The Silence Between Words15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZEPLxNoAHL
I didn’t mean to stare—but I did.
It wasn’t Amahle’s beauty, though that was undeniable in the quiet sort of way that crept under your skin. It was the way her fingers trembled slightly when she stirred her tea. The way her eyes lingered on the edges of conversations but rarely stepped into them. That Thursday, she wore blue. A stormy, ocean kind of blue. I remember thinking that maybe she was drowning in it.
The chair between us remained empty, but the air wasn’t. It was thick with the things unsaid.
"So, you were gone yesterday," I said carefully, pretending not to care.
Her eyes didn’t meet mine immediately. She watched the spoon spin slowly in her cup. “Some days, I just… need quiet.”
And yet here she was, in the middle of the café’s humming life, in my company. I didn’t press her. Not yet.
The girl at the counter glanced at us again. She’d been doing that since Amahle walked in—maybe curious, maybe suspicious. I noticed her hand tightening around her apron when Amahle caught her gaze and looked away.
I leaned forward, lowering my voice. “Is everything okay?”
Amahle’s lips parted slightly, then closed again, like she was trying to cage a truth that wanted out.
"I thought I could run away from it," she whispered. "But sometimes, silence screams louder than noise."
She reached into her bag and pulled out a small, worn envelope. She didn't hand it to me. Just stared at it for a long moment before tucking it back in.
And suddenly I saw her—not just as the quiet girl with the haunted eyes—but someone running from something heavy, possibly dangerous.
—
The wind outside picked up, howling against the glass. A man walked in, tall and out of place, scanning the room as if looking for someone. He paused when he saw us, then kept walking to the back.
Amahle stiffened.
I noticed.
“You know him?”
She shook her head too fast.
"Don't lie."
She didn’t reply. But her hands? They trembled harder now. I saw her knuckles tighten around the cup like it was anchoring her to reality.
“I told you I’ve made mistakes,” she said. “That includes trusting the wrong people. And walking away from them.”
The girl at the counter looked over again, but this time she picked up the phone behind the register. Whispered something. Her eyes met mine, flickered away.
Something was off.
—
Later, we stood outside in the parking lot. The world was dark and quiet, and Amahle stood close, her scarf wrapped tightly around her. She seemed small then—fragile.
"I wasn’t always like this," she said, voice barely above the wind. "I used to believe in kindness. In safe places. But there’s always someone who ruins it."
I wanted to hold her, but something in her posture warned me: not yet.
That’s when the headlights turned the corner.
A black car. Slow. Intentional.
Amahle’s breath caught.
“What is it?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
She didn’t reply. Just grabbed my hand and whispered, “Don’t ask. Just walk.”
And we did—past the café, into the alley behind it, heartbeats racing like gunfire in the night.
—
By the time we stopped, hidden behind dumpsters and silence, she leaned against the wall, breathing hard.
“That man earlier,” I said. “He’s the one, isn’t he?”
Amahle nodded slowly.
“I ran from him. From all of them. He wasn’t just someone I knew. He... owned me. Or thought he did.”
My blood went cold.
Amahle finally met my eyes then. No longer afraid. Just tired.
“You were never just coffee and silence,” I said.
A sad smile tugged at her lips. “Neither were you.”
We heard footsteps then. Heavy. Searching.
But Amahle didn’t flinch.
“Tomorrow,” she whispered. “We don’t run. We confront.”
I wanted to argue—but in that moment, I saw something fierce in her.
Not
Fire.
And I knew—Chapter 5 wouldn’t be quiet.
It would be war.
15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGHS5pC9gxw
15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlKkkwUHVC4
→ Request update
and then Add to home screen.