Just A Girl

Chapter3: Smoke and Mirrors

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Back home, the apartment glowed warm with late-night lamplight. The kind that hummed in the silence and made you feel like the world was holding its breath. Ace stood in the kitchen, staring blankly at a chipped mug filled with lukewarm chamomile tea. Her hands were still. Too still.

Rey watched her from the hallway, arms crossed, hair slightly messy from arguing with their delivery driver earlier that evening. Something about a wrong shipment of silk scarves had set her off—or maybe it was just Ace's overly calm demeanor that made Rey itch for a fight.

"You're making the tea uncomfortable," Rey muttered, stepping into the room.

Ace blinked. "Sorry."

Rey narrowed her eyes. "That’s your third 'sorry' in fifteen minutes. You’re not a Canadian citizen. What’s going on?"

Ace forced a smile, but it wobbled like a paper umbrella in a hurricane. "Nothing. Just tired."

"Ace, if you were any more polite tonight, I’d have to check if someone replaced you with a Stepford wife. Spill."

Ace looked down. Her fingers curled slightly around the mug.

Rey tilted her head. "Did that drunk guy say something to you before he left?"

A long pause.

"He brushed past me," Ace said finally. Her voice was small. "Whispered something. I didn’t catch it. Doesn’t matter."

Rey’s jaw tightened. "He what?"

Ace shook her head quickly. "Don’t make it a thing. He’s gone. It’s done."

"Oh, it’s a thing," Rey snapped, pacing now. "We should’ve gotten his ID. Called the manager. Let me go full 'public menace' on him."

"Please, Rey," Ace said quietly. "Just let it go."

Rey stopped mid-step, looking at her sister. She hated this part—the way Ace curled into herself, hiding bruises no one else could see. How she buried every insult, every slight, under a fragile grace Rey couldn’t understand.

"Why do you always do this?" Rey asked, voice cracking. "You bottle it up like it’s a favor to the universe. That guy was a creep. You don’t deserve that."

"I know."

Rey looked away, biting her cheek. Then, softer: "I just don’t want the world to keep mistaking your kindness for weakness."

Ace finally smiled, this time a little steadier. "I have you for backup, don’t I?"

Rey snorted. "Please. I'm one bad day away from throwing hands at a yoga instructor."

...

Growing up, Ace had always been the calm in their chaos. She dressed modestly, rarely raised her voice, and never—not once—let the world see her fall apart. Lia used to admire that. Rey used to mock it.

Rey, a year younger than Ace, was the fire to Ace’s water. Where Ace soothed, Rey provoked. Where Ace forgave, Rey bit back. But no one could deny the way they loved each other—loudly, differently, but deeply.

Rey remembered once, when they were kids, Ace had taken the blame for something she had done—accidentally knocking over Lia’s antique marble statue. Lia had been furious, and Rey could still recall the way Ace stood quietly, hands behind her back, taking every word without flinching. Rey had cried that night. She never apologized aloud. But the next morning, Ace found a scribbled note on her pillow that read: You’re stupid. But like, the good kind. The kind people need.

Ace smiled softly at the memory. She missed that. The old warmth.

But something had shifted. Maybe growing up did that. Or maybe trauma did.

Just then, Ace's phone buzzed. A message from Eva.

Eva: Rebekah ditched me. I’m ten shots deep and currently babysitting my heels on the street.

Rey peeked over her shoulder.

"Ten shots? That woman’s liver deserves a medal."

Ace replied quickly: You okay?

Eva: Define 'okay.'

Rey raised an eyebrow. "Should we call her?"

Ace sighed. "Maybe give her ten more minutes. Knowing Bekah, she’ll be back with a guy who thinks EDM is personality."

Rey smirked. "God help us if he says 'crypto.'"

They both laughed.

But under the laughter, tension hummed. A thread connecting three sisters across the city—one sipping tea, one cracking jokes, and one walking straight into the dark.

...

The night had gone still, but Ace’s mind hadn’t. Curled beneath her comforter in her dim room, she tried counting the stars out her window. One, two, thirty... her eyes finally closed.

But the dark brought no peace.

In her dream, she was back in the boutique. The shelves were towering over her like shadows. She turned—and there he was. The drunk guy. Too close again. The smell of sweat and whiskey. His slurred smirk twisted into something cruel.

“You’ve got that quiet, obedient look. Bet you’re the type who won’t scream.”

Ace jolted upright in bed, drenched in sweat. Her breath caught in her throat, sobbing before she even realized she was crying. Her hands clutched her chest like she could press the panic back in.

Her heart thundered. Not from the memory—but from the fear it might not stay just a memory.

She reached for her phone with shaking fingers and scrolled to Amirah’s name. Amar’s little sister. Ace’s quiet, unwavering lifeline in her loneliest moments.

The phone rang once.

"Ace? It’s 2 AM. You okay?"

Ace’s voice cracked. “I had a dream. About the guy from today. The drunk one. He said something—he whispered something to me. It’s stupid, I know it’s stupid, but it scared me.”

Amirah was silent for a beat, then her voice turned firm. “What did he say?”

Ace hesitated. Saying it out loud made it real. “He said... ‘You’ve got that quiet, obedient look. Bet you’re the type who won’t scream.’”

A beat passed. Then Amirah’s voice dropped into a dead calm. “Okay. That’s not nothing. You need to file a report.”

“But what if it’s overreacting? He was drunk. Maybe he won’t even remember—”

“I don’t care if he forgets. You won’t. And what if he comes back? What if he says something worse to someone else? You need to protect yourself, Ace.”

Ace rubbed at her temple, torn. “I can’t tell Rey. She’ll go nuclear. And Amar—he’s already protective of me. If he finds out, he’ll lose it. And I don’t want to be the reason he gets into trouble or worse.”

“I get it. But you can’t just bury this.”

“I know.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “It’s just… when it happened, no one noticed. Rey was furious at the guy for being drunk, Eva took her aside to calm her down, and he was leaving when it happened. He brushed past me and just—said it. Like it was nothing. Like he knew I wouldn’t say a word.”

“And you didn’t?”

“No. I just stood there. I didn’t even tell Eva. I couldn’t. I thought it’d pass, but then tonight… it was like he was right there again.”

Amirah’s voice softened. “Ace. You froze because you’re human. That doesn’t make you weak. It means it hit something real.”

“I should’ve told someone right then.”

“Now is good enough.”

Ace exhaled shakily. “You’ll come with me?”

“To the police station. First thing in the morning.”

“…Okay.”

She sniffled, brushing tears off her cheeks.

“Thank you, Mira.”

“I’ll bring coffee. And a stun gun, just in case.”

Ace let out a watery laugh, the first real breath she’d taken since the nightmare started.

As she lay back in bed, the fear didn’t vanish—but it finally had company.

And maybe, just maybe, she didn’t have to hold it all alone anymore.

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Much Love ❤

Riya