The faint glow of the business card grew brighter, casting a soft, ethereal light that pulsed faintly in Marcus's hand. He kept his gaze locked on Daniel, his voice calm but firm, as though speaking to a storm he was determined to quiet.
"Daniel," Marcus said again, his tone steady yet commanding, "look at me. You're not a bad man. I know why you're doing this, but this isn't the way. You're trapped in your fear, your desperation—but you don't have to let it define you."
Daniel's head snapped up, his eyes wide with disbelief. "You don't know anything about me!" he spat, though his voice trembled, his earlier anger now laced with uncertainty. The glow from Marcus's hand caught his attention, and he stared at the card, his brows furrowing. "What the hell is that?"
Marcus didn't flinch, didn't break eye contact. "It's a chance, Daniel. A chance for you to stop, to take another path before it's too late."
The divine energy within the card surged as Marcus poured his essence into it, and for a moment, the air around them seemed to shift. The shop grew quieter, the hum of the world outside fading into a distant whisper. Time slowed—not as before, when Marcus had accelerated his thoughts, but in a way that seemed to suspend the moment entirely.
Daniel's breathing hitched as he tried to process what he was seeing. The glow from the card spread outward, threads of golden light weaving themselves into the air between them. They moved like strands of silk, delicate yet purposeful, reaching toward Daniel's trembling frame.
"What… what is this?" Daniel's voice cracked, the gun in his hand shaking as his resolve crumbled.
"This," Marcus said softly, "is the truth."
The threads of light reached Daniel, wrapping around his wrists and shoulders like a gentle embrace. They didn't bind him—they held him steady, grounding him as if to keep him from drowning in the storm of his emotions. The glow intensified, and as it did, Marcus's voice seemed to resonate, deeper and more profound, cutting through the man's panic like a blade through fog.
"You're not a bad man, Daniel," Marcus continued. "You're a father trying to save his daughter. But if you go down this path, you won't save her. You'll only lose her. And yourself."
The light pulsed, and Daniel froze as something shifted within him. The divinity Marcus had woven into the card seeped into his mind, revealing fragments of the future he had been hurtling toward. He saw himself running from the flower shop, clutching a handful of cash. He saw the off-duty cop down the street, the confrontation, the flash of a gunshot. He saw Cindy, alone in a hospital bed, her tiny hand reaching out for a father who would never return.
"No…" Daniel whispered, his voice breaking as tears began to stream down his face. The gun fell from his trembling hands, clattering to the floor with a hollow metallic thud. "No… no, I didn't want this. I just wanted to help her…"
The glow from the card began to fade as Marcus withdrew his divine energy, letting the threads of light dissolve into the air. The world returned to its natural rhythm, the hum of the shop and the distant sounds of the street filtering back in.
Marcus stepped forward, his movements slow and deliberate, as he reached down and picked up the gun. He held it by the barrel, carefully placing it on the counter, far out of Daniel's reach.
"It's not too late, Daniel," Marcus said, his voice gentle now. "You can still help her, but not like this."
Daniel sank to his knees, his hands covering his face as he sobbed. The weight of his desperation, his guilt, and his love for his daughter pressed down on him all at once.
Behind the counter, Gabriela stood frozen, her face pale and her hands still shaking. Marcus turned to her, his expression soft but steady. "Call the police," he said quietly. "Tell them it's under control, and that no one's been hurt."
Gabriela nodded shakily, fumbling for the phone as Marcus knelt beside Daniel. He placed a firm but reassuring hand on the man's shoulder, his touch grounding him.
"We'll figure this out," Marcus said softly. "But you need to trust me, Daniel. You need to trust that there's another way."
Daniel looked up at him, his tear-streaked face filled with anguish. "Why… why are you helping me?" he choked out.
Marcus's gaze held his, steady and unwavering. "Because everyone deserves a second chance," he said simply.
The soft hum of Gabriela's trembling breath filled the space behind the counter, blending with the faint, rhythmic creak of the ceiling fan. Marcus knelt by Daniel, the faint warmth of sunlight filtering through the shop's front window brushing against their faces. The man's chest heaved as he struggled to control his sobs, his hands gripping his knees like anchors.
The gun lay abandoned on the counter, its dull metal glinting faintly under the shop's overhead lights. Gabriela's hand hovered over the phone, her fingers fumbling against the plastic buttons. The subtle click-click-click of her hesitant dialing filled the charged silence.
Marcus's hand rested on Daniel's shoulder, firm but steady, his touch anchoring the man in the present. The faint scent of lilies and carnations mingled with the sharper tang of sweat and the dusty wood beneath their feet. Marcus's dark eyes didn't waver as he watched Daniel's face twist under the weight of the emotions crashing through him.
Daniel's lips trembled, his breath hitching with each exhale. He tried to speak but faltered, his words caught in the rising lump in his throat. His gaze flicked toward the fallen floorboard where his foot had been trapped moments before, the jagged edges of the wood exposed like the raw edges of his own desperation.
Behind the counter, Gabriela whispered into the phone, her voice low and shaking, her eyes darting between Marcus and the door. The faint murmur of her conversation was barely audible over the heavy atmosphere of the shop.
Marcus shifted slightly, his movements deliberate and calm. His hand slid from Daniel's shoulder, resting lightly on the wooden floor as he crouched lower, his gaze level with Daniel's. He said nothing, letting the man's ragged breaths fill the space between them, his presence enough to hold Daniel steady.
Daniel finally looked up, his tear-streaked face shadowed by guilt and uncertainty. His eyes, bloodshot and glassy, darted to the counter where the gun sat inert, then back to Marcus. His lips parted, a faint whisper escaping them, raw and broken.
"Cindy," he choked out, his voice cracking like splintered wood.
Marcus didn't respond immediately. Instead, his expression softened, the hard edges of his features easing as he nodded once, a small, almost imperceptible gesture that seemed to ground Daniel further.
From the corner of the room, the faint scent of roses wafted over, carried on the subtle breeze from the open window. The floral fragrance mingled with the warm afternoon light that spilled through the cracks in the blinds, creating a strange sense of calm amidst the tension.
Daniel's shoulders sagged, his body folding inward like a collapsing structure. He buried his face in his hands, his quiet sobs muffled but heavy. The sound echoed softly in the otherwise silent shop, each exhale trembling with a mix of grief and relief.
Gabriela hung up the phone with a shaky hand, her voice still trembling as she cleared her throat. "They're… on their way," she said quietly, her words directed toward Marcus.
Marcus nodded again, slowly standing and brushing off his knees. He moved with an almost meditative grace, his movements deliberate as he turned back toward the counter. His fingers grazed the edge of the bouquet of lilies and carnations, the paper crinkling faintly under his touch.
"Gabriela," he said softly, his voice low but steady. "Take a deep breath. You've done well."
She blinked at him, her wide eyes meeting his for a brief moment before she nodded, her trembling hand gripping the edge of the counter like it was her lifeline.
The sound of approaching sirens began to filter into the shop, faint but growing louder. Daniel flinched at the noise, his head snapping up, his gaze darting toward the door. Marcus stepped back toward him, his form towering but calm, his presence firm without being overbearing.
Marcus reached into his pocket, retrieving the glowing business card, now dimmed but still faintly warm to the touch. He held it between his fingers, its edges sharp and precise as he crouched back down to Daniel's level.
"Take this," Marcus said, extending the card toward him. His tone carried no demand, only an invitation.
Daniel stared at the card, his hands trembling as he reached out, the tips of his fingers brushing against the paper before pulling back slightly, hesitant. Marcus didn't rush him, didn't move closer. He simply waited, the soft hum of the sirens growing louder in the background.
Finally, Daniel's hand closed around the card, his grip tentative but firm. He looked at Marcus, his face etched with confusion and a faint glimmer of hope that hadn't been there before.
The police cars pulled to a stop outside, their flashing lights casting faint streaks of red and blue through the shop's windows. The sound of doors opening and boots hitting the pavement filled the air as officers approached the entrance.
Marcus stood slowly, stepping back as he glanced toward Gabriela. "Let them know everything's under control," he said quietly.
She nodded, her movements still shaky but more assured as she stepped toward the door. Marcus turned his attention back to Daniel, whose hands were now clutching the card like it was the only solid thing in a world full of uncertainty.
Marcus leaned in slightly, his voice low enough that only Daniel could hear. "This isn't the end," he said. "It's your second chance. Don't waste it."
Daniel's eyes shimmered with unshed tears, and for the first time, he nodded, his head dipping in a silent acknowledgment.
The door opened, and the presence of the officers filled the shop, their voices low but firm as they assessed the situation. Marcus stepped back, his figure calm and steady amidst the chaos, his gaze lingering on Daniel for just a moment longer before turning toward the bouquet still waiting on the counter.
The lilies and carnations remained untouched, their delicate petals illuminated by the sunlight streaming in. Marcus picked them up carefully, the faint crinkle of the wrapping breaking the stillness of the moment as he turned toward the door, ready to leave this chapter behind.