A faint smile appeared on Evelyn’s lips as she looked at them both and said, "My husband..." She answered casually.
However, her words nearly choked them both.
Anna’s mouth fell open, while Dina nearly dropped the glass she was polishing.
"Husband?!" they said in unison.
Evelyn raised her finger to her lips.
"Psstt... Didn’t I just tell you to lower your voice?"
They both nod their heads in unison, their eyes blinking rapidly, obviously showing disbelief and excitement.
In their minds, what she just told them was unbelievable, yet also exciting and not improbable. And that’s why they were also too shocked by the unexpected information.
Evelyn silently sighs before continuing her words, "Well, he’s my husband, which is exactly why you can’t say anything to anyone. Because once you say anything about it, I believe you will be in trouble."
They hurriedly nod again while making a gesture, and they zip their lips. As a promise, they will never tell anyone about it.
Satisfied to see their reaction, she chuckled and gestured for them to get back to their duties.
"Good girls. Now, smile. Go back to being the hearts and souls of this café."
Then, she left the counter and went back to Martha’s house. She had already helped at the café, and now it’s time for her to go home.
...
Evelyn was surprised to see Martha in the garden, kneeling among her flowers. At the same time, Oliver darted around with a tiny watering can.
His laughter floated through the air, light and carefree.
For a moment, she feels like her world seems almost normal and safe.
But her heart reminded her otherwise; the news on the internet came back to fill her mind like a shadow.
She cleared her throat softly.
"Aunty, I think we’ll head home now."
Martha stood, brushing soil off her palms, her eyes already glimmering with worry.
"So soon? Do you need to take my car?" She offered, knowing Evelyn and Oliver usually walked.
Evelyn shook her head gently. "No need, Aunty. It’s only five minutes on foot. We’ll be fine."
Before Martha could argue, Oliver piped up proudly, "Yes, Granny... I need to walk. My doctor said walking makes me strong."
Martha chuckled, ruffling his silky hair. "Alright then. But no running, young man. Just walk."
He slung his little backpack over his shoulders, nodding solemnly. "I will, Granny."
Then,
Evelyn hugged Martha tightly.
"Aunty, I won’t come tomorrow. I’m planning to visit the city. If you need my help or anything out of the ordinary happens here, please give me a call."
Martha’s arms tightened around her, her voice dropping low with affection. "Oh dear, don’t you dare worry about the café. Anna and Dina can handle it just fine. You just take care of yourself, dear."
Evelyn smiled at Martha, then held Oliver’s small hand.
Together, they stepped out from the flower shop, sunlight spilling over them.
"Put your head on, sweetheart." Evelyn assisted him as they walked to the stone path by the street.
"Mommy," Oliver tugged at her hand, tilting his head up with pleading eyes. "Can we buy ice cream before we go home?"
Those puppy eyes were her greatest weakness. Evelyn laughed softly, brushing her thumb across his cheek.
"Alright. But only one scoop. After that, straight home, agreed?"
"Yaaay! Mommy is the best!" He hopped in excitement, making her heart swell.
Midday sunshine beat down, but a canopy of leafy trees overhead cast a cool shade over the stone path below.
A salty breeze from the beach wafted in, tousling Evelyn’s hair and making the short walk feel refreshing.
Behind them, a black sedan rolled slowly out of the café parking lot, keeping a careful distance.
Inside, Toby adjusted his DSLR camera, the massive lens glinting in the light.
"See? Told you. Evelyn Walters... right here in the flesh. And she’s got the kid." Toby’s grin spread ear to ear.
Dean, gripping the wheel, gave him a withering look.
"Hah! Look at us. Real professionals, huh? Journalists trailing a mom and her boy like creeps. This is low, even for us, man."
"Low?" Toby scoffed, eyes never leaving his subject. "Low is what sells papers, my friend. Now drive steadily. If she smells us, we lose everything. We need her guard down."
Dean rolled his eyes.
"Fine. But you’d better get a clear picture. That blurry photo earlier wouldn’t convince a drunk pigeon, let alone the boss."
"That’s the plan." Toby raised his camera, the shutter already clicking.
Clack. Clack. Clack.
Each shot made his pulse quicken. "Oh, this is gold. Absolute gold."
Then, suddenly, the car lurched.
Toby was hurled forward, his lens smacking the windshield. He barked, "What the hell, Dean? Why’d you—"
BOOM!
The sharp crunch of metal on metal echoed in the street.
Toby froze. His stomach dropped.
"Oh my God. Did you just... did you actually hit another car? We’re going slower than a funeral procession, man!"
Dean grimaced, cursing under his breath as he smacked the wheel.
"Sorry, man! That car stopped out of nowhere. I was too focused on Evelyn and the boy. Damn it!"
Toby’s face twisted in disbelief.
"Focused? You had one job. ONE! Keep your eyes on the road!"
Dean muttered, "Alright, alright, I’ll handle this idiot in front." He unbuckled, ready to storm out and beat whoever drove that stupid car.
"Such a stup—" Dean’s words died in his throat when the car doors ahead swung open.
Two men stepped out—broad shoulders. Well-built muscles stretched under their tight, expensive shirts—cautious gazes and calculated gestures that screamed special forces in the military, or worse, mercenaries.
Their cold eyes locked onto their car, and the air seemed to grow heavier.
Dean went pale. His hand slipped off the door handle.
"Uh... Toby? These guys... they don’t look like the type you can just ’handle’ and be fine with it."
Toby peeked over the dashboard, his own pulse stuttering. Their glares were sharp enough to signal to them that they could kill them. His anger drained in an instant.