Chapter 2 — The Girl Who Lived Behind Quiet
(Adrian's POV)
Adrian had never been someone who noticed people easily.
He noticed patterns. Routines.
Silences between conversations.
The way people sounded when they were tired but pretending not to be.
But not people. Not faces. Not strangers.
Yet somehow, for the past two weeks, he had been noticing an absence.
The absence from 3A.
It started with sounds. Or rather... the lack of them.
Most apartments had some signature — pressure cooker whistles, TV serial music, someone talking loudly on phone, vessels clanging, chair dragging sounds, random laughter, crying babies, something.
3A had... nothing.
No TV noise. No phone conversations echoing into corridor.
No late-night music. No visitors ringing bell repeatedly.
Just one sound.
The door opening once in morning.
Door opening once at night.
That was it. And Adrian hated that he had started noticing it.
"Who do you think she is?" Elsa asked one evening, casually, while cutting beans.
Thomas didn't even look up from newspaper.
"Someone who lives there," he said.
"Thomas, I am serious."
"I am also serious."
Adrian was at dining table, pretending to scroll his phone but very much listening.
"I think she works in IT," Elsa continued.
"Why?" Adrian asked before he could stop himself.
Elsa looked at him like she had been waiting for that question.
"Laptop bag. Formal clothes. Leaves early. Comes late."
Thomas turned newspaper page.
"Maybe she is a spy," he said.
Elsa threw one bean at him.
Adrian smiled despite himself.
The first time Adrian actually saw her — really saw her — was in the lift.
And even then, it was not her face.
It was her eyes.
He didn't know how to explain it.
They didn't look scared.
They didn't look shy.
They didn't look arrogant either.
They looked... prepared.
Like someone who had lived long enough knowing the world asks questions before it offers comfort.
And then she left.
Scooter.
Grey kurta.
Quick movements.
Like someone who didn't want to occupy more space than needed.
That stuck with him more than he liked.
Sunday church confirmed two things.
One — she was real, not just corridor mystery.
Two — she was careful with existence.
Mask. Scarf over hair. Sat last bench. Left before crowd.
Adrian noticed how she always chose edges.
Edge seat. Edge space. Edge conversations.
