[Stranger POV]

Amelia spent her eighteenth birthday in almost complete silence. On the kitchen table was a simple cake that she had baked herself, even though she was never a fan of sweets. A few small balloons, bought on sale, were hanging in the corner, trying to liven up the empty room. However, the most striking place was at the table. The empty chairs placed in front of her seemed more eloquent than any words. They reminded us of those who were no longer there - parents who died in an accident five years ago, and friends who simply stopped calling over time.

The rain began to pound heavily on the windows and the cold filled the apartment. Amelia pulled the blanket higher, watching the flickering flames of the candles on the cake. She didn't feel like blowing them away. The thought of it being the only sound to break the silence made her feel even more alone.

When she finally gathered the courage to make her wish, she was interrupted by an unexpected sound - a knock on the door. At first she thought it was the wind moving the old frame, but the knocking came again, clear and urgent.

She opened the door with uncertainty. A stranger stood on the threshold, soaked to the skin. He looked the same age as her, although the tiredness and coldness on his face made him look older. Rain dripped from his wet hair onto his clothes, and he looked at her as if he wasn't sure if he was at the right place.