The Echo in the Mist

The mist hung thick over the river, curling around the iron arch of the bridge like ghostly fingers. Beneath it, the water flowed dark and steady, its surface barely visible beneath the swirling fog. Soft footsteps echoed on the damp stone path leading up to the bridge, the sound reluctant to disturb the stillness.

Eva walked alone, her hands buried deep in the pockets of her coat, eyes fixed ahead but unfocused. The bridge had always been her sanctuary—a place to think, to escape. Lately, the world felt heavier, a weight pressing down on her, though she couldn’t explain why. Coming here eased that weight, if only for a while. Tonight, the fog seemed a shield, wrapping her in solitude.

She stopped at the centre of the bridge, leaning against the cold metal rail. The fog swallowed the city lights, and everything beyond the bridge seemed to vanish into nothingness. Eva closed her eyes, inhaling deeply, trying to let the peace of the river seep into her bones. She was tired—tired of feeling like she was waiting for something nameless, something just out of reach.

“Beautiful night.”

Eva’s eyes snapped open. The voice was deep, unfamiliar, and much too close. She turned quickly, instinctively stepping back. A man stood a few feet from her, his silhouette barely visible through the fog. He was tall, wearing a long coat, hands tucked casually in his pockets. His face was obscured, but the way he stood—calm, unhurried—set her on edge.

She hadn’t heard him approach.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,” the man said, his tone warm, with a hint of a smile. But Eva didn’t relax. She hated surprises, especially when they came out of nowhere in the middle of the night.

“It’s fine,” she replied, though it wasn’t. “Didn’t see you there.”

The man took a step closer, and Eva resisted the urge to move away again. He looked ordinary enough—dark hair, pale skin, clean-shaven. But there was something off about him, a stillness that felt… wrong.

“I come here often,” the man said, leaning against the rail beside her, gazing out into the fog. “It’s a good place to think.”

“Yeah,” Eva muttered, glancing sideways at him. She was already planning her exit. She wasn’t in the mood for a conversation with a stranger, especially one who had appeared out of the mist like a ghost. Her pulse quickened, though she couldn’t decide if it was fear or discomfort.

“You look like you’ve got a lot on your mind,” the man continued, still staring into the fog. His voice was soft, almost soothing, but it only made Eva more tense.

“Don’t we all?” she said, forcing a tight smile. She shifted slightly, trying to put a bit more distance between them without making it obvious.

The man finally turned to look at her. His eyes were sharp, intense, and for a moment, Eva felt an unsettling sense that he could see straight through her. “True,” he said. “But some secrets weigh heavier than others.”

Eva’s breath caught. She hadn’t mentioned secrets. She stared at him, her heart pounding, her mind racing. Who was this man? Why did he seem so dangerous?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, her voice colder now, more defensive.

The man tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable. “We all have them,” he said simply. “Some we carry for years, hoping they’ll fade. Others—” He trailed off, his gaze returning to the river. “Others are too heavy to bear alone.”

Eva’s mouth went dry. She opened her mouth to say something—anything—but the words wouldn’t come. How did this stranger seem to know exactly what she was feeling? She had never told anyone about the guilt, the shame, the thing she couldn’t shake. The thing she couldn’t forgive herself for.

“I don’t—”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

The words hit her like a punch in the stomach. She recoiled, her heart racing, her breath coming in shallow gasps. She hadn’t told anyone. No one knew. She had buried it so deep, for so long, she sometimes convinced herself it wasn’t real. But it was. Every day, it gnawed at her, a shadow she couldn’t escape.

“How—” Her voice cracked, and she stopped, swallowing hard. “How do you know?”

The man faced her fully now, his expression soft but unyielding. “I know because I’ve been where you are,” he said. “Carrying something that wasn’t mine to carry. Letting it eat away at me. It’s a dark place.”

Eva shook her head, backing away again. This was too much, too strange. Who was he? How did he know? She felt as if the ground was slipping from beneath her, the fog closing in, suffocating her.

“I don’t understand,” she whispered.

The man’s gaze softened, and for the first time, he looked almost… sad. “You don’t need to,” he said. “But you can’t keep running from it. The guilt. The fear. You think it’ll go away if you bury it deep enough, but it won’t. Trust me.”

Eva’s throat tightened, tears prickling at the corners of her eyes. She didn’t want to hear this. She didn’t want to be here, with this strange man, feeling exposed and vulnerable in a way she hadn’t allowed herself to feel in years. But she couldn’t move. She couldn’t speak. It was as though he had reached inside her and pulled out everything she had tried so hard to hide.

“What do you want from me?” she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.

The man stepped closer, his gaze steady. “I don’t want anything from you,” he said. “But you need to forgive yourself, Eva.”

Her heart stopped. Ice shot through her veins.

He knew her name.

Before she could react—before she could speak, run, or even breathe—the man smiled a small, sad smile, and stepped back into the fog. His silhouette faded, swallowed by the mist, and within seconds, he was gone.

Eva stood frozen, her mind reeling. She looked around, wide-eyed, searching for him, but there was no trace. It was as if he had never been there at all. The only sound was the river below and the soft rustling of the wind.

Slowly, Eva turned back to the railing, her hands trembling. Her mind raced with questions, with fear, but beneath it all, something else stirred—something quiet, something she hadn’t felt in a long time.

Relief.

The man had been right. She had been carrying the guilt for so long—the memory of that night, the accident—that she had started to believe it was her fault. That if she had done something different, been somewhere else, she could have saved him. But she couldn’t have. She knew that now, even though the knowledge still ached. She had to forgive herself. Maybe not tonight, maybe not tomorrow, but someday.

Eva took a deep breath, feeling the cool night air fill her lungs. The mist still wrapped around her, thick and impenetrable, but it no longer felt suffocating. It felt… cleansing. As though the past was drifting away with the fog, slowly but surely.

She didn’t know who the man was, or how he had known her secret. Maybe he had been real, maybe he hadn’t. But his words lingered, echoing in her mind, steady and sure.

Some secrets are too heavy to bear alone.

With one last glance at the fog-covered river, Eva turned and walked away from the bridge, her footsteps steady, her heart a little lighter than before.