**Chapter 2: A Glimpse of the Past**

The warm sunshine cast a gentle glow over the park, illuminating the vibrant colors of the playground equipment and the lush green grass. Yelena Belova sat on a bench, watching her three-year-old daughter Emma ride her bike in circles around her. Emma's blonde pigtails bounced with each pedal stroke, and her laughter echoed through the air as she zoomed by, her eyes shining with excitement. Yelena couldn't help but smile as she watched her little girl enjoy the simple joys of childhood. It had been three years since Yelena abandoned her life as an assassin, leaving behind the moniker of the White Widow. She had dedicated herself to giving Emma a normal life, free from the shadows of her past. As she watched Emma ride her bike, Yelena felt a sense of peace wash over her. This was what she had always wanted – a chance to be a mother, to protect and care for her child. As Emma rode her bike towards her, Yelena stood up, catching her daughter in a warm hug. "You're getting so good at this, Emma!" she exclaimed, beaming with pride. Emma grinned, her eyes sparkling with happiness. Just then, a gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the nearby trees, and Yelena's instincts kicked in. She scanned the surrounding area, her eyes narrowing as she sensed a presence watching her. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but something felt off. A figure emerged from the trees, their eyes fixed intently on Yelena. She couldn't quite make out their features, but there was something in their gaze that sent a shiver down her spine. The figure was tall, dressed in dark clothing, and seemed to blend into the shadows. Yelena's heart began to beat a little faster, her senses on high alert. She knew that look, that feeling. It was a look that said she had been found, that her past was about to catch up with her. The figure took a step closer, and Yelena's hand instinctively went to her hip, where her katana, Yamato, was usually kept. It was a habit she had long since broken, but old instincts died hard. The figure stopped in front of her, its eyes locked on Yelena's. For a moment, they just stared at each other, the air thick with tension. Yelena could feel the weight of her past bearing down on her, the memories of her life as the White Widow threatening to consume her. "Yelena Belova," the figure said, its voice low and gravelly. "It's been a long time." Yelena's eyes narrowed, her mind racing with possibilities. Who was this person, and what did they want from her? She glanced down at Emma, who was watching the scene with wide eyes. "I think it's time for us to go," Yelena said, her voice firm. She wrapped her arm around Emma's shoulders, pulling her close. The figure didn't move, its eyes still fixed on Yelena's. "I'm not sure that's a good idea," it said, a hint of a smile playing on its lips. Yelena's instincts screamed at her to be cautious. She knew that she couldn't trust this person, not with Emma's safety at stake. With a calm she didn't quite feel, she began to walk away from the park, her eyes scanning the crowds for any sign of danger. As they walked, Yelena couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched, that her past was closing in on her. She quickened her pace, her senses on high alert, ready for anything. Little did she know, her new life was about to be turned upside down.