The ride back to Oakridge was silent, but Natalya's mind was anything but.

Visiting Brooklyn Heights had only left her more confused. Instead of answers, she'd found more questions. Ones she wasn't sure she wanted the answers to and at the same time she wanted to.

The digital clock on the bus read 14:05, and the shadows on the road seemed to stretch longer, like they knew something she didn't. 

She sank deeper into her seat, that story replaying in her head. None of it added up.

Why was that address on her identity card if the house belonged to a dead family?

Her hands curled into fists, then loosened as she squeezed her eyes shut and let out a long, trembling sigh.

And then something vibrated inside her bag.

At first, Natalya didn't react. Her thoughts were too loud, too tangled. But the vibration came again, persistent this time. She blinked, straightened slightly, and reached into her bag.

Her fingers brushed against the cold edge of her phone.

One new notification.

She hesitated, thumb hovering over the screen. Then she opened it.

"You shouldn't have gone to Brooklyn Heights. I'm watching you."

Her breath caught in her throat.

No one knew she'd gone there.

Natalya started to panic. Her gaze darted around the nearly empty bus, scanning every seat, every reflection in the windows. 

Was someone here? 

Watching her right now?

Her fingers trembled as she shutdown the phone. She clutched it in her lap like a lifeline, the screen now dark, but the words still burned into her memory.

"I'm watching you."

Her pulse thudded in her ears.

Was it a sick joke? It was the same message from last night.

A warning?

Or worse a threat?

She didn't know who to call.

Should she report this to the police? Even if she did, she needed proof.

Natalya took a deep breath and slowly turned the phone back on, hoping the notification was still there.

But the screen was clean.

Just like last night.

Nothing.

She stared at the passing streets. She felt uneasy and afraid. She didn't even have her memories and some sick psycho is playing games with her.

Was it someone from her past?

Someone who knew who she really was?

Her grip tightened on the phone. She wanted to scream, to demand answers from a world that had already taken too much from her. She wanted to first unlock her phone, but she had tried every possible combination and it wasn't even hers. At least, not that she remembered.

Her first plan was to find out something in Brooklyn Heights, but that was an utter failure and now her next plan was to unlock her phone somehow. Maybe she can ask that bakery woman about a nearby phone shop. Or she could ask the bus driver.

The bus gave a soft lurch as it pulled into the bus stop. The doors hissed open.

Natalya hesitated.

Then she stood, clutching her bag tight against her chest. She stepped off the bus, the air outside colder than before.

She looked around and saw the bakery a few shops away and Natalya made her way there.

The warmth of the bakery hit her as soon as the door swung open, the smell of freshly baked bread and pastries filling the air. It was a brief moment of comfort, a stark contrast to the cold and unease gnawing at her insides.

The woman behind the counter looked up, her expression friendly but curious, as if she recognized Natalya but couldn't quite place where from.

"Hello again," she said, her tone warm.

"Hi," Natalya replied, giving a small, tight smile. She didn't know how to start, but she had to. Time was slipping away, and her mind was spiraling faster than she could keep up with.

"I—um, I need help," she said, her words coming out shakier than she intended.

"Do you know where I can find a phone shop nearby? One that might be able to unlock a phone? It's... complicated."

The woman raised an eyebrow, clearly taken aback. It wasn't every day someone came in with such a peculiar request. Her gaze lingered on Natalya for a moment too long, as if assessing whether she should take the situation seriously.

"A phone shop?" she repeated, her tone thoughtful. "Well, unfortunately, there's no phone shop here in Oakridge. There's one in the city, but the bus to the city has already left for the day." She paused, a slight frown tugging at the corners of her mouth. "If you're in a real rush, there's always the option of a cab, but it'll be pricey."

Natalya felt a flicker of panic rise in her chest. The city? The bus? The uncertainty of it all was too much, too sudden. She needed that phone unlocked. Now.

Her hands clenched into fists as she tried to focus. "How long until the next bus?" she asked, her voice betraying more urgency than she intended.

The woman glanced at the clock hanging on the wall behind her, then back at Natalya. "Not until tomorrow. It's an irregular schedule. Honestly, a cab might be your best bet."

The thought of waiting until tomorrow made her stomach twist. She needed answers now. Anything that would help her understand what was happening.

"I... I see," Natalya said, her voice tight. She turned away, almost absent-mindedly, before pausing at the door. The woman's words still hung in the air, pulling her back for a moment.

"Wait." The woman's voice stopped her. She hesitated before turning back. "But I do have a nephew who knows all about tech stuff. He's kind of a whiz with phones and computers. If you want, I can give you his number or call him over."

Natalya blinked, surprised by the offer. She wasn't sure if she should trust this stranger's nephew with something so sensitive, but the desperation in her chest pushed her to consider it.

"Your nephew?" Natalya asked, her voice tinged with skepticism. "Can he really help?"

The woman nodded, her expression earnest. "He's around your age and he's smart. He helped me when I locked myself out of my own phone last month. I can text him and ask him to meet you if you'd like. He's got a small place not too far from here."

Natalya hesitated. She could already feel the weight of the decision pressing on her. On one hand, the idea of meeting a stranger was unsettling, but on the other, this might be her best shot at getting her phone unlocked.

"Alright," Natalya said, her voice steady despite the unease that bubbled beneath. "Please, can you please call him over then. I really need my phone unlocked."

The woman smiled warmly, reaching into the pocket of her apron and pulling out her phone. She pressed something in that and then pressed the phone to her ear.

The woman spoke briefly into the phone, her voice casual but with a certain undertone of concern. "Hey, Christian? It's Aunt Martha here. Can you swing by the bakery? Got someone here who needs help with a locked phone. Yeah... kinda urgent."

She glanced up at Natalya as she listened to the response, giving her a small nod of reassurance.

"Alright. See you soon." She hung up and tucked the phone back into her apron. "He's on his way. Shouldn't take more than ten minutes. He lives just a few blocks down."

Natalya gave a small, grateful nod. "Thank you... really."

Martha waved it off with a soft smile. "It's no trouble. You look like you've been through something. Whatever it is, I hope Christian can help you out."

Natalya stepped aside, taking a seat by the window. The bakery's warm light cast soft reflections on the glass, blurring the view outside. Her eyes traced the shapes of passersby, her mind still stuck on that message.

"I'm watching you."

That message kept echoing in her skull.

Had someone followed her?

Had she led them here?

Was this just the beginning of something worse?

She stared at the locked screen.

There had to be something inside. Something waiting for her.

Something she wasn't supposed to find.

And soon, she'd know what it was.

Her nerves were raw and buzzing and she fidgeted with her hands.

Then—

The bell above the bakery door chimed softly.
Natalya glanced up instinctively.

A boy. No, a young man, stepped inside, tall and broad-shouldered, with a hoodie pulled halfway up and a messenger bag slung across one shoulder. His eyes scanned the room quickly before landing on her.

He didn't smile.

"Aunt Martha?" he called out.

"Over here, Christian!" Martha waved from behind the counter. "This is the girl I mentioned."

Christian's gaze returned to Natalya. His eyes were sharp. Assessing. Almost like he wasn't looking at her, but through her.

"You need a phone unlocked?"

Natalya stood slowly. "Yeah. It's mine... I think. But I forgot the password. Long story."

Christian raised an eyebrow and stepped closer. "You think?"

Natalya tensed. "I have memory issues," she said flatly. "I found this on me when I woke up in the hospital."

"Right," he said slowly, sliding into the seat across from her. "Can I see it?"

She hesitated, just for a second and then passed the phone across the table.

Christian took it without another word, setting his bag down. He didn't ask for details. Didn't ask why she wanted it unlocked. Just got to work.

And that was the part that made her uneasy.

He pulled out a slim laptop, a USB cable, and something that looked like a custom-built dongle. He moved fast, fingers gliding over keys like this wasn't his first time doing something... shady.

"You're lucky it's a bit of an older model," he muttered. "Newer ones are near-impossible to bypass without wiping them. But this one? I've got a few tricks."

Natalya didn't respond. Her eyes were glued to the phone's screen as lines of code began scrolling past in rapid succession.

Christian leaned back, letting his code do its thing. "Any idea what's on here?"

She shook her head. "Not a clue."

"That's gotta be weird. Walking around with a locked phone and no idea what's inside it."

"Tell me about it."

A tense silence settled between them, filled only by the quiet hum of the bakery and the occasional clink of ceramic cups.

Then—ding.

"Got it."

Christian leaned back in his seat, fingers off the keyboard, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "There you go. All yours."

Natalya's breath caught as she reached for the phone. It was open now. Finally. She almost expected it to burn in her hands, like it would tell her everything in one jolt.

But as her thumb slid across the screen, her anticipation gave way to confusion.
There was... nothing.

No messages. No call logs. No contacts.

No photos. No notes. No apps, even. Just the standard factory ones — calculator, calendar, settings. Not even a browser history.

It looked as if the phone had never belonged to anyone.

Her stomach dropped.

"...What the hell?" she whispered.

Christian leaned forward again, frowning. "What's wrong?"

"There's nothing here," she said, voice flat. "It's... clean."

He raised an eyebrow, reaching for the phone again. "Let me see."

Natalya handed it back, numb, watching as he poked around with more practiced fingers. After a few seconds, he shook his head, more puzzled than concerned.

"Yeah, that's weird. It's not wiped — not fully. If someone had done a full factory reset, there'd be a prompt to set it up again. This phone's been used. But there's no data." He looked up at her. "Someone cleared it manually. Like they wanted it to look untouched."

Natalya sat back, hands slack in her lap. "Why leave it locked then?"

"Maybe they wanted to buy time," he said slowly. "Or maybe... maybe they wanted you to find it this way."

Her throat tightened. "What do you mean?"

Christian shrugged, but his tone was more serious now. "I mean, it's bait. A puzzle with no pieces. It's supposed to get under your skin."

It already had.

Natalya stared down at the phone again. The unlocked screen felt like a lie. Like someone had scrubbed away her past and left just enough to torment her. And then there was the wallpaper. It was the same one as before. A blurred image, maybe a landscape, maybe a room, impossible to tell.

"Can you tell when it was last used?" she asked.

Christian nodded, tapping through a few menus. "Last activity was... a month ago. Some system update. Before that, it's quiet. No logins. No file transfers. No syncs."

"That was when I woke up in the hospital..." she murmured.

They both went quiet.

Then Christian spoke, low and careful. "Someone knew you'd have this phone. Knew you'd unlock it. They wanted you to look."

"Why?" Natalya whispered. "There's nothing here."

Christian looked at her, and for once, there was no smirk. Just a strange stillness in his eyes.

"Exactly."

Word count- 2066