Dahlia and the Garden of Light - Chapter 35: Chapter 35

The clearing was a war zone of nature and restraint.
Fox tracks in the soil. Feathers floating in the air. Leaves still trembling from the stampede. Smoke coiled through the trees like a final warning.
Antonio stood in the middle of it, fists clenched, eyes locked on the men in black. Four of them remained—helmeted, unmarked, standing shoulder to shoulder just beyond the treeline, weapons lowered but ready.
Christian stepped beside him, a low hum in his throat. “We let them go.”
“Dahlia chose to go,” William corrected quietly, approaching from the side. His staff tapped the ground once, then again. “That’s a very different thing.”
Jack and Amy stood close together behind Eliot and Theo, both visibly on edge. Amy’s hands trembled until Jack took them in his own. Markus remained still, shadowed just beneath the branches, eyes scanning for any movement beyond the four intruders.
The lead operative, a tall man with gray temples and the kind of calm only taught in interrogation rooms, finally spoke.
“She’s powerful,” he said simply.
Antonio didn’t move. “She’s protected.”
The man gave a small nod. “We know. Your family’s record precedes you.”
Christian sneered. “Then you know how fast we end threats.”
The man looked around the clearing — at the brothers in guard stances, at William with quiet authority, at Amy's unblinking fury. He lingered on Markus, unreadable.
“We’re not here to make enemies,” the man said carefully. “Not today.”
“You followed a woman you’ve been tracking for years,” Antonio said. “Stormed a safehouse we . Drove my daughter into the forest with her runaway brother and a whole flock of wild creatures. And now you want to talk peace?”
The tension crackled. Even the birds had gone silent.
“We want containment,” the man said evenly. “Understanding. We want to keep what’s dangerous out of the wrong hands.”
“That’s funny,” William said, stepping forward. “Because you’re sounding like the wrong hands.”
Another silence. A hawk’s cry, distant.
The man exhaled through his nose. “Your daughter just healed a classified subject.”
“He’s a ten-year-old boy,” Amy snapped. “Not a science project.”
Jack stood taller behind her, voice like low thunder. “You scared him into running. They didn’t start this. You did.”
Markus stepped forward then, just enough. “If you’re smart, you’ll leave now. Because the only thing more dangerous than what Dahlia and her brother can do—”
“—is what this family will do to protect them” Eliot finished.
The man looked at Antonio one last time. “You’re not in the shadows anymore. The world is changing. They can’t hide forever.”
“They don't need to,” Antonio said coldly. “They just needs to live on their own terms. "That’s a promise"
The man gave a small, respectful nod. Then he turned and gestured to his team. Without another word, the agents disappeared into their cars and left, silent as they had come.
The Quiet After – What Was Left Behind
The stillness hit harder than the confrontation. The family stood in the empty clearing, every muscle still tensed, every breath still half-held.
Then William spoke softly.
“She’s gone.”
A weight dropped in the chest of every soul present.
Amy stepped forward, brushing through leaves with her boot. “She followed him. She chose this.”
Jack didn’t speak. He knelt, brushing his fingers over a patch of disturbed soil where Dahlia had stood moments ago. A single petal lay there, golden and warm.
Theo looked out into the woods. “Can we track her?”
“No,” Antonio said, his voice low. “Not yet. She needs distance. They all do.”
“But we don’t know where they’re going,” Amy said, voice cracking.
“And we don’t know who else is after them,” Christian added. “This isn’t just some rogue team. That was sanctioned.”
Markus, still on edge, walked slowly to the edge of the clearing. “They’ll survive. Her mother’s trained. The boy’s not weak. And Dahlia—” He paused. “Dahlia knows how to move.”
“Still.” Eliot rubbed his face. “She’s not supposed to move without us.”
Silence.
Then Antonio bent down and picked up the petal from the soil. He turned it over in his fingers, then tucked it into his coat like a keepsake.
“We start preparing,” he said. “For the long game. They’ll try again. Maybe smarter next time. Maybe worse.”
Amy folded her arms tightly, her voice a whisper. “We lost her.”
William stepped forward and put a hand on her shoulder. “No,” he said. “We gave her space.”
Theo picked up a broken staff, once meant for training. “So what now?”
Antonio’s face was grim, focused.
“Now we follow the storm.”