Izalia stood up, her eyes following the running figure as they ran down the street. Giving a quick apology to her stumbling parents, she darted out the front door and followed the hooded person. 

The sky was already turning a deep blue colour, the sun setting slowly behind a horizon of buildings. The snow that once covered the ground as a pure, white blanket was now dirtied and brown, melting under the setting sun. Blades of grass stuck up from random spots where the snow had completely melted. 

Trying to blow out even breaths, Izalia glanced down at her running feet then back up at the retreating figure who turned down a main road. Cars had already piled up behind numerous red stop lights, their horns blaring and tires screeching on the surprisingly icy roads. 

Stopping at the corner of the road, she tried to catch her breath as her eyes scanned the road, looking for the man among the crowd of workers on their way home. She used the corner building to help stabilise her as she forced herself up on her tiptoes, peering above the crowd. 

There.

Izalia weaved herself through the crowd, her short stature finally coming in use for something other than hide-n-seek. 

Occasionally, she pressed herself up against a building, trying to relocate her target. With the popular trench coats and regular black hats, she had a difficult time finding him again but, after a minute of frantically searching, she'd spot him a block ahead pushing through the dense crowd. 

She dove through the crowd, a surge of energy pushing her faster as she tried to catch up with him. Why were they watching her? Did they have something to do with her death? Was it that detective? 

Growling, Izalia fought against the river of people, shoving passed some and pushing others out of the way. Why couldn't they all just move for her? 

Her irritation was slowly bubbling in her stomach, growing up into her mouth as she tasted something bitter on her tongue. She watched as he turned down some alleyway, glancing over his shoulder at her for a second. 

The anger swelled inside of her as she pushed through the last line of people and stumbled into the dark alley, her eyes rapidly scanning the area. At the end of the alley, leaning against the wall with his hood pulled low over his face was the man, waiting for her.

Cracking her knuckles, Izalia marched forward, stopping only a foot away from the man, her heart racing not from nerves but, rather, from adrenaline. This man must've played a role in her death. Why else would he be stalking her? 

"Who are you?" she breathed, her hands balled up into fists by her side.

"But a mere traveller," they said quietly, their voice deep and low.

"A mere traveller my ass. I saw you watching me through the window. Who are you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." 

Growling, Izalia lurched forward and yanked the hood off the stranger, not the least surprised to see the so-called Detective Micahel grinning at her. 

She pointed an accusing finger at him, her irritation growing with his smile. "I knew it. What were you doing looking through my window? Huh?"

"I'm on duty, I told you that. I have to watch out for you," he tried explaining with a serious face though failed miserably as she could see the smile playing at his lips.

"Don't even go there. You aren't just watching out for me. You're up to something, and I want to know." 

"Why? I don't have to tell you anything." Micahel smirked at her, folding his arms over his chest.

Izalia felt her face redden as she grabbed his neatly pressed suit in her balled fists and shoved him up against the wall, her face just a few inches from his. "Listen here, buster. I know you're up to something and that it can be anything but good. Why were you looking through the windows at me? Why were you running from me? What are you hiding? I don't care who you are or what authorities you have on your side, but you're answering to me now, got it?" 

He still had that stupid grin on his face, his eyes piercing her own. "I'm not hiding anything. I was just looking out for you." 

She brought him closer, their noses nearly touching as she growled. "You're being a pain in my ass, and I can't wait to smack that smirk right off your ugly face. But before I do so, you're going to tell me what you were doing at my house with a hood." 

"I told you. Nothing."

"Nothing? Nothing! You weren't just strolling passed my house, you stopped and had to walk up to my front window to watch me while you pulled up your convenient hood over your face so I wouldn't recognise you if I saw you. But I did, and then you ran. Guilty men don't run." 

Micahel looked at her, his face a mix of confusion and awe. "You're right. But I'm not guilty of anything but doing my job. Can you put me down now?"

Her eyes burned into his face as she slowly set him down, taking a step back. Izalia had never been so irritated in her life. This man was definitely following her for some other reason than to just randomly check up on her. That meant he knew something she didn't, and if it had something to do with her early death, then she needed to know now. He was keeping a secret. And by his overconfident smirk, he wasn't giving it up easily.

"I don't ever want to see you again. I don't care if you're doing your job or if you're going to get a cup of coffee at the local cafe, but I don't want to see your face anywhere near me, got it?" Before he could answer, Izalia stomped out of the alley, merging herself with the crowd that still flowed through the sidewalks of the city. If only her feelings could flow away as quickly as these people moved. 

The anger was still sitting in the pit of her stomach but with each step, she felt it lessening, her shoulders sagging and her eyes drooping. Never had she talked to anyone like that before, but her annoyance had gotten the best of her, taking over the rest of her body and making her do and say things she usually wouldn't. It was as if someone had taken over her body, pushing her to the back seat. 

Shaking her head, she concluded that "Detective" Micahel had deserved the words she threw at him; he was infuriating and seeing him only brought her anger and frustration. 

According to him, he was simply doing his job and nothing more. He could be doing his job as a detective by watching out for her. But, watching her through her front window? That was a little excessive to her. And that would also be called stalking. 

Sighing, she played through the conversation and realised what she had said was nothing more than an empty threat. What if she saw him again? What was she going to do about it? 

Nothing.

She could do absolutely nothing. She let out a defeated sigh as she carefully made her way towards the outskirts of the crowd then leaned against the wall of some brick building. It was dark out now, and the sun had long ago set beneath the horizon. 

Izalia rubbed her face tiredly, her shoulders drooping against the wall of the building as she let out a puff of air. 

What was she going to do? Yes, her family had offered to help her, but as her mom had pointed out, what could they do? Then what would she do if they were killed? 

She couldn't let that happen to them; it wasn't right to expect anything more than encouragement from them. 

Slowly, she felt herself slide down the building, her butt hitting the cold, hard ground. The little snow on the sidewalk melted into her clothing, but she didn't notice. Her mind was swirling with thoughts that drowned out everything else around her. 

Izalia closed her eyes as she felt the world starting to spin, the ground crumbling away from beneath her. She suddenly felt sick, a nauseous feeling bubbling in her stomach. 

Her head was pounding, and her heart started to race at an abnormal rate. 

What was she going to do?

—

Boop.

Chapter 11! 

Weird thing... I actually started getting dizzy while writing that last bit... huh...

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