The afternoon sun filtered through the flower shop windows,
casting soft golden light on the bouquets.
The boy was helping an elderly customer choose a set of lilies—
his hands steadying, his voice soft but calm.
For once, he looked… peaceful.
Then the bell above the door chimed.
Jack walked in.
No anger.
No harsh footsteps.
No cold glare.
Just a casual smile and a relaxed posture—
too unnatural to be real.
"Hey," Jack said, leaning against the counter.
"How's business?"
The boy froze for half a second—
not in terror this time,
but confusion.
He gave a small, awkward nod.
"Um… it's okay."
Jack smirked, amused by the boy's discomfort.
"You're getting better at this," he said,
gesturing to the flower arrangements.
"You've improved a lot."
The boy blinked again,
unsure what to do with this… kindness.
"T-Thanks," he said quietly.
Jack stepped closer, hands in his pockets.
"You know…" he continued,
voice casual,
"you're not as weak as I thought."
The boy stiffened.
The words were meant to sound like a compliment—
but coming from Jack,
they felt like a knife wrapped in velvet.
"Oh," the boy answered softly,
unsure whether to smile or run.
Jack chuckled lightly.
"You really are something else."
But the boy couldn't understand the warmth in Jack's tone.
No one had ever talked to him like this—
especially not someone as intense as Jack.
He shifted nervously.
"…Is something wrong?"
Jack raised a brow.
"Wrong? Why would anything be wrong?"
He laughed.
"You're too paranoid."
The boy swallowed.
Maybe he was.
Maybe he wasn't.
---
Across the shop,
she stood by the lavender display,
watching them.
Jack laughing.
Jack smiling.
Jack being… friendly.
Her stomach twisted.
Jack never behaved this way.
Not genuinely.
Not without a reason.
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
He's planning something.
She could feel it.
Every smile Jack gave the boy felt rehearsed.
Too smooth.
Too calculated.
She stepped closer.
"Jack," she said, voice steady,
"can I talk to you for a second?"
Jack didn't look at her.
"Later," he answered, brushing her off.
"I'm in the middle of a conversation."
A chill ran down her spine.
The boy tried to hide his nervousness,
but she could see his hands trembling slightly.
Jack leaned in just a bit toward him.
"You know…" Jack said softly,
"we should hang out sometime.
Just you and me.
Clear the air."
The boy's eyes widened.
"J-Just us?"
Jack nodded.
"Yeah. What? You scared?"
"No," the boy lied quietly.
Jack smirked.
"Good."
From across the counter,
she clenched her jaw.
Her heart pounded hard.
Her instincts screamed.
Jack was pulling him in.
Slowly.
Smoothly.
Cleverly.
And the boy—
the boy who wanted peace so badly—
was beginning to believe it.
Jack turned slightly, catching her gaze.
He smiled.
Not warmly.
Not kindly.
A smile that said:
"You know.
But you can't stop me."
She tightened her grip on the counter.
He's planning something.
He's getting close on purpose.
And if I don't warn him…
Jack will break him again.
Her breath caught.
Because this time,
the boy wouldn't survive it.
The flower shop door chimed softly—
not with the light, cheerful ring that accompanied customers,
but with a slow, heavy sound
that felt like a shift in the air itself.
The boy looked up from the bouquet he was arranging.
She stepped inside.
A woman in her mid-twenties.
Tall, elegant, dressed in a long black coat that flowed behind her.
Her dark hair fell perfectly straight down her back,
and her eyes—
sharp, observant, frighteningly intelligent—
scanned the room with the precision of a hawk.
Every movement was controlled.
Refined.
Quietly dominant.
The kind of presence that made people stand straighter
and second-guess their words.
Jack, who had been leaning casually near the counter,
froze.
His eyes widened slightly—
not in fear of punishment,
but in respect so deep
it bordered on intimidation.
"S-Sally," he muttered under his breath.
She didn't look at him.
Her gaze was fixed on the boy.
She studied him silently,
as if dissecting him with her mind.
Not judging—
calculating.
Then she turned her head,
slowly,
to her younger sister.
Her expression softened—just a little.
"You're hurt," she said quietly.
Her sister swallowed.
"I… yes. I was. But I'm okay now."
Sally stepped closer,
her heels clicking softly against the wooden floor.
Jack instinctively moved aside,
as if the air around her demanded space.
She cupped her sister's cheek gently.
"You should have called me sooner."
"I didn't want to worry you," her sister whispered.
Sally's jaw tightened.
"You always worry me."
For a moment, the softness returned.
Then she let go
and turned to Jack—
eyes sharp as glass.
"I heard what happened."
Jack lowered his eyes.
"It wasn't— I didn't mean for her to get hurt—"
Sally lifted one hand.
Silence fell instantly.
"I don't care about your excuses," she said coldly.
"I care about the fact that my sister ended up in the hospital
because you cannot control your temper."
Jack swallowed hard.
Even he didn't dare talk back.
She exhaled slowly,
then looked again at the boy.
He flinched slightly under her gaze.
She noticed.
"Are you the one she keeps talking about?" Sally asked.
The boy froze.
She stepped closer—
not threatening,
but powerful in a way that made his pulse quicken.
Her eyes softened.
Just a hint.
"Thank you," she said quietly.
"For being there when she needed someone."
The boy's breath caught.
"I… I just did what anyone—"
"No," Sally cut in.
"Not anyone.
Many people saw her fall."
She glanced sharply at Jack.
"Most did nothing."
Her sister stepped beside the boy defensively.
"He saved my life."
Sally nodded.
"I know."
For the first time, Sally gave him a small, sincere smile.
"You have my respect."
Jack stared—stunned.
Sally rarely respected anyone.
But the moment didn't last.
Her expression shifted—
eyes narrowing,
mind already calculating.
"However," she added quietly,
glancing between the boy and Jack,
"something feels wrong here.
Something is shifting."
Jack stiffened.
The boy felt his stomach tighten.
Sally stepped back and said:
"I don't know what is happening…"
her voice softened as she looked at her sister,
"…but I'm staying."
Jack's eyes widened.
"What? Here?"
"Yes."
Her voice was calm, unshakable.
"As long as my sister is in danger—real or emotional—
I will not leave her alone."
Her gaze shifted to the boy.
And for the first time,
he saw it:
She was dangerous.
Not because she was cruel.
Not because she was violent.
But because she was intelligent
and loyal
and observant.
And if she suspected anything—
No lie would survive her.
Jack clenched his jaw.
His plan…
just got much more complicated.