The bus ride to Ashton Hills felt longer than usual, and a wave of uneasiness washed over Natalya like a heavy tide.

What if the detective leaves before I get there?

She had forgotten to ask about the duration of the trip when she first boarded, and now, each ticking minute seemed to stretch into hours.

Every passing mile only heightened the tension coiling in her chest, feeding the questions spinning through her mind. 

What should I do? Should I ask Christian?

Her eyes flicked toward him.

He was typing something on his phone, his expression distant, almost detached. She hesitated for a moment but then decided to ask anyway.

Keeping that in mind, she reached out and gently nudged his arm.

Christian looked up, blinking, his gaze momentarily sharp before softening. His voice was neutral, bordering on uninterested. "Yeah?"

Natalya cleared her throat, trying to sound casual. "I was just wondering how much longer this ride is. Do you know how far we are from Ashton Hills?"

Christian glanced out the window, then checked his phone, his response curt. "Not far. Twenty, thirty minutes. Maybe less."

"Oh, alright. Thanks and sorry for disturbing," she muttered, feeling a strange awkwardness between them. She turned her attention back to the trees outside, their motion blurring as they sped past.

Christian leaned back, eyes still on his phone. "You're not disturbing me," he said, his tone a little softer but still somewhat distant.

After a pause, he added, without much emotion, "Are you taking the bus back later today?"

Natalya blinked, surprised by the question. She met his gaze, but his face was unreadable.

"I... I don't know yet," she said slowly. "Depends on how things go."

He gave a slight nod, as if he'd heard her, but didn't seem particularly engaged in the conversation.

"Makes sense. Ashton Hills tends to keep people longer than they expect," he said, his voice carrying a strange detachment.

She caught the edge of something in his words, but it was gone before she could ask about it.

"Is that so?" she replied lightly, unsure of how to continue. "Do you know when the last bus back is?"

Christian scrolled on his phone for a moment, his eyes briefly flicking to her before looking down again.

"Last one's at six-thirty. There's another around four, but after that, you'll be stuck until morning."

Natalya nodded slowly, her mind already racing with the possibilities of what could happen in the hours ahead.

"Thanks," she said quietly, still unsure of where this conversation was heading.

He shrugged casually, barely looking at her. "Things always take longer than you think here," he muttered, his words vague and distant.

Curiosity crept in again, but she kept it to herself. "You've been here before?" she asked, her voice soft.

Christian gave a brief, humorless laugh. "A few times," he replied, not offering any further explanation.

The silence that followed felt thicker than before. As the bus neared Ashton Hills, the atmosphere seemed to change. Heavier, colder.

Natalya straightened, a feeling of unease growing within her.

Christian noticed the shift in her posture, but he didn't ask in the same warm way as before.

Instead, his voice was neutral, detached. "You okay?"

"Yeah," she lied, but her mind raced. What could the detective have found out that made him want me to come here?

Christian's eyes lingered on her for a moment, but he didn't press the issue.

"We're here," he said flatly, as if it didn't matter either way. Then, after a pause, he added, "Give me your number. If you want, we can head back together later."

Natalya hesitated, unsure whether to take him up on the offer. She didn't answer right away. The way he said it made it feel more like a casual suggestion than a genuine invitation.

"Sure... but I don't know when I'll be done," she said, her voice trailing off. "I don't want you to wait around for me."

Christian's expression remained unchanged as he gave a slight shrug. "It's fine. I've got time. No plans, so..." His voice trailed off, leaving the sentence unfinished, but the meaning clear.

She studied him for a beat, trying to figure out what he really meant.

There was something colder in the way he spoke now—no warmth, no connection like before. "I mean... you don't even know why I'm here."

Christian met her gaze, but his eyes were distant. "Doesn't matter," he said. "I'll call you when I'm done. You call me when you're done. Simple."

Natalya felt a brief flutter of relief but quickly masked it, pulling her phone from her bag. Wordlessly, she handed it to him, her fingers brushing his for a second.

He took the phone without looking at her, typed in his number with quick efficiency, and handed it back. "There. Send me a text so I can save yours."

Her heart fluttered strangely as she took the phone back, his number now on the screen. She didn't know what to say, but she managed a small, somewhat uncertain smile.

"Thanks," she murmured, then quickly sent him a text saying, "Hello." to which he responded with a thumbs up.

The bus came to a stop with a slight jolt, its engine rumbling to a low hum. The doors creaked open, releasing a gust of cold air into the cabin. Christian glanced at his phone one last time before looking up at Natalya.

"I saved your number," he said, his tone as neutral as ever, the faintest flicker of acknowledgment in his eyes.

He leaned back in his seat slightly, watching her gather her things, still in that detached manner, as though the moment didn't require more than what had already been said.

"Thanks," she replied, her voice quiet as she slipped her phone back into her bag, trying to mask the strange fluttering feeling in her chest.

Christian didn't move right away, instead observing her for a moment before standing up.

"You can go first," he said, his words warmer than before, almost as though the earlier warmth had never existed.

Natalya hesitated, feeling a subtle shift in the air, but she nodded and stood up. She didn't look back at him, stepping down from the bus and onto the cracked pavement of Ashton Hills. Her boots made a faint clink against the metal steps, the bus door closing behind her with a soft thud.

She glanced around at the unsettling sights of Ashton Hills. The faded buildings, the quiet streets, and the ever-present feeling that something was off.

Christian followed her moments later, his footsteps unhurried as he stepped down onto the ground. He didn't speak as he joined her, just walked a little behind, his hands shoved in his pockets.

Natalya couldn't shake the tension between them, and the weight of silence felt heavier with every step she took toward the station. She wondered what Christian was thinking, but his unreadable expression didn't offer any clues.

As they neared the police station, she turned slightly toward him. "I'll call you when I'm done," she said, her voice steady despite the churn in her stomach.

Christian gave a single nod, still silent. "I'll be here in front of the police station you can come here."

He didn't wait for her to say anything else. Instead, he walked towards the police station hands still in his pockets, and with an almost imperceptible tilt of his head.

As they walked in silence toward the police station, Natalya's thoughts remained tangled in uncertainty. The quiet stretch of the street felt more oppressive than the usual hum of city noise. The buildings around her seemed to lean inward, as if Ashton Hills itself was watching, waiting for something.

Christian kept a pace ahead of her, his posture rigid, his gaze focused ahead. It almost seemed like they were both heading to the same destination, yet the distance between them felt like a chasm.

But then, as they neared the entrance of the police station, she noticed something that sent a ripple of surprise through her. Christian didn't slow his pace; instead, he moved ahead of her, his strides purposeful.

Before she could process it, Christian was already walking up the stairs to the entrance of the station. The realization hit her like a cold gust of wind.

He was going in too just like her. But didn't he say he was here to meet his father? Or wait... is he a police officer?

Her heart skipped a beat. The surprise froze her feet in place for a moment, and she almost stopped walking entirely. But she quickly recovered, forcing her steps to continue. She didn't know if she should feel relieved or more uneasy.

She reached the foot of the stairs just as Christian's silhouette disappeared through the door. He hadn't even glanced back at her. The door closed behind him with a soft thud, leaving her standing outside, alone with the weight of her thoughts.

She stood there for a heartbeat, contemplating whether she should follow him in or not. Her fingers tightened around her phone, and her pulse quickened. She had already come this far.

With a determined exhale, she took the first step toward the door. But before she could get closer, she hesitated again. Would he be upset if she walked in after him? Jeez no Natalya he came to see his father and you came to know what Detective Harris found.

She pushed the door open and stepped inside, the cool air from the station brushing against her skin.

The moment she crossed the threshold, the buzz of the station's energy hit her. Officers at their desks, murmuring conversations, the faint sound of a phone ringing somewhere. But none of it mattered in that moment. Her eyes immediately sought Christian, and unfortunately didn't find him.

She stopped, just outside the reception area, her chest tightening before speaking up.

"Excuse me," Natalya said, her voice steadier than she felt. The receptionist, a woman with a sharp bob and tired eyes, looked up from her paperwork.

"Yes?"

"I... I'm here to speak with Detective Harris. He asked me to come in today."

The woman gave her a quick once-over, then tapped a few keys on her keyboard. "Name?"

"Natalya Reinhart."

There was a pause as the woman read something on the screen. "Right. He mentioned you'd be coming." She reached for the phone.

"I'll let him know you're here. You can have a seat."

Natalya nodded and turned to the waiting area, her eyes scanning the room one more time. Still no sign of Christian. Maybe he really had come to see his father... or maybe there was more to him than he let on.

She sank into one of the plastic chairs, her fingers fidgeting with the strap of her bag. The silence of the station wrapped around her like fog, thick and unnerving. Her mind wouldn't stop turning over the possibilities.

What if Christian was a police officer? What if he knew something she didn't? What if this was all connected somehow?

Just as the questions began to spiral, a voice broke through the haze.

"Natalya?"

She looked up and saw Christian staring at her.

"Uhh, hi..." she said, startled, her voice a little too breathy.

Christian didn't smile. He stood there, hands in his jacket pockets, gaze unreadable.

Before she could ask what he was doing back there or if he had been back there another voice cut in sharply from the hallway.

"Natalya?"

Her head turned. A man approached from the same direction Christian had come. Late forties, salt-and-pepper hair, lean build, and the kind of eyes that looked like they'd seen too much.

Wait... those eyes look familiar.

His badge caught the overhead light.

"I'm Detective Harris. Come with me, please."

Natalya's heart jumped. "Yes, of course."

She stood quickly, her eyes flicking between Christian and the detective.

Christian gave a small nod but said nothing. For a split second, something flickered between the two men. Too brief to pin down. A glance, a tension.

Natalya couldn't tell if she imagined it.

She hesitated for a heartbeat. Something about the moment felt... off. Like she'd walked into the middle of a conversation she wasn't part of.

But now wasn't the time.

She followed Detective Harris, her footsteps echoing into the corridor.

Behind her, Christian didn't move at first. Then, slowly, he started walking, just a few paces behind, silent as ever.

Why is he following me? And why do they look a bit alike? Wait is Detective Harris his father?

Word count- 2020