After the brutal murder of her mother and baby sister, Dahlia is left shattered, sent to live with her cold aunt, burdened by grief and a sense of disconnection. Haunted by memories and warnings about her father, Marcus, a ruthless killer, Dahlia fe...
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I walked numbly beside my aunt through the aisles of the supermarket, the sound of the cart wheels grinding against the linoleum floor barely registering in my mind. My aunt was speaking- something about groceries-but her words blurred into meaningless background noise. I wasn't really there; my body moved on autopilot while my mind wandered, locked in the dark labyrinth of my thoughts.
I didn't forget what my aunt had done, but I only went out because I was forced to.
Suddenly, I stopped in the middle of the aisle, my eyes catching on something-or rather, someone. A girl stood a few feet away, staring at me with wide, disbelieving eyes. There was a flicker of recognition I didn't want to acknowledge: Elara, the girl from my old school. The one person who had stood up for me while others whispered, laughed, and made my life a living hell.
Elara had a bold presence, with thick, curly hair and sharp, defined features. Her skin glowed under the supermarket's lights, and her captivating eyes held a guarded look, like someone who had learned to hide their deepest emotions. She radiated strength and resilience, an air of mystery and independence surrounding her. But beneath that surface, I sensed a vulnerability she didn't easily share. She looked like someone used to surviving alone but longing for something more.
"Dahlia?" she called out, her voice shaky and unsure. "Is that really you?"
I stared at her, my face a blank mask. I didn't respond or move. Elara took a step closer, a small, hesitant smile creeping onto her lips. She seemed nervous, unsure of how to approach me after all this time.
"It's been so long..." she said softly, treading carefully. "You look so different. I... I'm so sorry I didn't reach out after everything that happened."
Still, I said nothing. My cold, hollow eyes stayed locked on her, but my mind was elsewhere, detached. Elara had been the only one who ever tried to help, but now that felt like another life-a life that didn't belong to me anymore.
"I-I miss you, Dahlia. I always wondered what happened after... after..." Her voice trailed off, glancing down awkwardly.
Before she could finish, my aunt reappeared, carrying a bag full of groceries. She glanced between the two of us, her brow furrowing slightly.
"Who's this?" my aunt asked, not unkindly but with a faint air of suspicion.
"Elara," the girl answered quickly, offering a small smile. "I went to school with Dahlia. We were... friends."
Marissa raised an eyebrow and smiled faintly. "Oh, I see. Nice to meet you, Elara."
Elara nodded, then turned back to me, sadness and concern evident in her eyes. "It was really good to see you again. I-" She hesitated, pulling my phone from the pocket of my jacket without asking and typing in her number. "Please... call me sometime? I really mean it."
