The message spread like wildfire across the town.
Fear seeped into the cracks of every home. Whispers turned into murmurs, and murmurs into terrified silence.
The hunt for the traitor—had begun.
Two years had passed since the fire. The flames had long been doused, but their smoke still lingered thick in the air, choking the fragile peace that once held Elmbury together.
Tensions between the three clans—the Reds, the Blues, and the Whites—were growing unbearable. Allegations flew like arrows between the Reds and the Blues. Good men were wrongly accused. Respected women were dragged into suspicions. Even the most honorable were not spared.
And yet—The Whites stood untouched.
No accusations. No investigations. No fear.
It stung the others like salt in a wound. But none dared raise a voice against them.
They held the authority of them all.
Those who dared to protest were swiftly silenced—behind iron bars.
Families became fortresses. The Reds and the Blues began keeping their children indoors, severing friendships that had once blossomed in the streets. No more laughter echoing through alleyways, no more shared games in the courtyards. If someone was seen talking to another clan—they were taken in, interrogated, sometimes punished.
Fear had built walls taller than stone ever could.
But in the shadows of those walls—a spark remained. Faint, but alive. A spark of something stronger than fear.
Love.
Friendship.
Hope.
Maria, daughter of Fred—the leader of the Reds—was about to turn eighteen. The fire in her heart refused to accept the silence forced upon her.
"Mother, why am I not allowed to play outside with the Blues and the Whites?" she asked, her brow furrowed, frustration curling in her voice.
Sophia, her mother, gave the same answer she always did—gentle, but guarded.
"Because you're the daughter of the great leader of the Reds, my love. You must be protected."
Maria sighed deeply. "Come on, Mother! I'm not a child anymore. I know how to protect myself."
Sophia only responded with silence—the kind that speaks louder than words.
One afternoon, while walking through the market with her mother, Maria's eyes caught a familiar face in the crowd.
Ryan.
The son of Marlo—the leader of the Blues.
He stood by a vendor, aimlessly looking at the fruits like he couldn't care less about them. He looked older now. Taller. But there was still something boyish in the way he stared at the mangoes as if daring them to impress him.
Maria froze for a second, then instinctively waved at him with a glimmer of surprise.
"Ryan!" she called out.
But her mother's hand shot out like lightning—lowering Maria's arm and gripping it tightly. Without a word, Sophia began pulling her away.
Ryan turned. Their eyes met.
For a second, it felt like time stilled.
He recognized her immediately. His face softened, and he raised his hand with a half-smile. But before he could take a step forward—Maria was already being dragged away.
He didn't follow. He just stood there, disappointed, letting her go. Again.
As they walked away, Maria struggled against her mother's grip.
"Why?! Why are you not letting us meet?! What is wrong with all of you?" she cried.
Sophia's voice was cold but tired. "It is for the better."
But Maria wasn't convinced.
Not this time.
Not anymore.
---
End of Chapter 3