November
After traveling for so long, I decided to return to Prague. The city's charm and familiarity drew me back, and I hope that my time traveling around Europe had allowed me to shake any potential pursuers. I arrived in Prague with a mix of nostalgia and trepidation, eager to reconnect with the city I love. However, my sense of security is soon shattered.
The moment I stepped off the train, I'm struck by an uneasy feeling. For the first time in months, something feels off, like how I first felt when I had disappeared from my former life. I keep my head down and move cautiously through the city streets, trying to blend in and avoid drawing attention. My first stop is a small café I used to frequent, hoping to find solace in the familiar surroundings. As I sip my coffee, I overhear snippets of conversation from the neighboring table. The words "a gentleman sniffing around" catch my attention, and my heart skips a beat.
Unable to resist, I strike up a conversation with a barista who seems to know everyone in town. I ask casually about recent visitors or unusual activities. Her expression turns serious as she recounts rumors of a rich man who had been asking questions around the city just days before my arrival. He was described as someone who seemed out of place, with an air of power and quiet urgency.
The barista's words left me feeling more anxious than ever. I thanked her and quickly left the café, my mind racing. I decided to seek out a few old friends who might have heard something more concrete. I made my way to my bookstore, where I met with Peter, who has always been a good source of local gossip. I was excited to note that the bookstore was much busier than it was before, and I felt a small sense of pride build in me.
Peter greets me warmly, but his face falls when I mention the gentleman I've heard about. He leans in, lowering his voice. "There's been talk of someone new in town, someone powerful," he says. "I heard from a friend that he is searching for someone, a missing woman. He has a picture he is showing people. Informed my friend that the woman he is searching for could have a different haircut or color. He's been making inquiries and causing quite a stir, offering a lot of reward money."
At his words, I did something I hadn't done since I had disappeared. I informed him that the man was looking for me. Peter listens intently, his expression growing more serious with each word, as I tell him I'm on the run. "I know someone who might be able to help," he says finally. "His name is Milan. He's a contact who deals with discreet transportation. If anyone can get you out of Prague safely, it's him."
I feel a glimmer of hope. "How can I find him?" I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.
Peter scribbles an address on a piece of paper and hands it to me. "Milan's place is on the edge of town. It's not the sort of place you'd find in a guidebook. Just be cautious. He's trustworthy, but he operates in the shadows."
I nod, my gaze steady. "None of that will matter. The man I'm running from is rich and powerful. He has so many connections. He'll find me wherever I go, and all of this will be for nothing." I should give up. Go home and suffer the consequences. It was a harrowing thought, one I had to push away quickly.
Peter's eyes narrow slightly, and he leans forward. "I'll help you with that. I've got a few contacts who owe me favors. I'll make sure he gets the wrong information."
I feel a flicker of hope. "How will you do that?"
Peter begins pacing behind the counter, his mind clearly working on the plan. "I'll spread the word that you're heading to Slovakia. It's a good diversion—distant enough to be credible but not so close that it's suspicious. Once he arrives, there will be no breadcrumbs to follow. I'll use my contacts in various circles: local businesses, taverns, and even a few people who are always looking for gossip. We'll make sure he hears of you leaving. I'll have a contact follow him and once he is out of town, we will make sure you're on the next train out of town."
