Reflections_in_the_Rain_Chapter_5 VIDEO

 Reflections_in_the_Rain_Chapter_5 VIDEO

Claire’s phone vibrated—once, twice—before she silenced it without checking. You’re not curious? Ethan asked, nodding subtly toward her pocket as they passed beneath an unmonitored section of the building.

Notifications are just someone else’s priorities, she murmured. A drop of water fell from the atrium ceiling three stories above, landing precisely between them. Neither reacted.

The revolving doors turned ahead, carrying in the scent of wet pavement and distant city noise. Ethan’s reflection briefly distorted in the glass before he stepped through. Claire hesitated—just long enough to disrupt the rhythm—then followed.

The street glistened with rain, neon signs scattering color across shallow puddles. Ethan turned left without looking back, confident Claire would match his pace. A delivery vehicle waited at the curb, its engine idling steadily. Claire glanced at the driver—a person in neutral clothing, eyes forward—then dismissed them as irrelevant.

Two blocks later, Ethan stopped beneath an awning, appearing to check his watch. Claire rested against a lamppost, her posture relaxed, while her fingers tapped a quiet pattern against the metal. Three short taps, one longer pause. Ethan answered by loosening his tie slightly. A shared understanding: remain attentive.

A street vendor’s cart rolled past, the aroma of roasted chestnuts cutting through the damp air. Claire followed it with her eyes—not the food, but the person pushing it. Their appearance was too orderly, their pace too measured. She released a slow breath. Ethan’s shoulders tightened almost imperceptibly.

Behind them, a vehicle door closed with a firm, controlled sound. Claire didn’t turn, but her fingers adjusted a small device concealed at her wrist. It felt warm, likely from contact.

Ethan stepped closer to a shop window, studying the reflection. The glass warped the street behind them—stretching shadows, bending motion. Near a newspaper stand, a figure stood still, its outline softened by rain on the pane.

We’re not alone, Ethan murmured, his lips barely moving.