“The direction to the exhibition earlier… we passed this street, right?”

William’s voice held a trace of uncertainty as they walked along a narrow cobblestone path on the outskirts of Paris. The rain was light, not heavy, but enough to overwhelm Evelyn’s small umbrella as droplets began to slip through her hair and the edge of her jacket.

Evelyn sighed, glancing around. No taxis. No phone signal.

“We’re… lost, aren’t we?” she asked calmly, though her tone carried a hint of tired laughter.

William turned to her and chuckled. “Lost—in the most literal and cinematic sense.”

The rain fell harder. The narrow street shimmered, and the old hanging lamps between...