Did time really stop?
Maybe it did—yet the noise quickly returned to Lina’s ears when she heard her name from afar. After a brief moment of drifting, she turned to face Laith, who still seemed frozen in place.

“Lina.”

The hurried steps of a blonde girl rushed toward her. Breathless, her words tangled as she shouted, “Liiina!”
She took a deep breath, then continued, “Ah… I almost lost my breath trying to catch up with you. Why did you leave me there? It’s not like you to go home from school without me.”

As her friend spoke quickly, pouring out her irritation, Lina smiled, gently took her hand, and said, “I’m sorry, okay? Let me buy you some milk on the way back.”

“I want one chocolate-flavored, and another strawberry,” Rahaf said stubbornly, standing in front of her.

“Why two?” Lina asked.

With the same stubbornness, Rahaf replied, “One to get my energy back—and the other because I want it.”
The two girls laughed together and walked away from the place.

On the opposite side, Laith remained stiff where he stood, repeating softly,
“Lina… Lina.”
He tilted his head slightly and murmured, “I’ve heard that somewhere before…”

Suddenly, a voice echoed in his mind:
Her name is Lina. Remember.

The echo lingered in Laith’s head as he stood there, memories long forgotten rushing back one after another. At the crossroads, Laith remained in place for some time.

Time passed.

It was nearly ten o’clock at night. As usual, Lina prepared for sleep—but unusually, she resisted it. A look of confusion formed on her face as she hugged her pillow, lying on her bed.

“Why do I feel like I forgot something?” she whispered.

She struggled to remember, but to no avail.
“Ahh!” Lina cried out, exhausted from thinking.
Then she turned onto her right side, hugging the pillow tighter. “I don’t want to forget. I want to understand this… What is this feeling, anyway?”

She held the pillow firmly as Laith’s brown eyes crossed her mind. She stayed lost in thought until sleep finally claimed her—or perhaps her body simply gave in to exhaustion.

Lina slept as she always did:
a resting body, and a wandering consciousness in time and space.

Only minutes after falling asleep, Lina woke up.

She saw nothing but darkness—as if she hadn’t opened her eyes at all. She murmured,
“Ah… it’s a dream again. I’m awake somewhere… I don’t want to stay here. I’ll go back.”

She closed her eyes again and again, but found herself in the same place.

“Where am I, anyway?” Lina said, realizing there was no escape.

It was as if she was walking through darkness. She saw nothing but black—yet she kept moving.
Until she heard a voice:

“You’re not really afraid of the dark, are you?”

She turned—and suddenly the space behind her lit up.

Lina found herself standing before a woman in her early thirties. She stared, then said,
“We’ve met before… but where?”

The woman smiled gently.
“Hmm… I don’t know. Have we met before?”

She tilted her head playfully, teasing her like a small child.

Then Lina remembered.
“Ah… you’re the one in the picture.”

She smiled and said, “Ah… this is the second time, right?”

“The second time?” the woman asked.

“Yes,” Lina replied. “We met when I was one year old—or maybe a little older. You love hiding, don’t you? But I saw you.”

The woman smiled.
“I thought you hadn’t seen me then. There was a small mistake—you happened to see me sneaking into the kitchen late at night while you were still just a child.”

She laughed.
“Speaking of it… my mother often told me how terrified she was when I disappeared from her side that summer night.”

Lina stared, unable to fully grasp it—then remembered how her mother always told the story of that night, always ending it with:
‘I found you in the kitchen.’

Lina smiled softly and asked,
“Lina?”

She waited for an answer.

Then the woman in front of her smiled and said,
“What is it, Lina? Did you just call me… me?