In Her Shadow

The Encounter

The rain came down in cold sheets, relentless and heavy as if the sky was determined to wash away the grime of the city streets. Navy pulled her thin jacket tighter around her trembling frame, her soaked clothes clinging to her skin. Her breath came out in quick, shallow bursts, clouding in front of her in the frigid night air. She had nowhere to go. Not tonight. Not any night.She kept her head down as she walked through the heart of Manhattan, eyes scanning the ground for discarded food or anything that might get her through the night. Her mind was numb to the stinging cold. She'd learned to stop feeling it, to stop feeling most things. That's how she survived. Keep walking, keep moving. One more step, one more breath. She was used to being invisible, and she clung to that invisibility like a lifeline.But tonight, something inside her was cracking. The familiar pang of hunger gnawed at her, sharper than usual, and the bone-deep exhaustion had settled in a way that felt different. It felt final. Her vision blurred as tears mixed with the rain on her cheeks, but she didn't bother wiping them away. It didn't matter. No one cared.As the towering buildings loomed above her, she felt smaller than ever, like she could slip between the cracks of the city and disappear forever, and no one would notice. Navy stumbled on the uneven pavement, her knees buckling as the weight of the world pressed down on her chest. She gasped for air, but it felt like she was drowning in the icy downpour.Her knees hit the ground, hard. She winced, gripping the edge of the sidewalk for balance, but her strength was fading. She collapsed onto the cold, wet concrete, her body giving up the fight. Navy curled up on her side, too tired to care anymore, letting the rain soak her completely. Her heartbeat slowed, her body chilled to the bone. Maybe this was it. Maybe this was the end. And she wasn't even afraid.---Bridget Holloway pulled her coat tighter as she stepped out of her sleek, black car, the rain hammering against the pavement with unrelenting force. The chauffeur stood by the car, holding an umbrella over her, but Bridget hardly noticed. She was too used to the city, too used to the rain and the relentless grind of her life. Her heels clicked against the pavement as she made her way toward the entrance of her office building, towering high into the night sky.It had been another late night at the office, another string of meetings, decisions, and numbers that blurred together into an exhausting rhythm. But that's how it always was. Work had become her life, her routine. She thrived in the controlled chaos of her multimillion-dollar empire, where everything had its place, and she was always in control. But as she approached the glass doors of her office building, something caught her eye. A figure on the ground, curled up on the sidewalk. At first, she thought it was just another pile of discarded belongings, something left behind in the city's endless hustle. But then the figure moved, just slightly.A person. A girl. Bridget stopped in her tracks, her heart giving a small, unexpected lurch. She had seen homeless people on the streets before—New York was full of them—but something about this girl was different. Maybe it was how young she looked, barely more than a teenager. Or maybe it was the way she was lying there, soaked to the skin, trembling as if she had no fight left in her.Against her better judgment, Bridget found herself walking toward the girl. The cold rain stung her cheeks, but she barely felt it. She crouched down beside the girl, her eyes scanning the fragile figure. The girl's face was pale, her lips blue from the cold, and her breathing was shallow. Bridget's chest tightened."Hey," Bridget called out softly, her voice firm but gentle. "Hey, can you hear me?"The girl didn't respond. Bridget reached out, hesitating for a moment before touching the girl's shoulder, giving it a gentle shake. Still no response. She cursed under her breath, her mind racing. She should call someone—an ambulance, maybe. But there was something about this girl, something vulnerable and desperate that tugged at the part of Bridget she had long buried beneath her sharp businesswoman persona. Bridget's brow furrowed as she looked at the girl more closely. She couldn't just leave her there."Come on," she muttered, more to herself than to the girl. Without thinking, Bridget slipped off her coat and draped it over the trembling figure. It wasn't much, but it would shield her from some of the cold. Bridget stood up and glanced back at her car, her driver still waiting patiently by the door."Help me get her in the car," Bridget ordered. The driver, accustomed to Bridget's no-nonsense tone, didn't ask questions. He moved quickly to help her lift the girl off the sidewalk, her body limp in their arms. She was lighter than Bridget expected, too light, as if she hadn't eaten in days. Once the girl was safely inside the warm car, Bridget slid in beside her, her mind already working through what to do next. She couldn't take her to a shelter in this condition—they would turn her away, or worse, she'd just disappear again. No, Bridget knew that if she let this girl out of her sight, she might never see her again. And for some inexplicable reason, the thought unsettled her.As the car pulled away from the curb, Bridget glanced at the girl beside her, her breathing still shallow but steady. Her face, now free of rain, looked peaceful in an unsettling way, like someone on the edge of sleep or something deeper. Bridget exhaled sharply, unsure of what she was getting herself into. But for the first time in a long time, she didn't feel like walking away.---The ride to Bridget's penthouse was quiet, the hum of the engine and the soft patter of rain on the windows the only sounds. Navy stirred slightly in her sleep, her body shifting as the warmth of the car seeped into her bones. Her mind floated somewhere between consciousness and sleep, too tired to register what was happening. She felt safe, for the first time in years, and for now, that was enough. When the car pulled up to Bridget's building, her driver helped her carry Navy inside. The doorman raised an eyebrow but didn't question Bridget as she passed, a look that said he'd seen stranger things working in a building like this. Inside the elevator, Bridget felt a strange sense of responsibility settling over her. She didn't know this girl, didn't even know her name, and yet, here she was, taking her home.It didn't make sense, but it didn't have to. By the time they reached the penthouse, Navy was awake but groggy, her eyes flickering open as Bridget gently helped her into the apartment. She blinked, disoriented, the sleek and modern space around her a sharp contrast to the cold, dark streets she had just been on. "Where... where am I?" Navy mumbled, her voice hoarse. "You're safe," Bridget said softly, guiding her to the couch. "Just rest for now." ,Navy nodded weakly, too exhausted to question further. She sank into the couch, her body finally relaxing, though her mind was still racing. Why was this woman helping her? What did she want? Navy didn't trust people, especially people who seemed too good to be true. But for now, she was too tired to think about it. Bridget watched as the girl's eyes fluttered closed again, her breathing evening out. There was something so fragile about her, something that made Bridget feel protective in a way she hadn't felt in years.She didn't know why she had brought this girl into her life, but one thing was certain: she couldn't just walk away now.