on her cheeks. It wasn't the kind of dream that faded with daylight. No, this one clung to her, heavy and unsettling, making her wonder if she was losing her mind.
She pushed the covers off and sat up, rubbing her temples. The small apartment she shared with her children and Mia felt safe, familiar, but her heart still raced as if she had been running. She slipped into her robe and quietly padded down the hall.
Mia's door was ajar, light spilling from inside. Amara peered in and saw her friend awake, scrolling through her phone.
"You're up early," Mia said, setting the phone aside.
Amara hesitated at the doorway, her fingers clutching the frame. "Mia... I need to tell you something."
Mia sat up straighter, sensing the seriousness in her tone. "What's wrong?"
Amara crossed the room and sat at the edge of the bed. "Since I was pregnant with Leo and Leah, I've been having these dreams. They're always about a man. His face-it looks so much like Leo's. And when I wake up, it's like I can't breathe. Like I'm... missing something." Her voice cracked at the end, and she buried her face in her palms.
Mia sighed softly, pulling Amara into a hug. "Don't torture yourself, Amara. Dreams don't always mean anything. Maybe it's just your mind playing tricks. You've been through so much already."
"But what if..." Amara whispered, leaning into her friend. "What if I'm forgetting something? What if there's more I don't remember?"
Mia stroked her hair gently. "Shhh. Everything will be fine. You don't need to force answers now. Focus on the children, on your life today. Whatever that dream is, the truth will come when the time is right."
Amara closed her eyes, trying to believe her. Yet deep inside, something twisted painfully, as if her heart was pulling her toward a memory that refused to surface.
---
By afternoon, the apartment was filled with laughter. Leo and Leah were in their room, surrounded by their toys, shrieking with joy as they watched cartoons and mimicked the characters' voices.
Amara sat at the dining table with a notebook, jotting down a list of groceries. Flour, milk, vegetables, and snacks for the children. She tapped the pen against her lips, glancing at the clock. "Mia, I need to step out to the supermarket. Please keep an eye on them?"
"Of course," Mia replied, hanging up from a call. "Take your time."
Amara grabbed her purse, kissed her children on their cheeks, and hurried out.
The supermarket wasn't far, and she moved quickly through the aisles, picking what she needed. But as she carried the bags back to her car, an uneasy feeling settled over her. A shadow lingered too long, a presence that made her glance over her shoulder.
Her eyes caught a man a few meters away, holding up a phone. He wasn't pretending-he was pointing it right at her. Her heart skipped a beat.
Is he... taking pictures of me?
Panic shot through her veins. Without a second thought, she tossed her bags into the car, climbed inside, and locked the doors. Her hands shook as she gripped the steering wheel. The man lowered his phone but didn't approach, and that scared her even more. She turned on the ignition and sped off, her pulse drumming in her ears.
---
Meanwhile, across the city, in a towering glass building, Damian Knight sat at the head of a long boardroom table. His presence commanded silence, his sharp black suit and piercing gaze enough to make even the most confident executives stammer. Yet beneath the cold exterior, his mind was miles away.
For four years, he had lived in torment. Four years of searching. Four years of unanswered prayers. He had built empires, expanded companies, and buried himself in endless work, but nothing could erase the hollow ache that consumed him daily.
He missed her.
Amara.
Her laughter, her defiance, her warmth-memories of her tormented him even now. Some nights he wondered if he was going mad, clinging to a ghost. Other nights, he stayed awake replaying the day of the kidnapping, the helplessness as he watched her fall into the ocean.
And yet, he had never stopped looking.
Even now, as his secretary spoke about quarterly reports, Damian's phone buzzed on the table. He frowned at the interruption but glanced at the screen. His eyes widened at the message.
Unknown Number: Sir, we found her. I've sent the picture.
For a moment, the air froze around him. His chest tightened as if a giant hand had gripped his lungs. With trembling fingers, he opened the attachment.
There she was.
Amara.
Standing by a car, carrying grocery bags. Older, yes, but still the same woman who had haunted his every dream.
He swallowed hard, his heart racing so violently he could hear it in his ears. A call came in almost immediately. He pressed the phone to his ear.
"Hello?"
"Sir, it's confirmed. She's alive. I already sent the picture to you."
Damian shot up from his chair, startling everyone in the room. "Are you certain?" His voice was hoarse, desperate.
"Yes, sir. It's her. Should we trace her location?"
"Do it. Now. Send me everything. Don't lose her again."
"Yes, sir."
The line went dead. Damian stood frozen, his mind whirling. For the first time in four years, hope lit inside him like fire. His chest felt both heavy and light at once, tears threatening to sting his eyes-but Damian Knight did not cry. Instead, he clenched his jaw, forcing himself to breathe.
His secretary, worried by his sudden change in demeanor, approached. "Sir, should I-"
"Cancel the rest of the meeting," Damian interrupted, his voice sharp. "And prepare the jet. I'll take it from here."
---
Back at the apartment, Amara drove in, her hands still trembling from the strange encounter. She scanned the street, half-expecting to see the man following her, but no one was there. Relieved but unsettled, she gathered her groceries and went inside.
"Mom!" Leo called, rushing to her. "Where's Leah?"
"She's asleep," Amara said, ruffling his hair with a tired smile.
"Mom, can I use your phone?" Leo asked eagerly.
She handed it to him absently and headed into the kitchen. Mia was already there, plating spaghetti.
"Oh, you cooked?" Amara asked with a grateful smile.
"Yes, I thought I'd help since you were out," Mia replied, though her eyes narrowed at Amara's expression. "You look shaken. What happened?"
Amara set the grocery bags on the counter and exhaled. "When I was coming back... I think someone was taking pictures of me."
Mia froze. "What? Are you sure?"
"I don't know. Maybe it wasn't me. But it felt so strange, Mia. The way he was staring."
Mia studied her carefully, her worry deepening. "Amara, you need to be careful. Maybe it was nothing, but... don't ignore your instincts."
Amara nodded, though the unease lingered. She tried to push it away, focusing instead on her children's laughter and the warmth of home. But deep inside, she didn't know her life was about to change forever.
Because somewhere out there, Damian Knight finally had her within his grasp again.