Chapter 23 The Black Van

Chapter 23 The Black Van
She leaned her back against the cool hospital wall and pressed her palm flat against her chest. Her heartbeat was fast, uneven. She inhaled slowly through her nose, then exhaled through her mouth, trying to steady herself.
Why him? Why now?
The hallway was quiet—only the distant sound of footsteps, the low hum of machines, the occasional murmur of voices from other rooms. Everything felt normal around her, yet inside, she felt anything but.
She pulled her phone from her pocket and stared at the screen.
No new messages.
Her thumb hovered over the “Strange Man”.
She told herself she was calling for one reason only—to be clear. To settle things. To draw proper boundaries so nothing else would spiral out of control.
That was what she told herself.
She pressed call.
It rang once.
Twice.
Then—
“Olive.”
His voice came through calm and steady, as if he hadn’t been surprised at all. As if he’d expected her call.
Olive didn’t answer right away.
Her phone was still pressed to her ear, but no sound came out of her mouth. Her thoughts tangled, her chest tight, as if the words she wanted to say were all rushing forward at once and blocking each other.
“Olive?” Leo called again.
There was a slight pause on the line.
“…Olive?” he repeated, this time slower, a hint of concern slipping into his voice. “Are you still there?”
That was what snapped her back.
“H-Hello,” she said quickly, her voice stammering as she tried to sound normal. “Yes. I’m here. Sorry—I just… spaced out.”
Leo let out a quiet breath, relieved. His tone remained calm, gentle, steady—like it always was.
“What is it?” he asked softly. “Do you need something? Or does Celeste need anything?”
The question hit Olive harder than she expected.
Not why are you calling. Not what do you want.
But concern. Immediate, natural concern.
Her grip on the phone tightened.
For a brief moment, she closed her eyes.
The care in his voice melted something inside her chest—slowly, quietly. It made her wonder if maybe it wasn’t completely wrong to let him into her life. Maybe knowing someone for just days didn’t always mean shallow intentions. Maybe closeness wasn’t measured by time, but by how someone showed up when it mattered.
And maybe—just maybe—she could only understand her true feelings if she stopped running from them.
She took a deep breath, steadying herself.
“Leo,” she said softly, her voice more composed now, “can we… talk?”
There was no hesitation on the other end.
“Of course,” he replied gently. “I’m listening.”
Olive swallowed, her fingers tightening around the phone.
“Not… not on the phone,” she said softly. “I mean—can we talk in person?”
The line went quiet.
For a full second. Then another.
Olive’s heart skipped. She wondered if she had overstepped, if she had asked for too much. Maybe he hadn’t expected that. Maybe this was where he hesitated.
“Leo?” she asked carefully.
Then his voice came back—still calm, but quieter than before.
“Oh,” he said. There was a brief pause, like he was choosing his words. “I didn’t expect that.”
Her chest tightened.
But then he continued, gentle and steady, “Sure. Of course.”
Relief washed through her.
“Just tell me when and where,” Leo added. “I’ll adjust my schedule for you.”
The words made her heart do something strange.
She didn’t even realize it—but she was smiling.
A small, quiet smile that curved her lips without her permission.
“I’ll… I’ll message you the details,” Olive said, trying to keep her voice neutral.
“Okay,” Leo replied. “I’ll wait.”
“Goodbye,” she said softly.
“Goodbye, Olive.”
The call ended.
Olive lowered the phone slowly and pressed it against her chest. Her heartbeat was wild—fast, loud, impossible to ignore. She stood there for a moment, breathing in shallow bursts, as if she had just run a long distance.
What am I doing…?
She closed her eyes, feeling the warmth spread through her chest.
Another day came.
Olive clocked out at exactly eight in the evening. Her body felt heavy, the familiar kind of tired that settled deep in her bones after a long shift. Still, she stopped by her mother’s room first, as she always did.
“I’ll be back soon,” Olive said gently as she adjusted Celeste’s blanket. “I’m just meeting someone nearby.”
Celeste looked up at her, calm and trusting. “Leo?” she asked casually, as if it were already normal.
Olive paused for half a second—then nodded. “Yes. Just for a bit.”
Celeste smiled. “Go. Don’t rush. I’ll be fine.”
Olive leaned down and kissed her mother’s forehead, then stepped out of the room. Her heart felt lighter somehow, even as nerves began to creep in.
Just like she had messaged Leo the night before, they agreed to meet at the coffee shop near the hospital—the small one on the corner street. Olive’s favorite place. The one she went to whenever she felt drained, overwhelmed, or simply needed to sit somewhere quiet and breathe.
When she arrived, she spotted it immediately.
The black van.