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The remaining people at the church fled to their cars, running away from the hooded figure. The two police officers stationed outside the church fought their way through the panicking crowd.
Tugging on Spencer’s suit jacket, Rose desperately wanted his attention on The Midnight Flower. When she faced Spencer, she could tell he had seen the stalker too. His hand went to his pocket. She assumed he was making sure his pocketknife was still there. Without checking, Rose knew her pepper spray was in her purse. She always kept it there.
She pulled Spencer through the crowd. It only took seconds for Rose to lose track of The Midnight Flower. Spencer’s fingers laced through hers. He shoved his way through the crowd forcefully. A black-hooded figure sped toward the parking lot. Letting go of Spencer’s hand, she chased the stranger. All she cared about was catching up with him.
Spencer called out, “Rose, wait! Wait for me!”
Spencer wasn’t an athlete; he was a stereotypical gamer. Rose could easily outrun him. She didn’t want to put him in more danger than she already had. This didn’t involve him. The Midnight Flower had taken her sister, so it was Rose’s problem to deal with, not Spencer’s. She couldn’t bear her best friend being injured because of her carelessness. She had lost enough people already. So she kept running, chasing The Midnight Flower, right on his heels.
Is this it? Is this the moment we’ve been waiting for?
The Midnight Flower turned around and faced her. Rose was barely a foot away from him. She studied the intricate details of the mask covering their face. This close to the stalker, something seemed off about them. Before, when she encountered The Midnight Flower, they were shorter than both her and Spencer. But now, they were much taller than her. How was that possible? The only plausible explanation Rose had come up with was that The Midnight Flower was more than one person.
“Rose, I assumed you would find me here,” The Midnight Flower said in the familiar deep, husky voice.
“Who are you?” Rose asked, her hands balling into fists.
The Midnight Flower laughed, a harsh, grating sound. “All in due time, Rose. You haven’t reached the last level of my little game yet. You’re taking longer than I thought you would to solve this. A year has passed since your sister went missing. What have you been doing all this time? Sipping cheap wine coolers and breaking people’s hearts?”
Spencer caught up to them and stood in front of Rose. “Stay away from us. I’m not afraid to hurt you,” he warned.
“Oh, Spencer. What made you think threatening me was a good idea? You clearly don’t know what I’m capable of. I suppose that means I need to make another show of power. Hmm . . .” The Midnight Flower paused, their head shifting from side to side as they scanned the area. “Ah, I spy a target.”
Rose blinked, uncomprehending. Spencer grabbed her around the waist and held her back. The Midnight Flower darted over to where Mason was standing. Leaning against a massive oak tree by himself, his phone occupied his attention. Sneaking behind the tree, The Midnight Flower whipped out a knife. After several flashes of silver and garbled screams from Mason, Mason crumpled to the ground, his back pressed against the tree.
At the sound of the screams, the police came running toward them.
Rose fought Spencer and broke free from his grip. Meanwhile, The Midnight Flower ran off. Spencer went after him, while Rose went to Mason.
“Someone, help!” she yelled. “We need an ambulance!”
Pressing her hands to Mason’s bloodied chest, she applied pressure to the wound, scanning her memories for anything remotely helpful in the situation.
“Rose . . . I—I thought I was safe,” Mason choked out, struggling to breathe already.
“What do you mean?” Rose questioned, not caring that blood covered her hands.
“The Midnight . . . Flower. They tried to . . . to make me j-join.”
“What?” Rose stared down at Mason. She fiercely tried to staunch the bleeding, but it was no use. She wasn’t sure the ambulance would arrive in time. His face was becoming paler, almost a sickly gray.
“I s-said no. I c-couldn’t hurt you . . . but they want . . . their r-revenge a-and . . .” Mason’s eyes fluttered shut.
“Mason, no! What else did they tell you? Do you know who The Midnight Flower is? Why are they doing this?” Rose cried out.
Tears fell freely down her cheeks. Streaks of mascara and eyeliner mixed with her tears. She didn’t care about her appearance anymore. She only cared about learning the truth. Why did The Midnight Flower kill Mason?
Mason took a shuddering breath, but his eyes remained closed. “Take m-my ph-phone,” he whispered in a strained voice.
Rose dug around in both of his suit coat pockets before she found it. She snatched the phone and slid it into her purse before anyone noticed. She didn’t want the police to find out and take the phone. Several people were milling around nearby. One of them had called 911 when Rose yelled for help, but the ambulance still wasn’t there. Rose remained kneeling next to her ex-crush’s body, wondering if he was dead but too terrified to check for a pulse and find out.
A police officer knelt beside her, telling her he would take it from there. Relief flickered through her. Mason was dead, but at least the cops could handle the situation.
With a sudden crack of fear, she whipped her head around, searching for Spencer. She hadn’t seen him in at least ten minutes, since—
Since he went after The Midnight Flower by himself.
And now, he was nowhere to be found.