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silent storms;

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That late afternoon, it was raining. Anna was at home, in the darkroom she used to develop photos — because, yes, she was a fan of the old-fashioned way of photographing.

Someone knocked on the door. The force and urgency of the knocks made Anna wonder who it could be. She looked through the peephole: wet black hair, a smug smile, as if he knew she was watching. Darren.

She opened the door, giving him space to come in.

— You? — she didn’t hide her surprise.

— Hello to you too, Kariko. — Anna shot him a sharp look.

— It’s Anna now. — She closed the door behind him. — What brings you here? — She walked to the side door of the room and, returning, held out a towel to him.

— What a warm welcome. Looks like nothing’s changed…

— I’m sorry. — Darren hadn’t expected that. She never apologized. He didn’t try to hide the surprise on his face.

— Doesn’t matter. This is… strange. — He chuckled softly, sitting on the sofa. They weren’t exactly close, but still, there weren’t many formalities between them. — I need your help… again.

Anna sighed, already knowing what was coming. She turned her gaze toward rainy London outside. She stayed silent, and Darren continued:

— You know… we need to finish what we started.

— Darren.

— I know, you warned me… but I really have no one else to turn to.

She stayed quiet, sensing the smell of rain mixed with the dampness of the room. For the first time, she noticed something different in his eyes — it wasn’t just urgency; it was almost… fear. Deep down, she knew this moment would come. Let out a long, almost tired sigh and just accepted it.

— Alright — she finally said, without looking at him. — But just to be clear, Darren, I’m not your lifesaver.

He nodded, knowing there was no argument to be made. For a moment, the only sounds in the room were the rain beating against the windows and the crackle of the enlarger fan in the next room.