I was spending a peaceful afternoon at the park with my boyfriend. The sun was warm, the breeze was soft, and we were sitting on the grass, laughing at something only the two of us would find funny. It was one of those perfect, quiet moments — until a woman I’d never seen before approached us. She looked to be in her late 30s, walked with a strange urgency, and didn’t even make eye contact with my boyfriend. She came straight to me, pressed a sanitary pad into my hand, and said, “You need this.” Her tone was serious, almost commanding. I blinked, unsure how to respond. I had just been to the restroom — I wasn’t on my period. Still, something in her eyes made me pause. “Thanks?” I mumbled. But she was already gone, vanishing into the crowd like she’d never been there.

My boyfriend laughed it off. “Weird,” he said, returning to his phone. But my instincts were louder than logic. Something about that woman, the way she had delivered the pad, unsettled me. I excused myself and headed to the restroom just to make sure. Nothing. No signs of a period, no issues — everything was normal. But when I returned to our spot, the pad still clutched in my hand, I couldn’t shake the sense of unease that followed me. I sat down, and curiosity got the better of me. I slowly unwrapped it, feeling ridiculous for even caring. At first, it looked completely ordinary. But as I turned it over, I noticed something scribbled on the back, written in smudged red ink — almost like it had been done in a rush. Three chilling words: “Trust him.”

I froze, heart hammering in my chest. Trust him? My eyes darted to my boyfriend, who was still scrolling on his phone like nothing had happened. Was this message about him? Who would go to such lengths to deliver something so strange and cryptic? And why through me? I didn’t recognize the woman, and she hadn’t spoken to anyone else. It was like she had been sent for this single purpose. My brain couldn’t stop spiraling — was it a warning? Or was it the opposite? Was someone telling me he was safe, trustworthy, good? But how could a stranger know that? The message felt too personal, too direct. And in that moment, the weight of those two little words became unbearable. It felt like I had stumbled into the middle of a story I didn’t understand.

I clutched the wrapper, trying to steady my breathing. Something told me that this wasn’t over — that this strange woman, this odd message, was the beginning of something I hadn’t even begun to uncover. I looked at my boyfriend again, trying to see him through new eyes. I didn’t know what was coming next, but I knew one thing: whatever this was, it had found me for a reason.