Page 45 of Silent Dust
His words wrapped around her like a warm embrace, and for the first time that day, hope pushed through the weight of her guilt.
“Let’s make a promise,” she said, voice steadying and firm. “I’ll keep working on my self-defense. I won’t let fear drive me anymore.”
Stephan’s eyes sparkled with pride. “That’s the spirit. And if fear ever tries to take the wheel again, you owe me a thousand push-ups — military style.”
She laughed softly, the tension easing from her shoulders. “Military style. No mercy.”
As the afternoon wore on and Flora and Stephan enjoyed their picnic, a nagging sensation crawled up Flora’s spine, sending chills through her. It was subtle at first—a flicker of movement in her peripheral vision, a rustle of leaves that seemed too deliberate. But as the sun dipped lower in the sky, the feeling intensified, like an itch she couldn’t scratch.
Bear was talking about the BBQ and how much fun they would have, plus the pranks the guys always played on each other, his laughter ringing out like music in the open air, but Flora’s attention drifted. She found herself scanning the woods, trying to see beyond the trees. It was as if an unseen presence lurked just beyond her line of sight, watching, waiting.
Flora shifted uneasily, her eyes scanning the trees beyond the clearing. Stephan could see the tension in her jaw, the way her fingers twitched at her side.
“Flora?” Stephan’s voice was gentle, pulling her back to the moment. He was watching her closely, concern written all over his face. “You really don’t look okay. If you’re feeling overwhelmed, we can head back.”
She shook her head slowly. “No, it’s not that. Yeah, I’m tired—but that’s not the problem.”
Stephan noticed the way her gaze flicked nervously toward the shadows at the edge of the woods. “Something feels off out here,” she said quietly. “Like… like we’re not alone. I keep getting this feeling that something is out here.”
The sun was dipping low, casting long shadows that seemed to stretch and twist with every passing second. The usual sounds of the forest—the rustling leaves, distant birdsong—felt sharper, almost like warnings.
Stephan’s expression tightened, his body shifting into alert mode. “Watching us?” he repeated, his voice pitched soft and low.
Flora nodded, swallowing hard. “Yeah. I don’t know why, but I can’t shake it. It’s like the woods are holding their breath, waiting for something.”
Knowing better than to ignore those spidey senses, he pulled out his phone, the screen illuminating his features in the fading light. His fingers moved swiftly over the screen, sending a group text before dialing Hank with a sense of urgency. “I’m calling the team. Just to be safe.”
Flora felt a mix of gratitude and fear. She appreciated his instinct to protect her, but the reminder that there was still a threat out there—the knowledge that Charlotte hadn’t been found—made her stomach churn. “Stephan, maybe I’m just overreacting. It’s probably nothing,” she tried to say, but the tremor in her voice betrayed her.
“I know,” Stephan said quietly, turning back to her with a look that mixed determination and worry. “But we can’t just brush off our gut feelings. If something feels wrong, we have to face it.”
Stephan’s whole demeanor snapping into SEAL mode—focused, efficient, ready for whatever came next. They quickly packed up the picnic, the bright colors of the blanket and food standing out against the heavy tension that had settled between them. The thought of Charlotte still out there somewhere lingered in the back of his mind, a shadow he couldn’t shake.
By the time they had everything packed, a familiar figure appeared—Moose, his presence a comforting anchor in thechaos. “Link took the kids home, and I came straight here,” he said.
Together, Stephan and Moose flanked Flora, their protective energy wrapping around her as they hurried to the car. The world around her felt distorted, the laughter and joy of the park now a distant echo, as if she were moving through a dream.
As they reached the car, Flora’s heart raced—not just from the fear that had gripped her, but also from the unshakeable feeling that something was about to change. The shadows lengthened, and with them, the weight of uncertainty loomed larger than ever.
29 - CHARLOTTE
Charlotte crouched behind a gnarled tree,her heart pounding with fury and anticipation. The rough bark scraped her skin, but she barely noticed—her focus locked on Flora and Bear, who sat nearby, blissfully unaware of her lurking presence. Their laughter and warmth gnawed at her; she longed to see them suffer and was determined to shatter their perfect moment.
Her body trembled with restless energy, eyes flickering beneath a deeply furrowed brow. Sweat beaded on her forehead, streaking her pale face while ragged, shallow breaths betrayed her frantic state. Stray strands of tangled purple and pink hair fell messily across her sharp features, wild as the storm swelling inside her.
Around her, the constant buzzing of insects filled the air—a maddening nuisance she oddly welcomed. Every sound, every irritation tightened the knot of fear and anger coiling inside.
The upcoming Saturday BBQ was her opportunity. Her mind raced through the roster of women who habitually surrounded Flora, weighing each as a potential disguise. She sifted through their faces, mannerisms, hairstyles—keys to blending in unnoticed. Lindsey with her sleek blonde bob and soft-spokencharm; Julia, whose infectious laugh paired with freckled skin and auburn curls made her distinctive; Maria, confident and always favoring floral dresses. Each presented a flawless mask if Charlotte could master the details.
She envisioned the painstaking process ahead: hours spent scrutinizing photos and videos, perfecting voices and gestures, refining makeup and attire until not even a close friend could see through the facade. She would charm the crowd, weaving seamlessly into the gathering, her true intent cloaked behind a practiced smile.
Her thoughts spun with schemes. The more she imagined, the more empowered she felt, reveling in the chaos she would unleash as the true puppet master.
Fragments of Flora and Bear’s quiet, tender exchange drifted to her ears—sickly sweet and enough to turn her stomach. They remained blind to her presence, unaware of the storm silently gathering beneath her calm exterior. Like a mountain lion stalking through underbrush, she moved silently, the restless woods sharpening her senses and molding into the perfect hunting ground.
Once isolated, she would strike decisively—revealing dominance, turning Flora’s world upside down. Her smirk deepened at the thought; soon, everyone would see who truly held the power.
Slipping deeper into the shadows, her paranoia sharpened with every snap of twig and distant rustle. Fleeting shifts in Flora and Bear’s glance haunted her—were they sensing her presence? Had her careful concealment failed? Still, she forced steady breaths, becoming one with the foliage. Each movement was deliberate and silent, tension coiling tight within her.
