Ellen just stood there on the sidewalk, frozen, her breath were shallow, and her thoughts were all over the place after that scare. She blinked a few times, trying to ground herself, but the image of the speeding car kept popping into her head.
From beside her, Gerald’s voice broke the silence. "You should be grateful to me, you know," he said. He folded his arms over his chest, his eyes still locked on her, as if waiting for a proper response.
Ellen’s gaze shifted to him, her expression still blank, her brain trying to catch up with everything that had just happened. She opened her mouth, but for a moment, no words came out.
Finally, she muttered, "Thank you for saving me."
Though her voice was flat, almost mechanical, as if she was saying it out of obligation rather than from any real sense of thankfulness, Ellen was really grateful for what Gerald did; she was just trying to calm herself down.
Gerald squinted a bit, picking up on the lack of enthusiasm in her response, but he didn’t push it. He just stood there, watching her with that same expression, waiting for more.
Ellen knew deep down that she really was grateful to have Gerald there. Not for the argument, not for the snide remarks, but for pulling her out of the way just in time. She could have been seriously hurt—or worse—and as much as she hated to admit it, Gerald had saved her.
"You need a ride home?" he asked, his tone not as harsh this time around. "I can take you."
Ellen looked at him, surprised by the sudden offer. But the last thing she wanted right now was to spend more time with Gerald. She shook her head. "No, thanks," she answered. "I can handle it from here."
Without waiting for his reply, she raised her hand to catch a passing taxi. One pulled over almost immediately, the driver giving her a quick nod as she opened the door and slipped inside. Gerald stayed on the sidewalk, watching her leave.
Ellen stared out the window, her mind still foggy. She felt like she was in a fog, like she was floating outside of herself, unable to fully process the events of the day. The fight with Gerald, the near accident—it was all too much to take in.
By the time she arrived at her house, she felt completely drained, as if every ounce of energy had been sucked out of her body. She paid the driver and stepped out of the taxi.
Once she was in the comfort of her living room, Ellen sank down onto the couch, her body feeling heavy and tired. She leaned back against the cushions, her eyes closing for a moment, trying to find her balance, but it wasn’t just about her body feeling tired; her emotions were worn out, too. Mentally, she felt like felt like she’d been mentally slammed around.
Her thoughts were scattered, unable to settle on one thing for long. First, she kept going over the fight with Gerald in her head, remembering his harsh words, the slap, and how he’d saved her life despite everything. Then, her mind shifted to the car—the one that had almost hit her.
She shot up suddenly, her eyes growing big when the memory of the car came rushing back. It came tearing down the street, with the tires screeching and the engine roaring—it was definitely more than a close call. It hadn’t slowed down, hadn’t stopped. Ellen furrowed her brow, trying to recall every detail, but one thing stood out clearly in her mind: the car hadn’t even hesitated.
For a moment, she just sat there, staring blankly at the floor, her heart starting to race again. Was it an accident? she thought, her mind spinning. Or did that driver... did they mean to hit me?
It sounded absurd, even in her own head, but the more she thought about it, the less it seemed like just a coincidence. A chill ran down her spine, her fingers curling into fists on her lap. The car hadn’t stopped, hadn’t slowed down at all.
"Why didn’t they stop?" she whispered to herself.
The realization hit her, making her feel exposed and vulnerable in a way she hadn’t before. It was bad enough dealing with Gerald’s games, but now the idea that someone might have tried to hurt her on purpose... that was something else entirely.
Her mind raced with questions she didn’t have answers to. Was it random? Or was it connected to everything else going on? Was this just some freak accident, or was there something more messed up happening? And if so, who could be behind it?
She shook her head, trying to push the thoughts away. Maybe she was just making a big deal out of nothing, but they stuck around, refusing to go away. Ellen stood up from the couch, pacing the room as the unease gnawed at her.
She glanced toward the window, her gaze landing outside. Everything looked fine—just like always. But now, there was something unsettling about it. A feeling of danger that hadn’t been there before.
Ellen wrapped her arms around herself, hugging her body tightly as she tried to shake off the lingering fear. She didn’t know what to think anymore. She had never been one to believe in conspiracy theories or anything like that, but now, she wasn’t so sure.
Taking a deep breath, Ellen tried to calm herself. Too much had happened today. Too many things that didn’t quite add up. Finally, she stopped pacing and stood still, her arms still wrapped around herself as she stared at the floor. One thing was clear: she couldn’t ignore this. She couldn’t just brush it off as a random, unfortunate event. It was probably connected to those bloody roses. Something wasn’t right, and she was determined to figure out what it was.
Because if someone really was trying to hurt her... she needed to know who. And why.