Rain began to fall as the sky edged toward evening.
Aerin knew it even before the first drop struck the bookstore window. She had felt it coming for the past hour. A chill creeping down her spine, as though someone were standing right behind her without breathing.
This city was always like that. Gray stone that was perpetually wet, chimney smoke hanging low beneath the overcast sky, cobblestone streets slick even when only a single drop of rain had fallen. No one here was surprised when the rain came at exactly the same minute every day. Everyone seemed accustomed to it, as though they could predict it.
The old bookstore was quiet. There was only the ticking of the seventy-year-old wall clock and the sound of the rain slowly growing louder. Aerin was wiping an empty glass at the table in the back. There had not been many customers for the past three days. Few people wanted to visit a bookstore on the outskirts of the city when the sky looked this dark.
But Aerin knew he would come.
He always came.
Exactly at 3:00 p.m.
Aerin had never seen him arrive. One second, the door was still closed. The next, he was standing in the doorway. There was a small bell above the door that rang every time it opened. Or perhaps Aerin had simply been too busy to hear it ring.
The mysterious man always wore all-black clothes with a long coat. Not a single strand of his blond hair was wet, even though the rain was coming down hard. He carried neither an umbrella nor anything else. During the first month, Aerin had thought the mysterious man was strange. But as time passed, his strangeness became part of the bookstore's routine.
He did not say hello. He only gave a slight nod. Aerin nodded back. They never talked much.
He walked to the table at the very back, where he had an unobstructed view of Aerin, the window, and the door. There were no wet footprints from his shoes on the floor along the way. Then he fell silent.
He always took the same book from the old history shelf. Aerin had never seen him turn more than two pages. More often, the mysterious man simply held the book while watching the rain beyond the window.
Aerin brewed plain tea. She already knew the mysterious man's order without waiting for him to speak. Even though she knew he would only drink a little, the tea hardly seemed diminished after he drank it. The bookstore kept hot tea on hand for customers who only wanted to stop in and read.
He sat there for exactly three hours. Then he would get up, pay, and leave. This had been going on for eleven months.
Aerin had never asked who he was. She had never asked why the mysterious man always came at the same time. She had never asked why his hair was never wet. It was as if there were an unspoken rule between them. Don't ask questions, and don't talk too much.
Sometimes, when he wasn't paying attention, Aerin would secretly watch him from behind the bookshelves. And quite often, he would catch her watching him. For a moment, Aerin would see something in his eyes. Something very old.
Then he would turn away. Whenever that happened, Aerin felt her heart beating too fast. She didn't understand why.
Sometimes, after the mysterious man left, there would be a small red stain in the corner of the wooden table. Aerin had seen it three times, but she had never asked about it. She simply wiped it away with a rag and never mentioned it.
The rain grew heavier. Outside, the streets were pitch-black. Across the street, Aerin saw Elliot wave toward the bookstore from his coffee shop. Aerin waved back. Elliot was always kind. Everyone liked Elliot. The bespectacled man with dark brown hair was Aerin's first friend—and her only friend.
Aerin was wiping the checkout counter when she heard footsteps outside. Not ordinary footsteps. Each step sounded between two ticks of the clock. No faster. No slower. Aerin could feel that something was wrong, something she couldn't explain.
Aerin stopped moving. The chill she had felt an hour before the rain came made the hairs on her neck stand up again. It was stronger now, like ice touching her throat. Her body tensed slightly.
Aerin looked toward the mysterious man.
He was no longer looking out the window. He was staring at the door. His expression had not changed. But for the first time in eleven months, Aerin saw his fingers curl slightly into fists.
The footsteps stopped right in front of the door, but there was no knock. Only silence.
Aerin looked at the clock. It read 6:04 p.m.
The mysterious man should have left four minutes ago. He never stayed longer. He never remained for more than three hours.
Aerin opened her mouth to ask a question. But before she could make a sound, the mysterious man spoke for the first time without being asked.
"Don't open the door." His voice was low, like someone who had not spoken in a long time. But there was something inside it.
"What's out there?" Aerin asked. Her voice trembled slightly.
The mysterious man did not answer. He continued staring at the door. His eyes did not blink.
And then Aerin realized one thing. The wall clock had stopped ticking, making her breath catch slightly.
Something like fog began to cover the bookstore windows until Aerin could no longer see what was happening outside. The entire bookstore fell silent. There was only the sound of the rain. And the sound of her own breathing.
Then, from behind the door, a voice called her name.
The voice was exactly like her own.