As Selene stared at the phone, her breathing gradually stopped. She put the phone in her hair and raised her head to meet Robert's gaze. There was a hint of guilt in his eyes, almost as if he had known this all along. The weight of unspoken words hung between them, thick and pressing, a tension neither could easily name.
Then, for a brief moment, fragments of the past flickered into view.
The night smelled of rust, damp paper, and the faint stench of decay from the lined-up dustbins. Their lids were bent, dented, and half-open, spilling jagged shadows onto the cracked concrete. It was not a place meant for conversation, yet here they were, voices sharp against the quiet hum of the city.
Catherine stood with her arms folded, her posture rigid, eyes scanning every movement. Kelvin stepped forward slightly, a shield, a guardian, his expression unreadable, muscles tense. The men who had come were calm—eerily calm. Their shoes were pristine, their movements measured. Their eyes, however, betrayed the cold precision of men who had killed before.
"This is pointless," one of them said, voice rough, low, jagged like gravel. "Your family… it belongs to us now."
Kelvin's brow furrowed. "Belongs to who? You? What kind of game is this?"
The man smirked, lips curling unnaturally. "You'll see soon enough. You'll understand that survival is the only deal you get."
Catherine's fingers flexed at her side. "If it's money, say it. If it's threats, say it. Don't waste time with riddles."
Another man stepped closer, boots scraping against concrete. "Money's nothing. Power is everything. And we want compliance. Silence. Obedience."
Kelvin's jaw tightened. "And if we refuse?"
The first man leaned in, shadowed face close enough that Kelvin could see the lines of age and cruelty. "Then you die. All of you. Don't even think about negotiating. There's no loophole, no clever escape. You disobey, you die."
Catherine inhaled sharply, not in panic but calculation. Her eyes met Kelvin's. "And our children?"
"They're part of it," the man said, almost casually. "They are the leverage. The tool. The reason you'll comply. If they ever cross paths with the others we control… they die. If you hesitate, they die. If you disobey, all of you die. Simple. Clear. No excuses."
Kelvin spat to the side, the metallic taste sharp. "You think terror makes obedience? You think fear gives you control?"
The man shrugged slowly. "Fear is only part of it. Understanding that choice is narrow… that gives you compliance."
Catherine's eyes darted to the bins, to the shadows, to every corner. "And this is your solution? To threaten, to manipulate? Tell me, who gave you the right to dictate life and death?"
The second man's voice cut through, harder, sharper. "No one gave it. We took it. And we will keep it. You either accept or you die. Your choice. One way or another, this is final."
Kelvin's shoulders stiffened. "We don't make threats. We make decisions. But you… you leave no decision to be made."
The man smiled, slow and cold. "Decisions are what you take from us, if you're smart. Otherwise, death is your teacher."
Silence fell heavy. The only sound was the faint rattle of bin lids in the wind, like the world itself acknowledging the ultimatum. Catherine exhaled, tension threading her spine. She met Kelvin's gaze again. Neither spoke, but they both knew the stakes. Survival demanded compliance, but it came at a cost they would carry forever.
Finally, the first man's lips twisted into another slow, knowing smile. "Remember… if you do this right, you live. If you hesitate, you all die. Simple. Short. And don't test us."
The scene slipped away as abruptly as it had arrived, leaving behind only a shadow of its weight, a moment etched in invisible ink on the past. Selene and Robert, back in the present, had only felt the lingering tension.
Time returned fully to the present. Selene and Robert were once more alone in their room, the world outside paused. The earlier conversation resumed, raw and unresolved.
"You knew all along, and you didn't tell me," Selene said, frustration and hurt threading her voice. Her eyes searched his, demanding clarity, demanding honesty she had not received before.
Robert met her gaze steadily, the weight of his duty pressing down. "I knew what I was sent to do," he admitted, voice calm yet heavy. "And I guess I can no longer hide it." His words settled in the room, shaping the space with the gravity of truth.
The room seemed heavier now, the air thick with tension. They had no knowledge of the hidden forces shaping the world outside these walls, the invisible hands guiding lives beyond their comprehension. Yet the stakes were immediate and pressing. Every glance, every gesture, every hesitation carried weight, a delicate balance between trust, danger, and survival.
Selene's mind raced, reconciling what she felt with what she did not know. Danger lingered faintly but constantly, like the hum before a storm. She understood instinctively that their choices, the people around them, and the path she walked were all influenced by unseen forces, histories and pacts that remained hidden. Robert, too, carried a burden between duty and instinct, between orders and the heart that refused to follow them now.
They moved cautiously within that shared space, every pause, every silence, every glance a negotiation. The past had left its imprint. The present demanded awareness, vigilance, and careful steps. And in that space, Selene and Robert remained — confronting what they knew, grappling with what they didn't, and moving forward together, in a world already shaped by forces beyond their understanding.