LILA
1087 Words
Susan’s POV
Evening settles over Pinecrest like a whispered warning—soft, dim, but unmistakably heavy. The sky bruises purple, the kind of color that looks beautiful but feels dangerous, and for a moment, I stand at my kitchen window, wondering when exactly my life became a place where beauty and danger could coexist so comfortably.
I’m rinsing out Jayden’s sippy cup—still thinking about Vina’s sharp smile from earlier, the way she watched me like she could taste every secret in my bones—when my phone buzzes.
Lila.
Of all of them, she is the one who texts like she’s frightened of making too much noise.
Hey. You busy? Can I stop by?
I wipe my hands on a towel and stare at the message. Lila doesn’t “stop by.” She appears like a shadow, or not at all.
Sure. Door’s open.
Five minutes later, she slips into my kitchen wearing a soft blue sweater and jeans, her hair pulled back in a loose braid. She looks like the calm one, the balanced one, but there’s a tremor in her eyes tonight—something restless beneath the surface.
“Hey,” she says quietly.
“Hey,” I echo, and the energy between us shifts. Something fragile. Something careful.
She sits at the island stool and folds her hands together. “You’ve been… adjusting well.”
The way she says it makes me look at her more closely. “Adjusting to the Circle, you mean.”
Lila lets out a slow breath. “I mean, adjusting to them.”
Vina.
Caramel.
Even Bronze—quiet, observant Bronze who somehow carries more weight in the group than he ever speaks aloud.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
She looks down at her hands. “I shouldn’t talk about it.”
“Then why are you here?”
Her eyes lift to mine, shining with something I can’t fully read. Fear? Guilt? Memory?
“I came because you need to understand something before things go any further.” She swallows. “And before Vina pulls you deeper.”
A chill runs across the back of my neck. “I’m not being pulled into anything.”
Her smile is sad. “Susan… she’s already chosen you.”
I sit across from her, trying to keep my voice steady. “Chosen me for what?”
Lila shakes her head, like the explanation sits on the tip of her tongue but refuses to cross into the light. “Just… be careful. She’s not your friend. She’s not anyone’s friend.”
“She seems—”
“I know how she seems,” Lila interrupts softly. “And I know how she makes you feel. That’s the whole point.”
The whole point.
The words sink like stones in my stomach.
“You look like you want to say something else,” I whisper.
Lila hesitates, leans forward, then stops herself entirely—like there’s an invisible line she’s forbidden to cross. “There are things about Vina you don’t know—things none of us talk about because it’s safer not to.”
Safer.
The room feels too small suddenly.
“Lila,” I say gently, “you came here for a reason. Tell me.”
She looks toward the door as if expecting someone to burst in. “I can’t. Not here. Not with Dan around.”
At the mention of his name, something flickers behind her eyes again. Pity? Or warning?
“What does Dan have to do with this?” I ask.
Lila’s throat tightens. She picks at her cuticle, avoiding my gaze. “Nothing. Everything. I don’t know.”
“You’re scaring me.”
“I’m trying to help you.”
A long silence stretches between us.
Finally, she exhales, voice trembling despite how quiet she tries to keep it. “Vina doesn’t want you in the Circle because she likes you. She wants you because she wants the one thing she never gets easily.”
“What’s that?”
Lila stares into me.
“Loyalty.”
I freeze.
“She doesn’t trust anyone. Not Caramel. Not Bronze. Definitely not Thompson.” She whispers the last name, like speaking it too loud would summon something dangerous. “She tests us. Pushes us. Watches how we react.”
“And she’s testing me?”
“Oh, Susan…” Lila’s voice breaks, just barely. “She’s already decided you’re worth the hunt.”
The word hunt slides coldly down my spine.
Before I can respond, there’s a sudden rustle outside—footsteps on our gravel walkway. Lila stiffens in her seat so quickly it startles me.
Dan’s key turns in the lock.
He walks into the kitchen looking exhausted, still in his work shirt, loosening his tie. “Didn’t know we had company,” he says with an easy half-smile.
Lila forces a smile back, but her posture is rigid, her fingers twisting together like they’re trying to warn me silently.
“Hi, Dan,” she murmurs.
“Lila,” he nods, moving toward the fridge, grabbing a water, like everything is completely normal.
But Lila doesn’t relax.
She doesn’t breathe, either.
Only when Dan disappears down the hall to shower does she lean close to me, whispering urgently:
“Do not let him see you shaken. And whatever you do… don’t talk to him about the Circle.”
I swallow hard. “Why?”
She stands slowly, shoulders trembling.
“Because Vina isn’t the only one watching you.”
⸻
She leaves with no hug, no goodbye—just a tight nod and the hollow click of the door closing behind her.
I stand there motionless, her words echoing around the kitchen like a haunting:
She’s already chosen you.
She wants loyalty.
She wants the hunt.
And you’re being watched.
By Vina.
By Dan.
By people I barely know.
People I shouldn’t trust.
The air feels different now—thicker, heavier. Like the whole house is holding its breath.
I’m still staring at the door when Dan steps back into the room, towel around his neck, water dripping from his hair.
“You okay?” he asks, brow furrowing. “You look… shaken.”
I force a smile that feels like glass. “Just tired.”
He watches me too long. Too carefully.
And for the first time since we arrived in Pinecrest, I can’t tell if I’m standing beside my husband—
—or standing beside the next person, keeping secrets from me.
- Writer
