The small café was bustling with the hum of conversations and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. You and Candy sat in a cozy corner booth, a half-finished slice of cake between you. The laughter of patrons surrounded you, but there was an intimate bubble around your table that felt comfortable and safe.

Candy, always the vibrant one, was animatedly recounting a story from her recent modeling gig, her hands gesturing wildly as she spoke. “And then, I just couldn’t believe it when they asked me to wear that outrageous dress! I mean, it was so over-the-top, but I rocked it!”

You smiled, charmed by her enthusiasm. “You always rock everything, Candy.”

Her grin widened, and she leaned closer, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “Well, maybe I’ll let you in on a little secret about the shoot…”

You were curious, but before she could continue, you glanced around the café, noticing a couple of patrons nearby who were starting to listen in. You raised a finger to your lips and made a soft “shh” sound, hoping to keep her story private.

Instantly, the energy shifted. Candy froze, her eyes widening as the smile faded from her face. A flicker of something dark passed over her features—fear, perhaps, or pain. You felt a chill run down your spine, realizing your innocent gesture had triggered something deeper.

“Don’t,” she said, her voice trembling. “Don’t do that.”

And then she snapped, her voice rising as she pulled away from you, her hands balling into fists on the table. “You just shushed me like I’m some kind of child! Like I should be silent!”