Page 51 of Silent Dust
Charlotte shook her head, tightening her grip until her knuckles were white. “Help? Pity? You took everything from me, and now you want to play hero?” Her voice cracked with bitterness.
Flora’s heart ached. “I didn’t take anything. I thought we were in this together.” She searched Charlotte’s wild eyes for a trace of the friend she once knew.
The knife wavered, trembling in her hand. “Together? You don’t know what it’s like to fight for your place. You’ve always had someone to fall back on.”
Flora took a measured breath. “Maybe not the same battles, but I’ve always admired your strength. You’re one of the smartest people I know. You don’t have to do this.”
Charlotte’s features twisted with a cruel smile as she leaned closer, voice dropping to a venomous hiss. “No, Flora. I don’t just want to hurt you. I want to explain. I want you to understand why.”
Flora’s pulse pounded, but she didn’t back down.
“You,” Charlotte said, voice cold and sharp, “stand right in the way of everything I’ve been waiting for. You have the respect, the accolades, the recognition... the spotlight.” She pressed the knife harder. “I’m supposed to be the one everyone calls—the first name on every impossible case. The expert. The legend.”
Flora’s breath hitched, disbelief crashing through her. “All this… because of that?”
Charlotte’s eyes narrowed, burning with hate and desperation. “Because it’severythingto me. You took it before I could have it. So I’m taking back what should have been mine.”
A flicker of something darker softened Charlotte’s rage, and she continued, voice almost low enough to be a whisper. “And then there’s Wally.” Her gaze hardened. “That poor fool, obsessed with Bear. I saw it when I met him, how desperate he was just to be seen. I made him believe I saw him—forged a bond with him, built him up... and when the time was right, I used him.”
Flora shuddered. “You sent Wally… to kill me?”
Charlotte’s smirk was cold and bitter. “At Walter Reed. The mugging—almost perfect. He’d do anything for Bear, anything to be noticed. He believed hurting you would get him closer. I made sure he believed that.”
Flora’s stomach churned with fury. “You played with a man’s heart. You almost killed me.”
“I play to win,” Charlotte whispered, eyes blazing.
Laughter drifted unexpectedly from the porch—sharp, innocent.
Flora’s heart slammed into her ribs.
Just then, Amelia burst through the back door, shouting, “I’m going potty!”
The innocent voice shattered the tension but made the danger immediate. Amelia’s wide, terrified eyes locked on Charlotte’s raised knife.
“Amelia, no!” Flora shouted, lunging for Charlotte’s arm. The blade flashed as Charlotte spun, fury now aimed at the child.
Amelia’s scream tore through the kitchen—high, frightened, raw.
“Amelia, get under the table! Now!” Flora commanded, voice urgent but steady as she grabbed Charlotte’s arm, desperate to keep the knife from reaching her daughter.
Charlotte fought fiercely, her wild eyes manic, the knife slicing dangerously close. “Get away from me!” she screamed, rage and desperation tangled in her voice. Flora struggled to hold her, but Charlotte’s strength was terrifying.
“Charlotte, please!” Flora pleaded, gripping tighter. “You need to stop! This isn’t you!” But Charlotte’s fury drowned out reason.
With a violent twist, Charlotte broke free from Flora’s grasp, using the momentum to shove past her. Flora stumbled back, breath ragged, as Charlotte’s wild eyes locked onto Amelia. Seizing the moment, she lunged forward swiftly, closing the distance between herself and the little girl, who had just slipped beneath the kitchen table.
With a frantic, desperate motion, Charlotte grabbed Amelia, pulling her up and holding her close like a shield. The knife flashed dangerously near the child’s small body as Charlotte faced Flora, voice trembling with fury and madness.
“Come any closer,” Charlotte hissed, her grip tightening, “and she gets it. You want to save me? Then save her first.”
Flora’s heart hammered in her chest, breath catching. Time seemed to slow as she stared at the terrified child in Charlotte’s grasp, the cold glint of the knife catching the dim kitchen light. Every instinct screamed at her to act, but she knew one wrong move could shatter the fragile hope of survival—for all of them.
“Charlotte,” Flora said softly, voice steady despite the fear, “this isn’t the way. We can still fix this. You don’t have to do this alone. Let’s find another path.”
Charlotte’s eyes flickered for just a moment—conflict flashing through her madness—but her grip did not loosen.
33 - BEAR
