Chapter3
1091 Words
Two hours earlier.
Daniel Crawford had just wrapped up a mission and was on his way back to the base when he glanced at his watch. Realizing he was cutting it close, he decided to head straight to the Greenville Town Hall for the arranged meeting. His old Jeep roared into the muddy lot in front of the building, coming to an abrupt stop with a cloud of dust billowing behind it.
As he stepped out, Daniel was greeted by Allen, the head of the town hall, along with a few deputies who had been waiting for his arrival. Having been informed that an influential officer would be attending the matchmaking event, Allen took the arrangements very seriously.
“You must be Daniel?” Allen asked, his eyes lingering on the young man before him. Daniel’s chiseled features and stern demeanor made him impossible to miss in a crowd.
“Yes,” Daniel replied with a polite nod, his voice steady and calm. “And you’re Mr. Allen?”
“That’s right,” Allen responded with an enthusiastic smile, gesturing for Daniel to follow. “We heard you only have three hours. Don’t worry, we’ve arranged everything to fit your schedule so you can return to your duties on time.”
“Appreciated,” Daniel replied with a brief nod, keeping his tone neutral.
As Allen led him upstairs to the office, the early morning bustle of the town hall was just beginning. Staff members were preparing for the day’s events, occasionally stealing glances at the tall, uniformed man walking by.
“Who’s that guy?” whispered one clerk.
“No idea. He’s not from around here. Looks military, though,” another replied.
“Maybe he’s here for the matchmaking event?” a third speculated.
“For the matchmaking? With those looks and presence?”
Nearby, a young woman named Emily, a local volunteer who had dressed up for the occasion, overheard the chatter. She stole a glance at Daniel’s back and felt a spark of interest. “Did anyone catch his name?” she asked casually.
“Not yet,” one of the clerks teased. “Emily, are you trying to stake a claim already?”
Emily’s smile faltered slightly, but she quickly covered it up with a nonchalant shrug. “Why bother? He’s just another soldier. Nothing special.”
Meanwhile, Sarah Mitchell stood in the hallway, her gaze fixed on the mysterious floating words that had appeared before her. Every letter was clear, yet their presence baffled her. She reached out, but her fingers passed through the words like air.
A passing clerk smiled politely at her, entirely unaware of the strange phenomenon. It seemed that only Sarah could see these words.
Her mind raced back to the voice she’d heard days earlier. Was this the so-called “barrage system”? But the words didn’t make any sense—were they referring to her?
Before she could process further, the office door swung open, snapping her out of her thoughts.
A tall, commanding figure stepped out, and Sarah instinctively looked up. Her eyes met his, and her heart skipped a beat.
The man standing before her was strikingly handsome, with sharp, angular features, piercing dark eyes, and an aura of unshakable authority. His military-green coat emphasized his broad shoulders and upright posture, exuding both discipline and power.
She quickly composed herself and greeted him softly, “Are you Mr. Crawford?”
Daniel’s sharp gaze swept over her, taking in her appearance. She was petite, with fair skin, a simple blue coat, and two neatly braided brown pigtails that framed her delicate features. Her eyes, clear and bright, exuded intelligence and a quiet strength. For a moment, he was struck by her unassuming beauty.
“Yes, I’m Crawford,” he said in a calm, deep voice. “And you must be Miss Mitchell?”
Sarah nodded, but just as she was about to follow him inside, something caught her attention. She froze, her eyes widening as she noticed the barrage above his head. The words were multiplying—now three identical lines floated above him in neat succession, all saying the same thing.
In that instant, everything clicked.
Sarah wasn’t just Sarah Mitchell; she was also a character in some kind of drama, destined to live out a tragic storyline. And Daniel Crawford—this man standing before her—was the catalyst for her downfall.
The barrage revealed her fate with brutal clarity: she was meant to marry a powerful yet emotionally distant man, dedicate her life to raising his children, and silently support his success. Years later, his ex-wife would return triumphant, reclaiming her place while Sarah was cast aside as a mere stepping stone in their grand narrative.
Everything she sacrificed would be dismissed, her existence reduced to a tragic footnote.
Sarah’s breath hitched, and a surge of anger welled up inside her. No. She refused to play the part of a disposable supporting character. She wasn’t going to let this man—or anyone else—dictate her future.
Her resolve hardened as she shot Daniel a pointed look. “I heard older men tend to have… issues. You don’t happen to fall into that category, do you?” she asked, her tone dripping with sarcasm.
Daniel frowned slightly, his deep voice laced with confusion. “What do you mean?”
Sarah smirked, the anger in her chest bubbling to the surface. “You know, the kind of guy who relies on his uniform to impress others because he doesn’t have anything else going for him.”
His brows furrowed further, but he remained silent, observing her with a detached calm.
“Oh, please,” Sarah continued, her voice sharp. “Men like you should think twice before showing up to these things. You might fool someone inexperienced, but not me.”
Daniel’s gaze darkened, his tone colder than before. “If you’re not interested in this meeting, there’s no need to act out.”
“I’m not interested,” Sarah declared, her voice rising. “Marrying you would only mean sacrificing my life to serve your family and your ambitions. You think I’d willingly sign up for that? Forget it!”
Her words hung in the air, defiant and unwavering. She turned on her heel, ready to storm off.
But just as she did, she caught sight of the barrage again.
This time, new words appeared above Daniel’s head:
[Message delayed. Transmission repeated after a ten-minute lag.]
Sarah blinked, utterly dumbfounded. “What…?”
- Writer
