Red Dress

The streets thrummed with the individuals wandering between vendors. Some haggled with vendors to strike deals that fit their budgets, and some went inside the glass shop to be at fixed prices.

Daran's attention was far from the bustling market scene; it rested solely on the two women flanking him. He appeared older, displaying greater maturity, his frame taller, and he was solidly built—a man well-acquainted with physical training. He wore an army-green T-shirt teamed with beige pants and casual sneakers.

Donovan's gaze trailed after them, stopping on the girl to Daran's left. Her dark hair, streaked with pink, framed a face he recognized. Rachel. They had crossed paths at university more than once. She had once approached him at university, asking for help with a tech purchase associated with his father's business.

But it was the blonde on Daran's right who made Donovan pause. There was something about her—the sway of her walk, the tilt of her head, tugging at his thoughts.

His attention dropped to her footwear—black kitten heels. A spark of memory emerged. He wasn't one to dwell on trivial details, but the heels were unmistakable. He had seen them before—yesterday, at the racetrack. His gaze swept over her again.

His gaze sharpened, moving up to her face. Her features looked sharper, and yet she still looked innocent and delicate. Her figure was curvaceous, taking in the loose jeans and the white top. If one paid attention, one would know about her curves. She walked with the same confidence he had once associated with Liora.

Her eyes—warm brown instead of Liora's hazel shade—brought a flicker of doubt. Her hair was golden blond instead of Liora's light brown.

However, everything else? Her height, posture, and the gentle curve of her back when she glanced back at the pigeons were precisely like Liora. It became clear to him just how intimately he remembers the subtle characteristics of Liora. And that realisation did not bode well for him.

Donovan's brows knitted, his thoughts coiling tighter. Daran's subtle gestures didn't escape him either. When a group of men passed too closely, Daran instinctively shifted, positioning the blonde protectively between himself and Rachel.

Unconsciously, Donovan's hand curled into a fist, resting on the table. His thoughts raced.

′Did you two break up?′ He wondered bitterly. ′Did Daran move here, leaving Liora behind in Avalon, only to replace her?′

A gentle touch on his shoulder broke his spiralling thoughts. Rihana's soft voice, tinged with concern, brought him back to the table.

"Everything alright?" she asked while her gaze flicking to the street as if searching for what had captured Donovan's attention.

He turned to her, forcing a faint smile. "It's nothing," he said evenly, though his clenched jaw betrayed him.

Rihana's brow furrowed slightly, but she didn't press. "You've been staring out there for a while," she added, her voice light yet probing.

"Just people-watching," Donovan replied, his tone clipped as the waiter returned, balancing a tray of steaming plates.

Donovan took a final look at the street as their dishes were set in front of them. Daran, along with his companions, had vanished into the throng. He redirected his attention to the table, maintaining a composed expression, even as his mind swirled with unresolved questions.

At the same time, Rachel, Daran, and Liora strolled through the clothing stores. Rachel was serious when she told Liora about her shopping spree last night.

She led the charge with her keen eye for fashion. She breezed from one clothing store to the next, "These styles are quintessential Valtham, guys! Let's dive in!" She looked like a happy honeybee, hopping from one flower to the other in search of the sweetest nectar.

"Valtham fashion? Should I begin dressing in garments from 500 A.D., or maybe mix modern attire with styles from the past?" Liora attempted to make a joke.

Rachel barely glanced at Liora as she rummaged through a rack of summer dresses, her attention fixed on finding the perfect outfit. "Liora, it might amuse you, but you are dressed like it's 500 A.D. or something. You really need to embrace showing a little skin and curves."

This time, Rachel turned fully toward her with a teasing grin. Liora's expression remained stoic, unaffected by her friend's comments.

Undeterred, Rachel nudged her shoulder playfully. "Come on, Liora. Girls flaunt their flat stomachs and a bit of cleavage to feel feminine, you know? Slender legs and beautiful dresses—it's what makes heads turn. And then there's you, wrapped up like a secret nobody's allowed to know."

"I prefer my way," Liora replied promptly.

"You are experimenting with different options." Rachel gave Liora no chance to debate. Meanwhile, Daran remained silent on this matter since Liora had cautioned him not to get involved in this topic.

The shops lured them in with an enticing allure. Mannequins posed like sirens, their silent allure whispering to the passersby.

'Step inside! I'm just what you've been looking for! Experience me, adore me! I'll be your perfect companion; I'll enhance your beauty. Bring me home. I'm meant to be in your closet.'

"Why does the clothing need to be so tempting?"

Liora felt the tug of temptation as though the clothes themselves were conspiring against her resolve. She shot a wary glance at Rachel, who was already submerged in a sea of fabrics, plucking garments from racks with expert ease.

"Does she even think about the price tags?" Liora wondered, shaking her head regarding Rachel's persistent enthusiasm for her activities.

"I'm convinced these stores are using some sort of mind control device or maybe some voodoo," Daran quipped, standing beside Liora. He watched Rachel add yet another trendy item to her already full shopping cart, a smirk tugging at his lips.

Liora looked around and noticed a sales section. She moved hangers along the circular, standalone rack, carefully inspecting each item while observing the price labels.

Daran was occupied in the men's section. He, too, could not resist the seductiveness of shopping, looking for something to add to his wardrobe.

Liora's eyes fell upon an eye-catching item in front of her: a sleeveless green blouse with a neck halter decorated with white polka dots and a sophisticated tie-back detail.

She removed it from the hanger and walked over to a nearby mirror to check how it appeared on her.

At that moment, Rachel came over with a stunning red flowy dress, extending it towards Liora for her to think about. She held it up in front of her, arranging it so that Liora could view her reflection in the mirror and determine if it looked good on her.

"What do you think?" Rachel asked expectantly.

However, Liora's reaction was far from what Rachel had anticipated. The green top slipped to the floor. Rather than sparkling with excitement, she appeared to be viewing a horror film. Her eyes grew wide with fear. Her body became rigid, muscles tightening with anxiety, and her hands started to shake uncontrollably.

The ambience turned dark and spiralled around her, overwhelming her senses. She rested one hand on the mirror to keep herself from falling. The red dress transported her to Camping Night: the tent, the phone and the four beasts making her relive the terrifying moment once more.

She gasped for more air, a droplet of sweat appearing on her forehead and the nape of her neck. In a moment of panic, Liora yanked her hand out of Rachel's hold, causing the fragile fabric of the dress to slip from her grasp.

Without a word, she turned on her heel and fled. Her footsteps were stuttering in their haste.

Rachel appeared shocked and disoriented, much like the others who saw Liora's reaction. People in the shop exchanged confused glances.

′Had she completely lost her mind?′One might have wondered.

The sales staff and the owner maintained their smiles throughout, unaffected by the situation.

Liora's curly blonde hair streamed behind her as she sprinted through the streets. Her legs moved as if powered by sheer instinct, a desperate attempt to outrun the shadows of her past. Her breaths came in ragged bursts, fear pounding in her chest.

Where am I going? she thought fleetingly. But there was no answer.

From his seat at Pancake Bliss, Donovan's sharp gaze caught the sudden blur of blonde hair running through the bustling crowd below. It was the girl from earlier, the one walking with Daran.

Donovan leaned forward slightly as he observed her erratic movements. There was no indication of someone chasing her. No apparent reason for her panic. What is she escaping from? The question latched onto his thoughts, stubborn and unanswered.

Rihana's voice broke through his trance once more, returning his focus to her. "You seem distracted," she said, her tone twirling with a forced neutrality that failed to mask her irritation. Rihana was feeling restless about why Donovan continued to stare at the street where pointless people wandered instead of paying attention to her.

Donovan's reply was curt, almost dismissive. "Maybe you're imagining things," he said, his words sharper than he intended.

Without adding anymore remarks, he directed his attention back to his food. He took his knife and fork, sliced it into the fluffy pancake, and dipped a piece into the rich syrup; he observed it soak into the soft texture before bringing it to his lips. The sugary, creamy taste dissolved in his mouth, centring him for a brief moment.

On the side, Liora sprinted without being aware of her direction, causing people to look in her direction. She might have continued running if she hadn't heard a voice crying out for help, pulling her out of her own nightmare.

She paused and scooted forward a little, stretching her neck to locate the source of the voice.

There, she spotted a girl who looked to be about 14 years old. The girl had caramel-toned skin and long, curly black hair. She was dressed in a floral top and jeans that came down to her ankles.

Liora glanced around, noticing that she was completely alone. In her hand, she gripped a stick, her gaze unfocused and disoriented. The girl nearby appeared to be blind, blood trickling from a cut on her head and visible wounds on her hands and knees.

She looked scared. It seemed likely that she had hurt herself while fleeing from someone or something.

Liora approached the girl. "Are you all right?" Liora inquired, putting aside her own pain.

The girl's ears strained to catch every nuance. She reached out her hands even farther to reach out for help. Soon, Liora grasped her hand to give the girl comfort and assurance.

"Please help me," the girl whispered, her voice cracking under the weight of her panic. Her head darted from side to side, scanning for unseen threats. "Some people are following me."

Liora glanced around again to see if anyone was trailing the girl. She then guided the girl to a shaded spot where they could sit on the stairs concealed by sidewalls.

"Do you know who they are?" Liora asked, crouching next to the girl. Her voice was low but firm, an anchor in the midst of the storm.

The girl shook her head, her curls bouncing slightly with the motion. "T-they have my friends," she stammered. "We thought we were going to a concert, but when we got near the entrance… I heard screams. Horrible screams. I got scared and ran. It felt... wrong like something terrible was happening."

The girl's voice was filled with tears. Merely thinking about those painful screams, her small body trembling violently. "I don't know what's happening to my friends," Alice begged, "Please… help me. Please…"

Liora pulled Alice into a protective embrace, her arms wrapping tightly around the girl's fragile body.

"It's okay," Liora's voice was soft and firm, stroking Alice's back to soothe her mind and trembling figure. "You're safe now. We'll go to the police, and they'll help us. Don't cry, Alice...dont. You've been so brave until now."

But even as she said the words, Liora felt helpless. She was new to the city and unfamiliar with its labyrinth of streets and customs, let alone its dangers. Still, she couldn't let this girl down.

"What's your name?" Liora inquired, trying to keep the conversation going.

"My name is Alice," the blind girl responded.

"Nice to meet you, Alice. I'm Liora," she introduced herself.

Before either could say more, the distinct sound of hurried footsteps echoed down the narrow lane. Liora tensed, her hand instinctively tightening on Alice's.

The footsteps grew louder, and the voices that followed turned the air ice-cold. "Where's that blind girl? If I catch her, I swear her legs will regret making us run in this heat," a rough voice growled.

Alice gripped Liora's hand like a vice, her small frame quaking with fear. Both their hearts pounded in unison.

It wasn't a passerby. It was them—the ones Alice had fled from.

Liora felt her stomach knotting in fear, much like Alice. The circumstances looked familiar. She knew what Alice was feeling right at this moment. It was the same fear that had haunted her during her own darkest moments.

But there was no time to dwell on memories now. Alice needed her.

'Stay calm, Liora. Think.'

She exhaled slowly, steadying her breath. If her past had taught her anything, it was that survival demanded courage—even in the face of the impossible.