Shadows of Revenge

5. The First Encounter

Becky had been watching the woman for days. The mysterious figure, the one from the club, was no ordinary woman. She was always composed, too calm, and too perfectly timed. Becky couldn't shake the feeling that something was off, even though her gut had no hard evidence yet. Every time Becky thought she was getting closer, the woman would slip away like smoke between her fingers. But Becky wasn't about to give up—not after everything that had happened.

It was late afternoon. The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the street as Becky sat in her car, parked a little away from the primary school where Freen worked. Freen—or whoever this woman really was—had been teaching all day, her demeanor nothing short of kind, nurturing, and sweet. To the outside world, she was the perfect teacher, but Becky knew there was something darker beneath the surface.

Becky watched as Freen left the school, her soft, composed smile plastered on her face. She looked so innocent, but Becky's instincts told her it was a mask. She followed her as she always did, keeping a careful distance, trailing her as she made her way home. It had been like this for a week now, Freen going about her seemingly normal life while Becky's suspicion only grew.

Freen had noticed the police officer tailing her days ago. A shadow lingering behind her, watching her every move. It amused her, really. Becky thought she was being discreet, but Freen knew exactly where she was at all times. It was almost cute—the rookie cop thinking she was unnoticed. Freen decided it was time to play along, to make Becky dance to her tune.

Today, she would finally introduce herself properly.

As Freen turned the corner toward her apartment, Becky followed, walking faster, her heartbeat accelerating slightly with each step. She was determined to confront her, to question this woman who seemed too good to be true. But as she rounded the corner, Freen had disappeared. Confused, Becky looked around, her eyes darting between the buildings. There was no sign of her.

Just as she thought she had lost her, something grabbed her from behind. A hand clumsily reached for her, as if trying to restrain her, but the grip was too weak. Becky spun around swiftly, grabbing the woman's arm and twisting it behind her back in a fluid motion.

"Hey, stop hitting me," Becky barked, her voice steady but low.

Freen, pretending to be flustered, whimpered softly, "Help, help! A thief is following me...someone help!" Her voice was a perfect blend of innocence and fear, like a damsel in distress. Her wide eyes looked up at Becky, filled with mock panic.

"Shh," Becky hissed, pressing her hand over Freen's mouth, glancing around to make sure no one had heard the commotion. "I'm a cop, not a thief."

Freen's eyes widened in mock surprise, and she nodded obediently, her lips soft against Becky's hand. She gestured with her free hand for Becky to remove her hand from her mouth. Slowly, Becky obliged, easing her grip but still keeping Freen's arm pinned.

Freen turned to face her, her face a mask of innocence, her eyes wide and almost childlike. "I thought you were going to rob me," she whispered, her voice quivering ever so slightly. "Why are you following me?"

For a brief moment, Becky's resolve wavered. This woman, standing before her, seemed so delicate, so fragile—so harmless. She looked nothing like the calculating figure Becky had seen at the club. It was as if she was a completely different person, a sweet, innocent schoolteacher who had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"I'm...I'm not following you," Becky lied, but the uncertainty in her voice was hard to ignore. She felt a strange pull in her chest, an odd sense of protectiveness she didn't understand. Why was she feeling this way? This was the same woman she had suspected of being involved with John's disappearance. The same woman she was sure had been involved in Sarah's case.

But looking at her now, standing so close, Becky couldn't help but wonder if she had been wrong.

Freen tilted her head slightly, her expression softening as if she was contemplating whether to believe Becky's words. "But you've been watching me...haven't you? I've seen you near the school. Why would you be watching me if I've done nothing wrong?" Her voice was gentle, innocent—almost too innocent.

Becky's grip loosened further, her mind racing. Freen's soft eyes locked with hers, pulling her in. Becky swallowed hard. "I...I wasn't sure," she admitted, feeling a bit off-balance. "I had to be sure. You were at the club with John. I saw you."

Freen blinked, her lips parting in surprise. "John?" she repeated softly, her brow furrowing in confusion. "Who is John? I don't know anyone named John. You must be mistaken."

Becky hesitated, searching Freen's face for any sign of deception, but there was nothing—only confusion and innocence. Her mind screamed at her to stay focused, to not fall for this act, but her body betrayed her, the tension slowly leaving her muscles.

"I...I could've sworn," Becky muttered, trailing off, suddenly feeling unsure of herself.

Freen, sensing the shift, stepped closer, her voice low and soothing. "I think there's been a misunderstanding. I'm just a teacher. I don't go to clubs, and I don't know anyone named John." Her lips curved into a small, understanding smile, as if she was forgiving Becky for her suspicion. "You don't have to follow me. I'm not who you think I am."

For a moment, Becky stood frozen, staring into Freen's eyes. She wanted to believe her, wanted to trust the softness in her voice, but deep down, a part of her screamed that this was all wrong.

Freen gently reached up, placing her hand on Becky's arm, her touch soft and warm. "You can let me go now," she said softly, her eyes never leaving Becky's. "I'm not going to hurt you."

Becky's heart raced, and she slowly released Freen's arm, stepping back, still watching her cautiously. There was something about this woman—something that didn't add up. But in this moment, she couldn't figure out what it was.

Freen gave her one last smile, a smile that seemed almost too perfect, and turned to leave. As she walked away, Becky's mind was a whirlpool of conflicting emotions. Had she been wrong? Was this woman really just an innocent schoolteacher?

But as Freen disappeared into the shadows, Becky couldn't shake the nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach. Something was off—terribly off. And she was going to find out what it was.

.............

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