Chapter Five : The Trap
612 Words
Eva didn’t sleep for days after seeing Mark.
The face that haunted her dreams now walked freely through the town square like a ghost claiming territory. Every flower she arranged felt like a ticking clock. Every step on the pavement echoed louder than it should. She knew it—he was watching.
Philip stayed close. His cheerful nature had dimmed into quiet concern. He made calls, reached out to people he trusted, and even borrowed old contacts from his freelance journalism days. That’s how he found Lina Carter—an off-duty detective who owed him a favor, someone who didn’t flinch at the mention of stalking or quiet murders buried in shadows.
They created a plan, and Eva became the bait.
She kept her routine perfectly. She smiled at old women buying tulips. She laughed with kids who pointed at sunflowers. She chatted with her neighboring vendors like nothing had changed. But every night, behind closed doors, she and Philip reviewed footage from the stall cameras and rehearsed the script for what might happen next.
Then, one morning, a note appeared.
No name. Just one line scrawled in block letters and left beneath a box of peonies:
"You never should’ve come back."
Her hands trembled. But she didn’t cry. Not anymore.
“I think he’s ready to move,” Philip said later that night, his voice calm but firm. “Tomorrow, we act.”
She nodded.
The next day, Eva told everyone she wasn’t feeling well. She packed up early, turned off the lights in her stall, and slipped behind the back curtain. Hidden. Waiting.
Philip sat two blocks away in an old rental car with tinted windows. Lina waited in the shadows behind the old bookstore, armed and alert.
7:12 PM. Nothing.
7:29 PM. A shadow passed, but it was just a boy with a skateboard.
7:43 PM. The sensor chimed.
A figure stepped inside the dim stall.
Slowly. Confidently.
He walked straight to the bucket of lilies—her favorite. Picked one. Turned toward the curtain.
Eva’s breath hitched. Her fingers curled tightly around the recorder in her jacket.
Then—
“Looking for something, Mark?”
He froze mid-step.
“Eva,” he said softly, almost fondly. “Didn’t think you’d still be…”
“Still afraid?” she cut in. “Still playing the victim?”
Mark’s face twisted. “I was never the enemy.”
“You were never the friend either.”
He inched closer. “You were supposed to leave that city. That life. I warned you.”
“You killed them.”
Silence.
Then he laughed. “No one cared about you like I did.”
“I never wanted your protection,” she hissed. “I wanted a life.”
“They would’ve hurt you.”
“They loved me.”
Mark’s voice dropped. “They didn’t deserve you. I do.”
Eva stepped back slowly. Her fingers slipped behind her back—signaling.
Then came the flashlight beam.
Philip stepped out from behind the corner. “Back away from her.”
Behind him, Detective Lina emerged, weapon drawn. “Mark Hayes, you're under investigation for multiple homicides. Hands where I can see them.”
Mark’s eyes darted between them. For a moment, his lips curled into a smirk. “You’ll never prove it.”
Eva lifted the recorder. “We already have.”
His face cracked.
Two officers ran in from the alley. Within moments, Mark was handcuffed, his smirk gone, his eyes dark with something unreadable.
He didn’t speak again, not to Eva, not to anyone.
He just stared as they dragged him out.
As if the story wasn’t over yet.
- Writer
