Dahlia and the Garden of Light - Chapter 41: Chapter 41
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Inside a private room of the Prime Minister’s residence, President Annalise Monroe stood at a bay window overlooking the frosted river. A single white flower glowed in a glass dish beside her. Beside her, Thomas — Markus’s trusted contact — debriefed quietly.
“These petals,” Thomas said, voice low, “have healed over forty children. Doctors are calling it ‘spontaneous recovery,’ but we know better.”
President Monroe nodded slowly. “And the girl?”
“Gone to ground,” Thomas replied. “For her own safety. Her mother is former black ops — off-grid. Her brother’s more powerful than they realized. The Andersons are protecting her, but the U.S. agency is hunting them hard. Kessler’s out for blood.”
Annalise touched the petals gently.
“This girl heals the sick,” she said. “And we’re chasing her like a fugitive.”
“She could change everything. But she’s scared,” Thomas replied. “They all are.”
The President straightened, steel in her eyes.
“Then we shield her,” she said. “No data. No leaks. Get her what she needs, quietly. Anyone from the States who asks gets nothing but snow.”
Thomas smiled faintly. “You always did prefer whiteouts.”
Agency HQ – Trouble from the North
Agent Kessler stood in front of the digital board, arms crossed, jaw tight. A map flickered with pinpoints and tangled strings of trace data — Dahlia, Mira, and Derek’s trail now covered in a confusing scatter of flower sightings, animal disturbances, and medical miracles stretching across continents.
“Canada just blacked out,” said Moss, pacing behind him, tablet in hand. “No chatter. No updates from our embedded sensors. The AI trace programs are being blocked.”
“Blocked how?” Kessler snapped.
Camara tossed a file on the desk, pages spilling like debris after a storm. “Diplomatic seals. Everything that goes through the Northern Border now gets bounced or rerouted. We’re locked out.”
Kessler turned to his team — Moss, Camara, Darrin, and Lena.
Lena leaned against the wall, flipping through her notebook. “Witnesses in Sierra Leone, Brazil, and Madagascar all describe a girl like Dahlia — but it’s not her. Flowers don’t match. Energy’s different. It’s a scatter campaign.”
Darrin pointed to surveillance stills on the board. “She’s playing chess. Or someone is. This isn’t just evasion. This is misdirection at a military level.”
“And now Canada’s clean-sweeping all tech footprints,” Camara added, grim. “They’ve locked their comm satellites from us entirely. No authorization, no updates. Nothing.”
Kessler narrowed his eyes. “We have contacts. Informants. Diplomats.”
“We had them,” Moss corrected. “Until about twelve hours ago. They’re either ghosted or suddenly promoted to ambassadorial posts where they don’t return our calls.”
“Someone’s helping them,” Lena murmured. “Someone with real power.”
There was a moment of uneasy silence. Kessler finally broke it.
“Start pulling everything on the Canadian cabinet,” he ordered, voice steel. “I want financials, family trees, known affiliations. Any sign of contact with the Andersons or Markus Hale.”
Camara hesitated. “What if we find someone above us?”
“We burn it down,” Kessler said coldly. “This girl and her bloodline — they’re too dangerous to be left unregulated. We find them. I don’t care what continent we have to scorch.”
Moss glanced uneasily toward the window, where dusk gathered over the Capitol.
“We’ve crossed a line, Kess,” he said quietly.
“No,” Kessler replied. “We’re just drawing one.”
“These petals,” Thomas said, voice low, “have healed over forty children. Doctors are calling it ‘spontaneous recovery,’ but we know better.”
President Monroe nodded slowly. “And the girl?”
“Gone to ground,” Thomas replied. “For her own safety. Her mother is former black ops — off-grid. Her brother’s more powerful than they realized. The Andersons are protecting her, but the U.S. agency is hunting them hard. Kessler’s out for blood.”
Annalise touched the petals gently.
“This girl heals the sick,” she said. “And we’re chasing her like a fugitive.”
“She could change everything. But she’s scared,” Thomas replied. “They all are.”
The President straightened, steel in her eyes.
“Then we shield her,” she said. “No data. No leaks. Get her what she needs, quietly. Anyone from the States who asks gets nothing but snow.”
Thomas smiled faintly. “You always did prefer whiteouts.”
Agency HQ – Trouble from the North
Agent Kessler stood in front of the digital board, arms crossed, jaw tight. A map flickered with pinpoints and tangled strings of trace data — Dahlia, Mira, and Derek’s trail now covered in a confusing scatter of flower sightings, animal disturbances, and medical miracles stretching across continents.
“Canada just blacked out,” said Moss, pacing behind him, tablet in hand. “No chatter. No updates from our embedded sensors. The AI trace programs are being blocked.”
“Blocked how?” Kessler snapped.
Camara tossed a file on the desk, pages spilling like debris after a storm. “Diplomatic seals. Everything that goes through the Northern Border now gets bounced or rerouted. We’re locked out.”
Kessler turned to his team — Moss, Camara, Darrin, and Lena.
Lena leaned against the wall, flipping through her notebook. “Witnesses in Sierra Leone, Brazil, and Madagascar all describe a girl like Dahlia — but it’s not her. Flowers don’t match. Energy’s different. It’s a scatter campaign.”
Darrin pointed to surveillance stills on the board. “She’s playing chess. Or someone is. This isn’t just evasion. This is misdirection at a military level.”
“And now Canada’s clean-sweeping all tech footprints,” Camara added, grim. “They’ve locked their comm satellites from us entirely. No authorization, no updates. Nothing.”
Kessler narrowed his eyes. “We have contacts. Informants. Diplomats.”
“We had them,” Moss corrected. “Until about twelve hours ago. They’re either ghosted or suddenly promoted to ambassadorial posts where they don’t return our calls.”
“Someone’s helping them,” Lena murmured. “Someone with real power.”
There was a moment of uneasy silence. Kessler finally broke it.
“Start pulling everything on the Canadian cabinet,” he ordered, voice steel. “I want financials, family trees, known affiliations. Any sign of contact with the Andersons or Markus Hale.”
Camara hesitated. “What if we find someone above us?”
“We burn it down,” Kessler said coldly. “This girl and her bloodline — they’re too dangerous to be left unregulated. We find them. I don’t care what continent we have to scorch.”
Moss glanced uneasily toward the window, where dusk gathered over the Capitol.
“We’ve crossed a line, Kess,” he said quietly.
“No,” Kessler replied. “We’re just drawing one.”
End of Dahlia and the Garden of Light Chapter 41. Continue reading Chapter 42 or return to Dahlia and the Garden of Light book page.