The next day, the sun barely broke through the heavy clouds blanketing Oakridge.

Natalya had barely slept. Her body had surrendered for a few hours, curled up on the couch, but her mind hadn't. It replayed the whiteboard over and over, like a reel stuck on loop.

The phone buzzed.

Once.

Then again.

She jolted upright, her heart leaping to her throat. The screen lit up with a number and the name Detective Harris.

Her thumb hovered over the green icon.

For a moment, she just stared at it, willing her breathing to steady.

Was this good news? Bad? Something in between?

She answered.

"Hello?"

"Natalya, it's Detective Harris," his voice calm, but tighter than usual. "We might have something. I need you to come down to Ashton Hills PD."

She blinked, sitting up straighter. "What is it?"

There was a long pause on the other end.

"I'd rather not say over the phone."

Natalya's fingers tightened around the phone. Her throat felt dry again, the same way it had yesterday.

"Okay," she said quietly. "I'll be there."

"Good," Harris replied, then the line went dead.

She sat there for a moment, staring at the screen as the call ended.

A part of her didn't want to move. Didn't want to know. But she'd already made that choice when she dragged the whiteboard out of storage.

She would get to the bottom of this, and now, there was no turning back.

She stood up and went upstairs to her bedroom, opened the closet, and pulled on a pair of jeans and a plain black sweater not before having a quick shower.

Simple. Neutral. Hard to read. Just like how she felt inside.

As she laced up her boots, she caught her reflection in the mirror. Pale skin, dark circles under her eyes, a shadow of someone she barely recognized.

"You're okay," she whispered to herself. "You're okay."

But she wasn't sure if she believed it.

Grabbing her bag and phone, she headed back downstairs.

The whiteboard still stood where she left it. The bold word "ACCIDENT" stared back at her like a dare.

She turned away and stepped out into the cold morning.

The woods were unnervingly quiet.

Only the soft crunch of gravel beneath her boots and the occasional call of a bird overhead reminded her she wasn't entirely alone. The clouds hung low, casting a dull, silver light that filtered through the trees like a dying breath of morning.

Natalya stuck to the narrow path that wound toward town. It was the same route she'd taken yesterday. Downhill through the trees, past the cabins that seemed to be barely hanging on.

She quickened her pace, walking past the cabins until she saw a woman kneeling by a small garden just beyond the fifth cabin.

Natalya slowed instinctively. The woman had a basket balanced on her hip, plucking vegetables with methodical movements—carrots, maybe, or beets. Her face was partly turned away, but there was something about the angle of her jaw, the way she brushed a strand of hair behind her ear...

Familiar.

Too familiar.

Natalya narrowed her eyes, the crunch of her boots on the path suddenly louder. She took another step forward.

The woman looked up.

Their eyes met for a heartbeat.

Then, without a word, the woman stood, turned, and disappeared into the cabin, the door clicking shut behind her.

Natalya stood frozen. The air felt colder, thicker.

Had they met before?

She couldn't tell. Her memory had been wiped clean.

But instinct tugged at her, hard. That face meant something. She knew it.

Maybe.

She glanced at the now-shut door, the silence pressing in on her.

Then, without another thought, she turned and kept walking.

Her boots struck the dirt harder with every step, and soon the trees began to thin. The scent of warm pastries and roasted coffee drifted into the cold air.

The town.

Relief was a quiet, fleeting thing, but she clung to it anyway.

The bell above the bakery door jingled as she stepped inside.

Martha gave her a nod from behind the counter, brushing flour from her apron.

"Cold morning," she said gently.

Natalya just nodded. "Yeah."

"Thought so... I was worried yesterday. You just left so quickly without a goodbye. I thought maybe Christian said something to upset you. I almost swatted him on the head with my rolling pin. That guy can be a brat sometimes even though he's a fully grown up man," she said rambling off.

Natalya smiled faintly, appreciating Martha's concern, but the tension in her chest didn't ease. She could almost picture the scene.

Christian, always with that smirk of his, pushing everyone's buttons without even trying.

"I'm fine," Natalya assured, her voice soft but steady. "I remembered something and had to head back home. That's all."

"Ohh alright. Well if you need to get away from something.. my doors are always open for you," Martha said and for a brief moment Natalya felt a strange feeling creep up in her chest.

"Thank you Martha. So what's special today?" Natalya asked as she stared at the rows of freshly baked pastries on the counter, her mind trying to refocus.

Martha grinned. "Well, you've got your choice of cinnamon rolls or some blueberry scones. The cinnamon rolls are always a hit, but the scones just came out of the oven and they're still warm."

Natalya's stomach growled at the mention of the cinnamon rolls.

"I'll take two cinnamon rolls and two blueberry scones, please. And oh, I would like to take away," Natalya said, her voice softer now, the tension in her shoulders easing a little.

Martha quickly put the pastries into a cardboard box and slid it across the counter with a knowing smile.

"I thought you'd say that. Here you go. You take care of yourself, alright? And don't hesitate to come by if you ever feel like talking."

Natalya took the box of warm pastries, her fingers brushing against Martha's hand for a moment. The kindness in the older woman's eyes made her feel a little less alone in the world.

"Thanks," she said, offering a small, appreciative smile. "I will and here's cash and keep the change."

With the box in hand, she turned to leave, but not before Martha called out, "And Natalya? If you ever need any help... don't be afraid to ask."

Natalya paused in the doorway, feeling a flicker of something deep in her chest.

"I'll keep that in mind," she said quietly, before stepping out into the cool air again.

The town was waking up around her, the chatter of early risers and the hum of traffic bringing her back to reality.

She had to push the thoughts of the woman by the cabin aside for now. There were more pressing matters. Detective Harris had asked her to meet him at the PD.

He had found something.

Her boots struck the pavement with purpose as she walked to the bus stop. As soon as she arrived, the bus was already there, so she quickly climbed aboard and found a seat.

The bus driver's voice carried over the bus's low hum. "We'll be waiting five more minutes folks before we head to Ashton Hills."

Natalya absently nodded, the motion lost in the fog of her thoughts. She opened the box of pastries, the warm steam rising from the cinnamon rolls. She grabbed one, the sweet scent immediately lifting her mood. As she took a bite, the softness of the pastry eased the tightness in her chest, giving her a brief moment of peace before the tension of the day settled back into her bones.

Her eyes fluttered closed as she savored the warmth, trying to push aside the looming feeling of dread. The buttery sweetness spread across her tongue, momentarily distracting her from the nagging questions racing through her mind.

Then, a sudden shift in the air broke her focus.

Her eyes snapped open just as a face loomed far too close, startling her. Instinctively, she shoved it away, her heart leaping into her throat.

"Jesus!" she gasped, eyes wide.

The man didn't flinch. He just blinked at her with a look of bemusement, as though he'd expected this reaction.

It only took a second for recognition to flood her senses. The face in front of her belonged to none other than Christian. His sharp features and ever-present smirk were unmistakable, even though his proximity had been a shock.

He laughed softly, an almost knowing chuckle. "Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you. But you looked like you needed a distraction."

Natalya, still catching her breath, glared at him, her pulse still racing from the sudden surprise. "What are you doing here?"

Christian leaned back in the seat, his casual manner not matching the tension in her voice. "I could ask you the same thing. Where are you going?"

Her eyes narrowed before she answered, her voice steady but guarded. "I have some work to do in the city." She left out the part about the police station. She didn't need him knowing that much, especially not now.

"What about you? Why are you going to Ashton Hills?" she asked offering him the box of pastries to which he refused pushing it back towards her.

Christian tilted his head, studying her for a moment. His smirk didn't fade, but there was something else in his eyes. A flicker of curiosity, or maybe concern.

"Uh-huh. Work. Right." He paused, as if weighing whether to push further. "Well, I'm going to meet my father."

The words hung in the air between them, the shift in the conversation sudden and unexpected.

Natalya's brows furrowed.

"Your father?" she repeated, unsure of how to respond. There was something about the way he said it. His tone too careful, like it wasn't just a simple family visit.

Christian shifted uncomfortably in his seat, glancing out the window for a moment before his eyes returned to hers. "Yeah. He and I don't exactly have the best relationship, but..." He trailed off, his voice lowering as if he wasn't sure how much he wanted to say.

Natalya didn't push, her mind racing with the implications of his words. The idea of family tension felt all too familiar, especially when dealing with people who had their own secrets.

She glanced down at the box of pastries in her lap, the simplicity of the moment almost jarring against the backdrop of everything she was dealing with. There was something oddly comforting about sitting next to Christian, despite the uncertainty that clung to him like a shadow.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked, before she could stop herself. The question was out before she could filter it, but the quiet between them felt heavy with unsaid things.

Christian didn't answer immediately, his expression unreadable. Finally, he let out a quiet sigh. "Maybe another time. It's a long story."

She nodded, understanding that much. The silence stretched between them, but it wasn't uncomfortable, not exactly. Just... there.

"Fair enough," she said softly, turning her attention back to the road ahead.

Christian settled back into his seat, but there was a subtle shift in his demeanor, something less guarded, more real. She studied him for a second.

Yesterday, he had worn a hoodie, casual and comfortable, but today he was dressed differently. His shirt was rolled up at the sleeves, showing off muscular arms that shifted with every subtle movement. When he adjusted his posture, she noticed the way his muscles tensed, the fabric of his shirt stretching over his frame. It was a stark contrast to the laid-back version she had seen yesterday, and it made her wonder just how many layers there were to him.

For a moment, the bus rumbled on in quiet companionship, each lost in their own thoughts before he spoke up again.

"I didn't catch your name," he said, his voice light but tinged with curiosity.

Natalya's attention snapped back to him. She hadn't expected him to ask for something as simple as her name, yet the question felt heavier than it should. She paused before answering, the words forming slowly in her mind.

"Natalya," she said, her voice steady. "And you're Christian, right?"

He gave a slight nod, his lips curving into a small smile. "Yeah. Christian." His gaze lingered on her for a moment longer than necessary, his eyes thoughtful. "Nice to meet you, officially."

The simplicity of the moment felt surprisingly significant. The tension that had been building between them seemed to dissipate a little, replaced by something more relaxed, more natural.

"Yeah," she replied, offering a small, cautious smile in return. "You too."

The bus hit a bump in the road, shaking them both a little, and the moment hung there for a brief second before they both settled back into their seats. Natalya wasn't sure why, but she felt the weight of something unspoken between them—something that had shifted since the last time they'd spoken.

Christian, however, didn't seem to notice. He leaned back in his seat, arms crossed, a comfortable quiet settling around them once again.

The ride seemed to stretch on, and for some reason, she didn't mind. It was the kind of silence that didn't need to be filled with words, one where the world outside the bus faded into the background and left room for whatever was unfolding between them to exist, unanswered.

Word count- 2145