A few hours earlier...
Evie sat up in bed, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as muted morning light filtered through the hotel curtains. Her phone buzzed on the nightstand and she turned it over to see the notifications flash across the screen.
She had five missed calls and they were all from Tommy. She sighed wearily and set it back down. It was too early to deal with all of that.
There was another buzz. It sounded like another message so she ignored it until her ringtone blared out. She debated just switching the phone off but decided against it. She picked it up and saw that it was Tara, her assistant, calling.
Evie answered instantly. "Tara?"
Tara's voice was a frantic whisper. "Evie, you need to come down here. Right now."
Evie blinked. "What's wrong?"
"Someone destroyed the shop.... I just got here. The windows are smashed, and there's... God, there's paint. Everywhere. And words... Ugly ones... Just hurry. Please."
Evie was already out of bed, dragging jeans on with trembling hands. "I'm coming."
She was out the door in five minutes.
***
The corner of Maple and Stoneside came into view. Her flower shop stood half a block away. She looked up instinctively, bracing herself for the wave of familiarity and longing that always hit her when she saw it. But the emotion didn't come.
Instead, something sharp and wrong twisted in her gut. She slowed her steps and took note of the new warped details in front of her.
The front window was shattered. Red streaks painted the glass and the wall beside it — thick, hasty slashes like bleeding veins. Spray paint spelled out some ugly words but one in particular made her stomach seize:
GOLD-DIGGING WHORE.
"No," she breathed and then she ran.
Her boots skidded on the slush of broken glass and wet paint as she burst inside.
Tara was standing in the middle of the chaos, her face pale, phone still clutched in her hand.
"I... I didn't touch anything," Tara stammered. "I just called you the second I saw it. I thought you'd want..."
Evie pulled her into a quick hug. "You did the right thing, thank you. Go home and I'll handle this."
"Are you sure? I can stay—"
Evie shook her head. "Please, Tara. Just lock up behind you. I'll call you later."
Tara hesitated, then nodded and slipped out the back door.
The scent hit Evie next. It was the smell of pungent chemical cleaner mixed with crushed roses and mud. Like something beautiful stomped into rot.
Then her eyes adjusted and she saw that It was worse inside.
Shelves were overturned and flower pots had been shattered. Ribbons had been torn from their spools and bouquets were shredded like they'd been punished. Her fingers trembled as she reached for one of the vases. It had a crack running through the middle like a split skull.
The workbench had been ransacked. Her journals were gone and so was the customer ledger. One photo still remained on the wall, but it was crooked with the glass smashed. It was a photo of her and Tommy, taken last spring when things still felt golden. Her smile in the image looked unreal now.
The frame lay under her stool, bent. She bent down slowly and picked it up, glass crunching under her boots. The photo itself was missing.
Evie straightened, her pulse drumming in her ears. She walked toward the back room and her heart pounded harder with every step.
The CCTV system was tucked in a high corner, blinking softly in the shadows. She powered on the monitor and it blinked.
Then loaded nothing. The screen flashed a single line: NO FOOTAGE AVAILABLE.
She blinked and checked the date. "That can't be."
She checked footage from yesterday and then the day before that. All blank. Every single file was gone.
Her breath turned shallow and her skin prickled. This wasn't just vandalism. This wasn't kids or protestors or haters with a can of paint.
This was calculated.
She walked back toward the front counter and sank to her knees among the broken stems and water-logged packaging.
Then came three sharp raps on the front door, light but deliberate.
Evie flinched and her head whipped up. She started to reach for something she could use as a weapon, anything protective. She relaxed when she noticed that it was a man in a navy courier uniform. He was standing on the threshold, holding a small red envelope.
He didn't smile when she opened the door slowly, chest rising and falling like a trapped bird's.
"For you," he said simply.
"No signature?" she asked. "Excuse me?"
He just turned and walked away without responding.
Evie frowned at his weird attitude and shut the door. She double-locked it, then flipped the sign back to "Closed."
She carried the envelope to the counter, carefully unsealing the flap. Inside was a thin flash drive. It had no label or note.
Her hands shook as she pulled out her laptop from beneath the counter, praying it still worked. It powered on, slow and groaning.
She plugged the flash drive into the port, and a single file appeared: 01-FLOWER.mp4
She clicked, and it opened to black and white grainy footage.
Evie frowned as the image shifted into focus. It was a room with a bed and a woman sleeping on it.
Wait... it was her.
She gasped and nearly dropped the laptop.
The angle indicated that the video had been taken from above. From a high corner, maybe near the smoke alarm.
She was curled on her side, deep in sleep. The bedsheets were twisted around her legs. That was what made her peer closer at the details. Those sheets were starch white...
And that meant that this footage could only be from one place. This was the hotel she had checked into just two nights ago. It was from her hotel room!
The camera didn't move and there was no sound. Just silence and the soft rise and fall of her sleeping chest. She felt her stomach twist.
She looked up, scanning the corners of her flower shop, half-expecting to find a red light winking back at her. But there was nothing.
She swallowed, unplugged the drive, and stepped back from the laptop like it might catch fire. A vibration buzzed in her jacket pocket.
It was her phone again. This time it was a message from an unknown number. It flashed menacingly the lock screen.
"Next time, I won't just watch."