Bloom of Deception

EpisodeThree

Unknown Horizon

Samantha’s fingers tightened around the until her knuckles ached. The central lock’s click still echoed in her ears like a gunshot in a quiet room.

“Pull over,” she said, forcing the words out steady with her last strength even though her pulse hammered at her throat.

She managed to open her eyes; there was a crowd of people around. She couldn't imagine what had happened, but she knew it was a tragedy.

The ambulance drove in, lifted her into the van and zoomed off to the nearby emergency ward.

Samantha totally regained her consciousness.

Samantha: Nurse, why am I here?

Nurse: Your vehicle had a fatal accident; your driver lost his life on the spot. Details were gathered through his phone that he was paid to change his route to the gangster building down the road, but we are still investigating who must have paid him.

Samantha pursed her lips for minutes and sighed, then managed to say, “Where is my luggage?

Nurse: It is in the police course study for proper investigation. Once you are discharged, your properties will be handed over to you. Just relax.

Lila (walked in): Thank God you are fine. I got a call from the emergency unit telling me they had got my number and address from your luggage. 'What is the way forward now?' she said, turning to the nurse. Samantha, how are you feeling? Any pain from injury?

Nurse: She is very lucky! No serious injury, just minor scratches on her hands and legs, but I believe she will be relieved soon.

Lila: Persons can be so heartless...

(The doctor came in.)

Doctor: Hello, Samantha. How are you doing now? From your scans and checks, you are fine and you will be discharged tomorrow. Let the nurse tend to the minor scratches on your body, and you will be discharged.

Lila took Samantha home the next evening. Then she sat on the edge of the mattress in the room that Lila showed her to be her room till she was settled; elbows on knees, and let herself feel the ache of everything that had happened, including missing him. It was a physical thing, sharp behind her sternum, like a bruise. She kept pressing to see if it still hurt.

Yes, it did!

Samantha sat in silence for a long moment. ‘Finally I can breathe outside that house now, hmmm’ (Samantha murmured to herself ) reaching out to her laptop bag close to the bedside in the room .

She cannot wait any longer to submit applications for jobs. All in her mind was, “Ethan needs me, I can't afford to see him lack anything." She opened the laptop. The screen glowed blue against the dimming room. She pulled up the folder labelled “Applications”, created six months ago in secret before Marcus came back at night or during late-night sessions while Marcus slept downstairs. Inside were résumés tailored for different roles, cover letters she had rewritten a dozen times, and a LinkedIn profile scrubbed of anything that might lead back to her old life.

She scrolled through the job boards she had bookmarked: Indeed, LinkedIn, Glassdoor, and local Hudson Valley listings. Her eyes caught on one she had saved two weeks earlier but hadn’t dared apply to yet. Blackwood & Associates (A prestigious tech firm known for high-profile clients in lifestyle, tech, and classy brands). Their headquarters occupied a restored estate on the outskirts of town, part of historic property, the kind of place that appeared in architectural magazines.

The listing was for a marketing coordinator: mid-level, creative, with room for growth, a salary range that made her breath catch, benefits, and a hybrid work option.

She stared at the screen until the words blurred. "Too good to be true," her old voice whispered. 'Too visible.' Marcus knows people in those circles. He’ll find you.(something whispered within her)

She closed her eyes, counted to ten, and opened them again.

The other voice, the one that had grown louder in the last few months, spoke more clearly now: “You are allowed to want more than survival.” She clicked ‘Apply.’

The application portal loaded. She uploaded her résumé, attached the cover letter she had polished until the sentences felt like armor, and in the additional comments box, she typed:

‘ I am relocating to the Hudson Valley for a fresh start and am eager to bring my dedication and fresh perspective to Blackwood & Associates’

No mention of her marriage, no mention of her son, and no mention of the years she had spent shrinking herself to fit someone else’s expectations.

She hit submit before doubt could claw its way back in.

The confirmation email arrived almost immediately:

Thank you for your application. Due to the volume of applicants, we will only contact candidates selected for an interview.

She exhaled, long and slow. One application. One step.

She placed Ethan’s baby blanket, a soft yellow cotton frayed at one corner, across the foot of the bed.

She pulled out a new phone from its pack (Lila had gotten her another phone on their way home, after the discharge from the hospital). It was now a new number, a new carrier, and a new everything.She opened the video call app and dialed; Rose (she really needed to hear from her mum and son; they did not know what had happened so far) “I know she must have been really worried now,” she said. Rose answered in the second ring. Ethan’s face filled the screen, cheeks flushed from running around the backyard, a smudge of dirt on his nose.

Mommy!” He grinned, gap-toothed and bright. “Grandma said you are safe and okay.”

“Yes, I am, sweetheart.”

“But why didn’t we hear from you these few days?”

“Darling, we will talk about that when we see.”

He nodded solemnly. “Can I come soon?”

“Soon,” she promised. “Mommy has to find a job first. Then we’ll figure out the rest.”

Rose appeared behind him, resting a hand on his shoulder. “You need anything? Is there anything you are not telling me? What happened? I can send a care package.”

“I’m okay, Mum. I need some rest now. We’ll talk about everything when we see each other, but I’ll shop tomorrow.” Samantha forced a smile.

“He’s been asking about you every hour,” she said quietly. “He’s fine, though; eating, playing and sleeping. We’re okay here.”

“I know.” Samantha’s throat tightened. “Thank you, Mom.”

“You don’t thank family for doing what family does for assistance. Just…take care of yourself and be strong up there. One step at a time.”

Immediately after Samantha dropped the call with Ethan and Rose, Samantha discovered the worst possible violation: the small zippered pouch hidden in her luggage, the one containing her passport, Ethan’s birth certificate, and every scrap of emergency cash she had secretly saved for two years, was missing and completely gone.

The police had returned the luggage sealed, evidence tape intact. No one mentioned tampering. Yet someone had known precisely where to look, what to take, and how to leave no obvious trace.

Her thoughts snap back to the hospital nurse’s chilling revelation: the driver had been paid to reroute her straight toward a gangster-controlled building. And now her most critical documents; her only way to prove identity, to protect Ethan legally, to disappear again if she must, have vanished.

Someone is monitoring me

Someone already knows where she’s hiding.

Someone already has the keys to track her down.

As she kneels frozen beside the gutted suitcase, a soft knock comes at the bedroom door. Lila’s concerned voice drifts through: “Samantha? Are you okay in there? I thought I heard something fall.”

Samantha’s pulse roars in her ears. She forces out a calm “I’m fine,” but she doesn’t believe it.