Page 31 of Carnival Mayhem

The pieces click into place—why she chose now to run, why she jumped at the chance to join the carnival. Freedom at eighteen, but what happened in those seven years?

I want to ask more, but the haunted look in her eyes stops me. Some wounds need time to heal before they can be exposed.

My fork clatters against the plate. “Wait—eighteen? I thought you were at least twenty.”

Flora’s eyes drop to her half-eaten burger. “No, I... I turned eighteen the day we met. At the masquerade.”

The diner suddenly feels too small, too warm. I run a hand through my hair, my mind racing through the implications. “Your birthday? That was your eighteenth birthday?”

She nods, still not meeting my eyes. “I had to wait until I was legally an adult, but officially, I haven’t aged out of the system until I’ve graduated high school.” She shrugs. “I couldn’t face staying there another six months.”

“Christ.” I lean back against the vinyl booth, my appetite gone. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Would it have mattered?” Her voice is barely above a whisper. “I needed to get away. The carnival was my only chance.”

I reach across the table, tilting her chin until she meets my gaze. “Of course, it would’ve mattered. Nash and I—we should’ve known.”

A tear slides down her cheek, and she quickly wipes it away. “Are you angry?”

“Not at you, angel.” Never at her. But at myself? That’s a different story. “We should’ve known so we could have made it special.”

Flora’s eyes meet mine, a small smile tugging at her lips. “But you did make it special,” she says, pushing her plate aside. “You and Nash gave me something I never thought I’d have—freedom.”

My chest tightens at her words. She reaches across the table, her fingers brushing against mine.

“It was the best birthday I can remember,” she continues, her voice soft but sure. “For the first time in seven years, I felt... safe. Protected. When you found me at the masquerade and helped me meet Tyson—” She pauses, collecting her thoughts. “You gave me a home, Colt. You and Nash both did.”

I swallow hard, remembering how terrified she’d looked that first night, hiding behind her mask. Now, here she sits, strong and determined, despite everything she’s been through.

“We’ll always protect you, angel,” I promise, squeezing her hand. “No matter what.”

She nods, and I see the trust in her eyes—the trust we’ve earned over this past week. The same trust she shows when flying through the air, knowing Nash and I will always catch her.

“I know,” she says simply, and those two words carry more weight than any lengthy declaration could.

16

FLORA

My hands shake as I stare at the unknown number on my phone screen. Another voicemail. The bathroom’s fluorescent lights flicker overhead as I press play, sliding down against the cold tile wall.

“You think you can just leave?” Tommy’s voice slithers through the speaker. “You belong to us, Flora. We’ll find you.”

I end the message, my chest tight and breathing shallow. Jake’s texts flood my notifications from yet another number I didn’t block. The words blur together—threats, promises of what they’ll do when they find me.

The carnival feels far away, even though I can hear the music and laughter outside. My safe haven suddenly seems paper-thin.

I scramble to my feet, needing to escape the suffocating confines of the bathroom stall. My vision tunnels as panic sets in. I throw open the door and bolt forward, slamming straight into someone.

“Oof!” A feminine voice exclaims as we collide.

I stumble back, my phone clattering to the floor. Through tear-blurred eyes, I make out a brunette woman about my age.

“I’m so sorry,” I gasp, dropping to retrieve my phone. My hands are trembling so badly I can barely grip them.

“Hey, are you okay?” The woman—Aurora, I think her name is—kneels beside me. Her eyes are filled with genuine concern. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

I try to speak, but my throat closes up. The phone buzzes with another message, making me flinch.

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