Emma took a deep breath, her small hands clenching into fists, and began to sing. It was a song her mother always sang to her when she was scared of the dark. Her voice was shaky at first, but she pushed through, singing louder and louder with each step she took. The words echoed down the empty street, bouncing off the brick buildings and filling the air with a melody that was both innocent and powerful.
The man in black paused, seemingly caught off guard by the unexpected concert. Emma didn’t stop. Her heart was still pounding, but she kept her pace steady, singing with all the courage she could muster.
As she approached the entrance to her apartment, she noticed Mrs. Thompson peeking out from her window. The elderly woman had always been kind to Emma, often offering her cookies or a warm smile on her way home. Emma waved vigorously, still singing. Mrs. Thompson’s eyes grew wide, and within moments, she was at her door, greeting Emma with open arms.
