Valeria woke up with her heart pounding in her throat. It hadn't been a dream—she was sure of it. She heard it again, just before opening her eyes: a whisper saying her name. But when she looked around, all she found was silence and the pale morning light filtering through the worn-out curtains of the hostel.
She sat up slowly, rubbing her arms. The room looked the same as last night, but the air felt different… a subtle tension, like someone had just left.
Her phone buzzed. An anonymous message:
"Don't trust Lena. Or Ezra. They're using you."
Her pulse quickened. Who else knew she was here? How did they have her number? She looked at the closed door, then at the small table where she'd left the box. It was untouched. Or so it seemed.
She got up barefoot, moving silently, and checked the lock. Nothing broken. No sign of forced entry. But the whisper… the message… it all pushed her toward one question:
Is she really alone?
The silence in the hostel wasn't normal. Valeria felt it in her bones, in the way time itself seemed to hold its breath.
She moved toward the box on the table. It was still closed, just like she had left it… but there was something underneath. A folded piece of paper, barely visible. She carefully pulled it out.
Only one word:
"Run."
The floor creaked outside her room.
Valeria stepped back. She reached for her backpack, slipped her shoes on without a sound, and shoved the paper into her back pocket. Something was wrong. Not just because of the message or the whisper. It was a physical certainty—she was being watched.
She opened the door slowly. The hallway was dark, even though daylight was beginning to break outside. She stepped forward. Then again.
A figure dashed past the end of the hallway. She couldn't see it clearly, but something in the way it moved… wasn't human.
Valeria felt the urge to run, but her feet were glued to the floor.
And then she heard it again.
—Valeria…
A whisper, clearer. Closer.
Valeria stood still, her heart pounding like it wanted out of her chest. The voice had been soft, barely a whisper, but clear. Her name. From somewhere in the dark hallway.
She got out of bed silently, barefoot, her body fully alert. She crossed the room with slow, careful steps, trying not to make the old floorboards creak. She pushed the bedroom door open with her palm and peeked out into the corridor.
Nothing.
But the voice returned, softer this time, almost as if it came from inside her own mind: "Valeria..."
—Who's there? —she whispered.
No answer.
She moved toward the corner, where the hallway bent toward the back stairwell. The lights flickered like something was malfunctioning. Just as she was about to take another step, she noticed a shadow move to her left.
She spun around, ready to run if needed, but found only a half-open door.
A shiver ran down her spine.
She stepped forward, carefully pushing that door she didn't remember seeing open before. Inside was an empty room, with only a chair facing a window.
Hanging on the back of the chair was a black scarf.
And draped over the scarf… a note written in red ink: "Don't stop."
Valeria quickly hid the note she had found behind the mirror, slipping it into the back pocket of her pants just as she heard footsteps approaching down the hallway. The echo of Lena's heels clicked with an oddly deliberate rhythm, like a warning.
The door creaked open slowly.
—"Everything okay?" Lena asked, flashing a smile that didn't reach her eyes.
Valeria nodded, one hand resting on the dresser, her heart pounding like a drum.
—"Yeah, I just got a bit lost… this place is a maze."
Lena stepped further into the room, her gaze sweeping over every corner. Her eyes paused for a beat on the mirror, then on Valeria, then back on the mirror. Barely noticeable—but Valeria saw it.
—"I was looking for you," Lena said at last. "You shouldn't wander off alone."
—"I didn't go far," Valeria replied, trying to sound casual as she moved toward the door. "Just needed a moment to myself."
—"Did you find anything?" Lena asked, her tone sharper than before.
Valeria turned slowly.
—"Something like what?"
Lena smiled again, that careful, calculated smile Valeria was starting to see through.
—"Who knows. This place holds a lot of stories."
Valeria held her gaze.
—"I know."
Without another word, she left the room, feeling the folded note burn against her skin through her pocket. She knew she had crossed a line. And even if she didn't have all the answers yet, one thing was clear—she could no longer trust Lena.
Valeria descended the stairs in silence, certain that Lena was right behind her. She didn't dare look back. Every step echoed with anxiety and purpose. Reaching the foyer, she turned into a small room on the left—one she hadn't noticed before.
She closed the door behind her before Lena could follow.
The space was full of old objects covered in dusty sheets. A hanging lamp swayed with her movements. In the corner, a worn suitcase sat half-open, revealing a leather-bound notebook.
She pulled it out carefully. On the cover, a faded word: "Dossier".
She opened it.
Maps. Notes. Black-and-white photographs. Faces marked with red ink. And among them… Matteo.
Valeria held her breath. The notes were in another language, but some phrases were underlined. She recognized her own name handwritten. And Lena's.
—"What is this…?"
A loud knock at the door startled her.
—"Valeria, are you okay?" It was Lena.
Valeria snapped the notebook shut and stuffed it into the crossbody bag she wore.
—"Yeah, I'm coming," she answered, her voice steady.
But she didn't come out.
She waited. Heard the footsteps retreat.
And knew the game had changed.
Valeria sat on the floor, her back pressed against the cold wall of the room. The notebook, already hidden away, still burned in her consciousness as if she were holding it.
She had never been good at doubting people. Always wanted to believe them, even when all signs said otherwise. But this time… something had shattered. Not just in the story she was uncovering. Inside her too.
She thought of Matteo. How even though nothing had ever been truly real between them, his shadow still weighed like they had lived everything.
She thought of Lena. Her silences, her half-truths, her gentle but persistent push. Something didn't add up.
And then, she thought of herself. Of all the things she had left unsaid. Of all the times she let others set the rhythm, the end, the direction.
—"No more," she whispered, without meaning to.
She wiped away tears she hadn't realized she was crying. Slowly stood up. She still didn't know what to do with the information in the dossier, but one thing was clear: she could no longer fully trust Lena.
And somehow, that hurt more than everything else.
The creak came from the hallway.
Valeria froze.
It wasn't just any noise. It was sharp, intentional. Like a boot on old wooden floors. As if someone wanted them to know they weren't alone.
She rushed to the door and cracked it open. The hallway was dim, barely lit by a flickering lamp in the distance. Nothing visible.
But she felt it. A presence. Like the air was tightening.
—"Lena," she whispered.
The woman appeared from the kitchen, frowning.
—"What is it?"
—"Someone's there," Valeria whispered. "In the hallway."
Lena tensed. She didn't ask more. She walked to the door, peeked out, and slammed it shut.
—"Pack your things," she said without looking at her. "We're leaving."
—"Where?"
—"Somewhere they won't find you so easily."
—"Who?"
Lena finally looked at her, and in her eyes was something Valeria couldn't read. Fear? Guilt? Something more?
—"Don't ask now. Later."
A sharp knock on the door made them both jump back at once.
Valeria felt her heart stop. Lena went pale.
—"Are you expecting anyone?" Valeria asked, her voice barely a whisper.
Lena shook her head.
Another knock. This time, harder.
And then a voice.
—"Lena, open up. I know you're in there."
It wasn't a familiar voice. But there was something about it… dangerous. Almost mocking.
Valeria instinctively stepped back, looking for something to defend herself with.
—"Who is it?" she whispered.
—"Someone who shouldn't know where we are," Lena replied, her tone suddenly different.
Fear thickened the air.
—"What do we do?"
Lena hesitated for just a second, and in that moment, they heard the click of a key from the outside. The lock was being forced.
—"Bathroom window," Lena said quickly. "Now!"
Valeria climbed up first. The bathroom window frame was narrower than it looked, and the rusted edges scratched her arms. Lena pushed her from below, desperation flickering in her eyes.
—"Go, Valeria, now!"
Outside, a narrow alleyway. Dark. The air was freezing.
When her feet hit the ground, a brief wave of relief washed over her… until she heard the crack.
The rotted wood beneath her gave way, a plank snapped, and she fell to her side with a sharp cry.
—"Valeria!" Lena shouted from inside.
But there was no time. The front door burst open with a crash.
—"Run!" Valeria yelled, limping, trying to stay upright.
But Lena didn't follow.
A heavy silence settled in the air, followed by a stranger's voice from inside:
—"So, this is the girl."
And Valeria realized she wasn't running anymore. She was being hunted.
Valeria leaned against the alley wall, gasping. The pain in her leg was sharp, but she couldn't stop. Not now. She heard footsteps behind her, slow, deliberate—like whoever was following her knew they had time.
She looked back. Nothing. Only shadows stretching under the flickering lights.
—"Lena?" she whispered, hoping to see her figure appear.
But no answer came.
The echo of another step. Closer.
Valeria slipped between two trash bins, holding her breath, her heart pounding like a war drum. Someone stopped just on the other side.
Silence.
Then, a whispering voice, barely audible:
—"You shouldn't have come alone."
Goosebumps covered her skin. She couldn't tell if it was a warning… or a threat.
The footsteps vanished as quickly as they'd come. Valeria waited a few more seconds, trembling, before daring to leave her hiding spot. The street was empty again, but the air felt heavier. Something had shifted.
—"Valeria," Lena's voice came from behind, softer than before. "We need to move. Now."
She nodded, but her eyes stayed fixed on the ground. There was something there. A small, crumpled paper, almost invisible among the dirt. She picked it up before Lena could see and slipped it into her pocket.
They walked in silence for several blocks until they reached an old, abandoned metro station. There, among rubble and graffiti, a man was waiting. He didn't say his name. He just nodded, like he already knew exactly why they were there.
Valeria felt the paper against her leg. It burned. Or maybe it was just her mind, starting to light up with more questions.
The man had weathered skin and eyes dark as endless tunnels. He didn't seem nervous, or even curious. Lena stayed behind Valeria, as if she, for the first time, didn't know what to say.
—"Are you the one?" he asked, staring at her without blinking.
Valeria swallowed.
—"Who wants to know?"
The man didn't answer right away. He walked toward a rusted door, pushed it open with his shoulder, and waited for them to follow.
—"There's no time for explanations. If you've made it this far, you already know this is bigger than you," he said, never turning around.
Valeria looked at Lena, hoping for a gesture, a signal. But the woman only nodded.
The passage was narrow, lit by flickering lights, dampness clinging to their bones. Strange symbols on the walls—almost erased—seemed to tell a story that no one had ever finished.
—"Who are you?" Valeria finally asked, stopping.
The man turned slightly.
—"Someone who owed Matteo a favor."
That name still shook her. As if every time she heard it, the world changed shape for a second.
They walked in silence, led by the man who never said his name. The tunnel seemed endless, until it opened into a circular chamber with a stone vault and a table in the center. On it, there were yellowed papers, a faded map… and a photo.
Valeria stepped closer. In the picture stood Matteo, much younger, Lena… and the man now standing in front of them.
—"He never wanted you to see this," Lena said quietly.
—"And yet, here I am," Valeria replied, her heart pounding in her throat.
The man picked up the map and laid it out.
—"This is what Matteo was trying to protect. Not a person. A truth. And there are others like you looking for it… but not everyone has the same intentions."
Valeria stepped back. His words didn't sound like a warning. They sounded like fate.
Suddenly, a sharp, metallic sound echoed through the tunnel. A code.
The man looked up, tense.
—"They found us."
Lena cursed under her breath.
—"How did they know we'd come?"
The man shook his head and pointed to a hidden hatch in the wall.
—"Run. And don't stop until you reach the canal."
Valeria hesitated for a second… but then she saw it: a symbol in the corner of the map. The same one she had seen in the old journal.
This wasn't just about Matteo anymore. It was something far greater.
She ran.