Sara was behind the counter, wiping the same mug for the fourth time. Her hands trembled slightly, but she kept her movements mechanical and repetitive. Anything to look normal.
The meeting was over, but the weight of Boyd's words still pressed against her chest like a concrete slab.
A woman. Wearing a dress.
Every pair of eyes that landed on any woman in a dress carried the same unspoken question: Was it you?
Sara felt the stares. Not all of them aimed directly at her, but enough to make her heart race. An elderly woman by the window watched her for too long. A middle-aged man frowned when she passed with a tray.
Paranoia or intuition? Impossible to tell.
Nathan was a few steps ahead, straightening chairs that didn't need straightening. His movements were rigid, too controlled. His eyes constantly scanned the room, always returning to her.
Stop it, Nathan, she thought, gripping the mug tighter. You're going to give me away.
When the crowd finally began to disperse, Nathan approached. His face was paler than usual, his jaw locked.
"Sara..."
"Nathan, you should go." She cut him off before he could finish, her voice louder than she intended. She quickly lowered it. "You still have a lot of work to do."
He opened his mouth to protest, but something in her expression made him step back.
"Alright," he said reluctantly. "We'll talk later."
Nathan turned and left, his footsteps too heavy against the floor. Sara watched him disappear through the door, letting out a shaky breath.
As soon as he was gone, she went back to work. Picked up plates. Wiped tables. Smiled at the few remaining customers.
Pretend normal. Be invisible. Survive one more day.
Her eyes drifted involuntarily to the table where the Matthews family was sitting. The father was talking to Boyd and the priest. The mother held her younger son with that protective touch Sara remembered from when her own mother was still alive.
And the boy...
Ethan.
Curious eyes. Easy smile.
Innocent.
Lastly, she looked at Daniel and found him watching her. It wasn't a casual glance. It was evaluative. As if he could read every lie written across her face.
He knows it was me.
And then the voices returned.
Different from the night before, when they had been calm, persuasive, almost maternal. This time they were aggressive, sharp, commanding.
"Sara!"
She squeezed her eyes shut, clenching her fists until her nails bit into her palms.
No. Not now. Please, not now.
"You need to finish what you started."
"I won't do that," she whispered to herself, so quietly she could barely hear it. Her lips hardly moved.
"The boy. He is the key."
"No."
"Kill the boy. And you will all be free."
The pain came suddenly.
Sharp. Burning. As if someone had pressed a red-hot iron into her left forearm.
Sara almost screamed. Her hand flew to her arm, fingers digging into her skin in desperation.
The heat was unbearable. Pulsing. Alive.
Tian-Chen, who was nearby organizing cups, turned around. "Sara? Are you alright?"
Sara couldn't answer. The pain stole all the air from her lungs.
And burned into her skin, as if branded with a cattle iron, were words.
Twisted letters, faintly pulsing with a reddish glow along the edges.
KILL THE BOY
Sara opened her mouth. No sound came out.
The letters pulsed faster. The heat intensified. The pain exploded from her arm through the rest of her body in violent waves.
And then, just as quickly as it appeared, it vanished.
The mark. The heat. Everything.
The world began to spin. The edges of her vision darkened. The floor tilted violently to the left.
Sara collapsed.
Her body hit the cold floor with a dull, heavy sound. Her limbs began to jerk violently, uncontrollably, striking the tiles in an irregular, brutal rhythm.
Tian-Chen dropped the cups, glass shattering across the floor.
"Help! Someone help!" Her voice came out high and desperate, cutting through the language barrier with pure panic. "It's Sara!"
Kenny was the first to move, rushing behind the counter. Boyd and the priest followed right after.
Sara convulsed on the floor, her eyes rolled back, showing only white.
"Back up!" Boyd shouted, pushing the onlookers away. "Give her space!"
Kenny knelt beside her, carefully turning her onto her side to prevent choking. Tian-Chen held Sara's head, keeping it from striking the floor again.
Daniel, who was near the Matthews' table, watched with narrowed eyes.
He had been paying attention to the conversation at the table, but part of his focus had been on Sara the entire time.
He had noticed her from the start. The mug being cleaned over and over. Fingers gripping the cloth too tightly. The furtive glances. Movements too mechanical to be natural.
Guilt. Fear. And something else he couldn't quite name.
Sara Myers. The friendly waitress. The woman who heard voices promising freedom.
The woman who believed them. And now, the voices were collecting their price.
[Spontaneous seizure in a previously healthy person. What a remarkable coincidence.]
"Not suspicious at all."
"I'm going to get Kristi," he said aloud, already turning on his heel and moving away from the table.
"Will she be okay?" Julie asked beside Ethan.
"She will," Tabitha replied, but her voice was far too uncertain to be comforting. She pulled Ethan closer, covering his eyes with her hand. "Don't look, sweetheart."
Jim stood tense, unsure whether to help or stay back. His engineer's instinct wanted to fix things, but this had no instruction manual.
Meanwhile, Daniel was already outside the diner.
He started running at a controlled pace down the street, boots striking cracked asphalt. Air filled his lungs in measured breaths. No panic. Just efficiency.
He spotted Kristi a few houses ahead, walking slowly with her hands in her pockets, staring at the ground, lost in thought.
"Kristi!" Daniel called, picking up speed.
She looked up, startled. "Daniel? What—"
"Sara had a seizure at the diner. Just now."
The change was instant. Her shoulders squared. Her gaze sharpened with clinical focus. Exhaustion gave way to professional adrenaline.
"A seizure? Out of nowhere?"
"Completely out of nowhere." A technical lie. "One second she was cleaning mugs, the next she was shaking on the floor like she'd been electrocuted."
Kristi broke into a run. Daniel matched her pace, boots striking in sync.
"How long did the seizure last?" she asked between breaths.
"It was still happening when I left."
"Shit."
They reached the diner in under two minutes. Kristi shoved the door open, entering like a medical storm.
Sara was no longer convulsing.
She sat on the floor, leaning against the wall behind the counter. Tian-Chen held a glass of water to her lips as she drank in small, trembling sips. Her face was colorless, slick with sweat, her eyes unfocused like someone waking from a nightmare.
Kenny crouched beside her, one hand on her shoulder, speaking softly.
"Sara." Kristi knelt in front of her, automatically taking her pulse. Fingers pressed against skin, counting beats. "Can you hear me?"
Daniel stayed near the door, hands in his pockets. He noticed how Sara kept glancing at her arm, as if checking whether something was still there.
Sara blinked slowly, as though returning from far away. "I... yes. I hear you."
"Do you know where you are?"
"The diner." Her voice was hoarse, barely audible.
"Do you know what day it is?"
Sara hesitated, blinking rapidly. "No... I'm not sure."
Kristi exchanged a worried look with Kenny before refocusing. She pulled a small flashlight from her pocket and shone it into Sara's eyes, checking her pupils.
"Follow the light."
Sara obeyed, but her movements were slow, disconnected.
Kristi put the flashlight away and gently palpated Sara's head, checking for swelling or cuts, fingers moving methodically over her scalp.
"Did you hit your head?"
"I... I think so." Sara touched the back of her skull and winced.
"Nausea? Dizziness?"
"Everything... everything is spinning."
Kristi nodded, retrieving the stethoscope hanging from her neck. She placed the cold disk against Sara's chest through her shirt.
"Take a deep breath for me."
Sara complied, her chest rising and falling unevenly.
After a few seconds, Kristi stepped back and stowed the stethoscope. "Heart rate elevated but stabilizing. Breathing a little shallow, but within post-seizure expectations."
She looked Sara directly in the eyes, serious. "Have you ever had seizures before?"
"No." The answer came too fast, almost defensive. "Never."
"Any family history?"
"Not that I know of."
Daniel narrowed his eyes.
"She knows exactly why she seized. And she's not going to say."
[Of course she won't. Because 'Hi, doctor, the voices in my head told me to kill a child and burned my arm' is a hard conversation to start.]
Kristi frowned, clearly dissatisfied. "Did you take anything today? Medication? Alcohol?"
"No." Sara shook her head, then stopped mid-motion, pressing a hand to her forehead. "Just... coffee."
"Did you sleep well last night?"
The silence that followed lasted a second too long.
"Not really," Sara admitted, finally looking down.
Kristi exhaled slowly, rubbing her hair. "Alright. You're not working today. You're staying under observation at the clinic."
"I'm fine—" Sara began, but Kristi cut her off with a look that allowed no argument.
"You're not. You had a seizure, Sara. That's not 'fine.' I need to monitor your vitals for the next few hours." Her voice was firm, not cruel. "This is not negotiable."
Tian-Chen placed a hand on Sara's shoulder, squeezing gently. "She's right."
Sara opened her mouth to argue again, but the words died in her throat. She just nodded, defeated, shoulders slumping.
"I'm closing the diner for the rest of the day," Tian-Chen said, looking around. Most people had already left, but a few curious onlookers still whispered from a distance.
Kenny stood. "Mom, after what happened at the clinic last night... I want Dad to come live with us. It's safer."
Tian-Chen looked at her son, her eyes misting. She nodded, unable to trust her voice.
Boyd, who had watched silently from the counter, finally spoke. "Daniel, can you take Sara to the clinic in your vehicle?"
Daniel shrugged. "Sure. I can turn it into an ambulance for a moment."
[Such generosity. Saint Francis would be proud.]
"Quiet."
"Kenny, go with them," Boyd continued. "After that, ask some volunteers to help board up the clinic windows."
Kenny nodded. "Got it. But what about Jade?" He pointed to the back table, where Jade still slept deeply, head resting on folded arms, a small pool of drool at the corner of his mouth. "He's still out cold."
Donna, who had remained seated throughout the chaos, stood up with a chair scrape. "I'll wait for Daniel to get back. Then we'll all head to Colony House. I can wake Jade and bring him along."
Boyd nodded.
Sara, supported by Kenny and Tian-Chen, protested weakly. "I'm already better. I don't need to go to the clinic—"
"Yes, you do," Kristi cut in again, leaving no room for debate. "You passed out. Hit your head. Had a seizure for almost a minute. This is serious."
Tian-Chen squeezed her shoulder with firm, maternal resolve. She didn't speak. She didn't need to.
Sara closed her eyes, tears threatening. She nodded slowly, too exhausted to fight.
Kenny helped her to her feet. She could barely stand, legs trembling like thin branches in the wind. As they passed Daniel at the door, she looked up.
He held her gaze for two seconds. Neutral. Evaluative.
Sara immediately looked away, her face going even paler.
"Yes. She knows that I know. Or at least suspects it."
[And now what?]
"I'll talk to her. After everyone leaves the clinic."
[Talk about what? 'Hey Sara, so I heard voices told you to kill a child. Want to chat over coffee?']
"Something like that. I need to know if she'll resist or if I'll have to intervene."
[And if she actually tries?]
Daniel didn't answer right away. He watched Sara being helped outside, her steps unsteady, her body curved as if carrying the weight of the world.
"Then I'll have to make sure she can't."
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