Chapter 218
KATYA POV
The mall hit all at once. Noise. Light. Movent.
Glass doors slid open and suddenly there were voices everywhere—laughter, music spilling from stores, the constant sound of people talking over one another.
It felt wrong, like stepping into a different world without permission. Nonna rolled in first, sitting comfortably in her wheelchair like she owned the place.
I followed closely behind her, hands firm on the handles, guiding us through the entrance before the doors could close again.
She looked... pleased. Almost amused. I, on the other hand, felt like I’d just walked into enemy territory.
The place was packed. Way more crowded than I’d expected. Families, couples, teenagers clustered in groups, people moving without caution, without fear.
No one was watching their backs. No one was counting exits. I pulled my hoodie a little lower over my head instinctively, fingers brushing the edge of the bandages wrapped around my scalp.
Loose trousers hid most of the rest of , sneakers quiet against the polished floor. I’d chosen comfort over anything else, anonymity over style.
I didn’t want eyes on . And yet... I felt them anyway.
Even though no one was staring. Even though no one spared more than a passing glance before moving on.
The sensation crawled under my skin regardless, that familiar awareness that ca from years of being observed, asured, hunted.
My shoulders stayed tense as I pushed Nonna forward, steering us around a group of kids arguing loudly about food.
I kept my head slightly down, my grip steady. "You’re very quiet," Nonna said lightly, looking up at from her chair.
"I’m fine," I replied automatically. A lie. But a harmless one.
She humd, unconvinced but not pressing. "Crowds do that to people who think too much."
I almost laughed at that. Almost. We moved deeper into the mall, past bright storefronts and big dolls dressed in clothes I could only imagine wearing.
Everything felt too open. Too exposed. Glass everywhere. No shadows to disappear into. I adjusted my hood again, heart ticking faster for no logical reason.
No one was looking at .
I knew that.
And still, my instincts scread otherwise.
I kept expecting soone to say my na. To grab my arm. To tell I didn’t belong here.
But nothing happened.
Just the steady roll of the wheelchair beneath my hands. Just the weight of the present mont.
Just Nonna beside , calm and unbothered, like this was the most natural place in the world for us to be. I swallowed, forcing myself to breathe.
In. Out.
This was normal, I reminded myself. This was what freedom looked like. I should try getting used to it.
"There, there," Nonna said gently, patting my wrist where my hands rested on the wheelchair handles. "Let us start from there, mia cara."
I followed her gaze before I could stop myself. The store she was pointing at was impossible to miss.
Bright lights. Wide glass walls. And right at the front—those oversized dolls standing stiff and perfect, dressed in coordinated outfits, smiling their frozen smiles at the world.
Their clothes were soft colors, clean cuts, things ant to look effortless and expensive.
I hesitated only a second before nudging the wheelchair forward again, guiding us toward the store.
The wheels humd softly against the floor as we crossed the threshold, the noise of the mall dulling slightly the mont we stepped inside.
The air changed. Cooler. Calr. Controlled. The sales assistants moved with practiced ease, their smiles polished, their eyes quick but not invasive.
Music played low in the background—sothing slow and harmless. I stayed close to Nonna, shoulders tight, hood still up.
The big dolls lood near the entrance, tall and unreal. Perfect posture. Perfect skin. Clothes draped over them like they’d been born knowing how to wear them.
I stopped without realizing it. Nonna noticed imdiately. "You see?" she said softly, following my line of sight. "They are only dolls."
I huffed out a quiet breath. "They look... intimidating." That earned a soft laugh. "Only if you forget that they do not breathe."
I pushed her further in, past racks of neatly folded clothes and hanging displays organized by color.
My fingers twitched at my sides, unsure what to do with themselves. I hadn’t been inside a place like this in... ever, really.
Nonna turned her head slightly, studying the way she did when she thought I wasn’t paying attention.
"We find sothing comfortable first," she said. "No pressure. You choose. I only supervise."
I swallowed and nodded, pushing her further into the store, a sales associate approached us with an easy smile, her posture straight but relaxed, like she’d learned how to be welcoming without hovering.
"Good afternoon. Welco. Please let know if I can help you with anything." she said warmly, eyes flicking briefly to Nonna before settling back on both of us.
Nonna didn’t miss a beat. She smiled back, polite and composed. "Do you have a private fitting room?" she asked, her tone gentle but assured.
The woman nodded imdiately. "Yes, of course. We have private suites in the back."
"Good," Nonna said. "Take us there."
Relief loosened sothing in my chest that I hadn’t realized was so tight. I shifted closer to the wheelchair, grateful without needing to say it.
Nonna had seen it, the way my shoulders stayed drawn, the way my eyes kept drifting to reflections in the mirrors lining the walls.
The sales associate turned and gestured for us to follow. I pushed the chair after her, weaving carefully between racks and displays.
The store felt quieter the farther we went, the music dimr, the air less crowded.
We were just a few steps from the hallway that led to the private rooms when.....
"Katya?"
The sound of my na cut clean through everything.
My hands locked on the wheelchair handles as my body went rigid, like every nerve had snapped to attention at once.
My heartbeat spiked, sharp and imdiate, drowning out the music, the chatter, the sales associate’s footsteps.
No.
I hadn’t imagined it. I knew that voice. It was familiar. Soone had said my na.
Slowly, I swallowed hard, bracing myself to see who it was and to my mouth opening surprise it was Michael.
"Micheal?!"
††
Happy birthday to .
Did y’all see Micheal coming again?
Lol, too.
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