The fading autumn evening carried a chill through the streets of Melrose. Crimson maple leaves littered the sidewalks, and the sky cast golden-orange shadows over the aged brick buildings.
Nora Veldstein walked quietly along the pavement, dressed in a simple black wool coat and a worn brown leather briefcase fraying at the edges. A woman in her late thirties, with a composed face and sharp eyes. To most, she appeared unremarkable—an office worker without a car, without flashy jewelry, who always took the bus or walked home. No one knew the house in the northern part of the city was a Victorian mansion inherited from old money. No one knew the stocks under her name could sway minor market currents with a single decision.
Nora didn't care.
To her, life wasn't for display. Wealth wasn't for flaunting. She preferred silence, stillness, and staying far from attention.
But that day, that ordinary-seeming evening—shattered in an instant.
Something slammed into her hard from the right. She staggered. Before she could curse or demand an explanation, a shout cut through the air behind her.
"You! Stop him! He's stealing bread!"
Nora jerked her head up.
A boy was sprinting away, rolls and sandwiches tumbling from the torn pocket of his hoodie. He looked like a high schooler—his tie hanging loose, his pants faded. His face was smudged with dirt, a scrape on his chin, faint scratches on his temple.
"Good grief…" Nora muttered under her breath, watching as the teen skidded to a stop right in front of her, grinning like he hadn't a care in the world.
"Sorry, ma'am. Kinda in a hurry," he said, flashing a cheeky smile.
"Ma'am? I'm not—"
Before she could finish, the bakery owner—a heavyset man, red-faced and panting—rounded the corner.
"You with him?" the owner accused, jabbing a trembling finger at Nora.
"I—of course not."
"He ran into me," the boy cut in quickly, his expression turning faux-innocent. "I was just running 'cause I was late… but she fell on her own."
Nora's face hardened. "Kid, you stole."
"But I was hungry."
Silence.
The bakery owner huffed. "Then *you* pay, ma'am. Or I'm calling the cops on this brat."
"*Excuse me?*" Nora glared at the boy. But when her eyes met his—bright gray, full of mischief, yet hollow—she hesitated. There was something in that gaze. Something she knew too well: loneliness.
Reluctantly, she pulled out her wallet.
"How much for what he took?"
"Four-fifty."
Nora paid without another word.
The boy stared at her like he couldn't believe it.
"Uh… you actually paid?" he asked after the owner left. "Thought you'd yell at me. Or turn me in."
Nora exhaled. "I'm still considering it."
"Wow, you're kinda fun," the boy chuckled. "Name's Julian. Julian Locke. You?"
"None of your business," Nora snapped. She walked away, hoping she'd never see that damn kid again.
But life was never that simple.
---
**A few days later...**
The sky hung heavy with clouds. A light drizzle had begun as Nora left work. At the bus stop near the grocery store, she spotted a familiar figure: Julian, slumped against a pole, drenched.
"Hey," he greeted without opening his eyes. "You're… the bread-saving lady, right?"
"Why are you here?" Nora asked coldly, keeping her distance.
"Got kicked out of my place. Again. Said I owed two months, but I promised I'd pay in a week."
"Have you eaten?"
"Some bread from last night. The one from the bakery. Saved a piece."
Nora fell silent.
"Do you… not have family?" she finally asked.
Julian opened his eyes, staring at the sky. "Orphan. Foster care. Left two years ago. Wanted freedom, they said." He laughed dryly. "Turns out freedom's… cold."
Nora studied him longer than she meant to. Beneath his recklessness, Julian looked like a kid with nowhere left to go.
"Get up," she said at last. "You'll catch a cold out here."
Julian blinked at her. "Taking me home?"
"No. But you can wait it out. Until the rain stops."
He trailed behind her, steps careless, lips still curled in that roguish smile.
"Thanks, *ma'am*."
"Don't call me that."
"Then… pretty lady?"
"*Julian.*"
"Fine, fine. Miss Ice Queen."
Nora didn't reply.
She didn't know that evening was the start of days that would unravel her world.
---
Nora's home stood atop a small hill, surrounded by an old iron fence tangled with ivy. The building was tall, with large windows and pale gray paint that looked dreary under the rain. Julian stared at it like it was a castle from a fairy tale.
"This is yours?" he asked, unable to hide his awe.
Nora unlocked the gate without answering. Her voice was frosty. "You're only staying until the rain stops. Don't expect more."
"I don't expect anything," Julian replied lightly, though his eyes kept tracing the carved wooden door and antique chandelier on the porch. "But… this place looks like a dream."
Nora turned, her gaze piercing. "And you, Julian Locke, look like a problem that refuses to leave."
Julian chuckled. "A problem who knows how to say thanks."
As the door opened, the scent of aged wood and dried flowers greeted them. The interior was warm, dominated by dark furniture and towering bookshelves. An antique clock ticked softly in the corner, marking time in silence.
"Sit there," Nora ordered, pointing to a chair near the fireplace. "And don't touch anything."
Julian obeyed. He sat, shivering slightly. His hair was damp, cheeks flushed from the cold.
Nora wordlessly disappeared into the kitchen. Minutes later, she returned with a steaming cup of tea and a clean towel.
"Drink this. And dry your hair. I won't have you getting sick in my house."
Julian accepted them hesitantly. "You're… really not what I expected."
"What did you expect?"
"Someone who wouldn't care about anyone."
Nora's eyes sharpened. "I don't."
Julian smiled faintly. He sipped the tea slowly. The room fell quiet again, filled only by the rain and the clock's steady rhythm.
Then, Julian's voice broke the silence—soft, almost a whisper.
"I don't remember… the last time someone gave me tea."
Nora opened her mouth but closed it. There was something in his tone—raw, honest, and aching.
She inhaled. "You're leaving when the rain stops."
Julian nodded. "I know my place."
Another silence.
This one, for some reason, felt heavier.
Nora closed her eyes briefly. In her quiet, orderly life, now sat a strange boy—drenched, hungry, and scarred. He brought chaos… but also a rare kind of honesty.
And deep inside, something in her cracked. Not out of pity.
But because she knew too well… what it was like to be alone in the rain.