“Hey, Mr. Harold!? What’s going on?” a man holding a flashlight asked in confusion.
Beside him stood another man wrapped in a thick cloak.
The beam of the flashlight moved back and forth, illuminating Florentina and the machete-wielding man.
“Ah, Shane. I saw the street was quiet, so I was about to cut a tree branch that was blocking the road. Then I saw this girl standing here. When I spoke to her, she suddenly collapsed,” Harold explained quickly, his tone uneasy, clearly worried he might be suspected of something.
Turning to Florentina, he added gently, “Don’t be afraid. These are security officers. Just tell them what happened.”
Still shaken but slightly calmer, Florentina repeated the same story she had told Harold.
“My motorcycle broke down, so I left it at the office.
There were no taxis, so I decided to walk home.
But when I reached Cannary Street, someone on a motorcycle started following me.”
“Do you know who it was?” the officer with the flashlight asked.
Florentina shook her head.
“No.
I’ve never seen him before.
I got scared and ran into this alley.”
“Where do you live?” the officer continued.
“I rent a room at 98 Cannary Street,” she replied.
“Oh… Mrs. Katty’s house,” the officer said, recognizing the place.
“Alright, we’ll escort you there,” he offered.
Florentina hesitated.
A flicker of panic crossed her face—she didn’t actually live there.
But refusing would only raise suspicion.
She had no choice but to agree.
Escorted by the two patrol officers, she walked toward Melanie’s boarding house.
Her heart remained restless, worried Teddy might still be nearby.
If he saw her again, everything could become even more complicated.
Fortunately, the streets were silent.
No sign of Teddy.
When they arrived, the tall black gate of house number 98 stood firmly closed.
Florentina hoped the officers would simply leave after dropping her off—but instead, one of them knocked.
*Oh no… what should I do?
They won’t recognize me,* she thought, panic rising.
The gate slowly opened, revealing a young woman—likely a maid—who looked confused to see an unfamiliar face at such an early hour.
“Miss, I’m Melanie’s roommate. I just moved in yesterday,” Florentina said quickly, not giving the woman a chance to question her.
The woman hesitated, her eyes scanning Florentina from head to toe, trying to recall.
Sensing the danger, Florentina pressed on, “You weren’t there when I arrived. Could you call Melanie for me?”
Not wanting to complicate things, the woman nodded and went inside.
“Mister, thank you for escorting me,” Florentina said to the officers, subtly hoping they would leave.
But they didn’t move.
Cold sweat formed on her forehead.
*Why are they still here…?* she muttered inwardly, anxiety tightening her chest.
Then suddenly—
“Flora!”
“Melly…!” Florentina turned toward the voice and rushed forward.
Seeing Melanie standing at the doorway, she immediately threw herself into her arms and burst into tears.
Melanie didn’t ask questions.
She simply guided Florentina inside and led her to her room.
Once the officers were convinced everything was fine, they finally left.
Inside the neatly arranged room, Florentina clung to Melanie, crying uncontrollably.
Melanie let her cry, allowing her to release all the fear and tension she had been holding in.
After nearly fifteen minutes, Florentina gradually calmed down.
“I’m sorry… I disturbed your sleep,” she said weakly.
“It’s okay. It’s almost morning anyway. Now… do you want to tell me what happened?” Melanie asked gently.
Florentina’s eyes filled with tears again as she hugged her friend tightly.
“She didn’t kick me out,” she said quietly, her gaze fixed on the floor.
“She didn’t? Then why did you run away?” Melanie asked, confused.
“Because she was going to sell me!” Florentina suddenly burst out, her voice shaking with anger.
“Oh!” Melanie gasped, her eyes widening in shock.
She grabbed Florentina’s shoulders, staring at her in disbelief.
“Flora, don’t say things like that—”
“Two men were already waiting at home. The way they looked at me…” Florentina cut her off, her voice trembling.
“Two men?” Melanie repeated, stunned.
“I wouldn’t have run in the middle of the night if everything was fine,” Florentina continued.
“The moment I got home, she told me to change into nice clothes because they wanted to take me out.”
Her voice grew heavier as she explained everything—how she had tried to escape, how she failed to climb the wall, and how she hid near the chicken coop inside a plastic sack just to survive.
“Oh my God…” Melanie whispered, struggling to process it all.
“If I had gone with them… who knows what they would have done?” Florentina said, covering her face as tears fell again.
“They could have forced me… or worse…”
“So she did all that just for money?” Melanie asked, horrified.
“All because of her precious son,” Florentina replied bitterly.
“For him, she would do anything. But me… I’m nothing to her. Just a stepdaughter she can sell without hesitation.”
Melanie sighed deeply, her heart heavy.
“Like I said before, you can stay here as long as you need. You’re safe here.”
At that moment, a phone rang on the table.
“Who’s calling this early?” Melanie muttered, walking over to pick it up.
It was unusual for anyone to call at such an hour.
She glanced at the screen—and froze.
“Huh!? It’s… your phone calling? Didn’t you bring it?” Melanie asked, confused.
On the screen, the name displayed was **“Flora.”**
Florentina’s eyes widened in terror.
“T-that… that’s her!!” she cried, her body jolting as if struck by electricity.
She pointed at the phone with trembling hands.
Panic surged through her veins.
Without thinking, she rushed toward the door—ready to run again.