The bus was crowded.
Too crowded for comfort.
People stood in the aisle, holding onto anything they could.
“Move down, please,” the driver called out.
At the next stop, more passengers pushed in.
Among them — a small girl.
She looked around, searching for a place to sit.
One seat was half empty.
Next to a well-dressed woman.
The girl stepped closer.
“Excuse me,” she said softly.
The woman didn’t respond.
The girl hesitated.
Then sat down carefully.
The reaction was immediate.
“I said don’t sit here,” the woman snapped, turning sharply.
A few heads turned.
The girl froze.
“I’ll stand,” she said quickly, starting to get up.
“No,” the woman added, irritated now, “you should have thought before sitting.”
The bus shifted slightly.
The girl lost balance for a second… and instinctively held onto the woman’s arm.
“Don’t touch me,” the woman said, pulling away.
Silence spread.
People were watching now.
The girl sat back down slowly.
Not looking at anyone.
Just staring ahead.
The woman sighed loudly.
“This is unbelievable,” she muttered.
Then the girl leaned slightly closer.
And whispered something.
So quietly no one else heard it.
The woman’s body went still.
“…What?” she said.
Her voice was different now.
The girl didn’t repeat it.
The woman stared at her.
Then slowly looked around the bus.
As if seeing it for the first time.
“What did you say?” she asked again, softer.
The girl finally spoke.
“He’s watching you.”
The woman’s face drained of color.
“Who?” she whispered.
The girl’s eyes moved slightly.
Toward the back of the bus.
The woman followed her gaze.
A man stood there.
Still.
Watching.
Too still.
The bus suddenly felt smaller.
The air heavier.
“Driver,” the woman said, her voice shaking now, “stop the bus.”
The driver glanced in the mirror.
“What’s going on?”
“Just stop,” she repeated.
Too late.
The man in the back started moving.
Slowly.
Toward them.
