Chapter Three – The Coffee Spill

The next morning, Aaliya felt ridiculous.

She almost convinced herself not to go. The letter’s instructions still lay on her desk, heavy with absurdity. Spill coffee on a man with a navy scarf. Don’t apologize. Don’t clean it. Walk away.

It sounded more like a cruel prank than destiny. But something in her—curiosity, or desperation—dragged her back to the café.

She ordered a cappuccino, heart racing, and scanned the room. Students hunched over laptops. An old couple sharing pastries. The barista humming softly as she cleaned mugs.

No navy scarf.

Aaliya sat down, every nerve buzzing. Minutes dragged. She sipped her coffee, telling herself this was stupid. Maybe the letter-writer was laughing at her right now.

Then the bell above the door chimed.

A man stepped in, tall, with messy dark hair and a navy scarf looped neatly around his neck. He carried a stack of folders, looking distracted, his phone pressed between shoulder and ear.

Aaliya’s grip tightened on her cup.

No. This is insane.

And yet… wasn’t this exactly what the letter predicted?

Her pulse hammered. She stood, coffee trembling in her hand, and as he passed her table—

she collided with him.

The cappuccino spilled across his coat and onto the scarf.

The man gasped, jerking back. “What the—!”

Aaliya froze. Every instinct screamed at her to apologize, to grab napkins, to fix it. But the words from the letter echoed in her mind: Do not apologize. Do not clean it. Walk away.

Her throat tightened. Without a word, she turned and left the café.

She didn’t look back.

Getting out of the Cafe, she turned herself towards the road side .

" Ahhh!!, why do I need to listen to that aimless letter"

She couldn't help but to think what she just did...

She went to at bookstore after that but couldn't able to focus on the work.She wanted to take that scene out of her mind but couldn't ....

"I shouldn't have done that to that men " she think feeling guilty.

That night, sleep refused to come. Shame gnawed at her. She kept replaying the man’s shocked face, his ruined scarf. What if I ruined someone’s day? What if I ruined his life?

By morning, she was ready to forget the whole thing—until she turned on the news.

The man with the navy scarf filled the screen. A reporter’s voice crackled:

*“Local businessman Salman Rafiq narrowly escaped injury last night. His office caught fire after he left work earlier than usual. Sources say he was delayed by a coffee spill at a nearby café…”*

Aaliya’s stomach dropped.

She clutched the edge of the table, her breath sharp.

If she hadn’t spilled that coffee, he would have been in that building.

The letter had saved him.

Or… controlled him.

And her.

⚡️Now the mystery deepens—Aaliya starts to realize the letters aren’t just creepy… they’re powerful.

So that all for today

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