The walk towards my parents' block of fts felt like a descent into a long-buried tomb, each step on the familiar pavement echoing the growing dread that coiled in my stomach like a cold serpent. Sis, a silent shadow gliding effortlessly beside me, was the unfortunate recipient of my frayed nerves. Every unspoken fear, every surge of anxiety about the impending confrontation, seemed to manifest as a sharp, sarcastic jab directed his way.

  “So,” I began, my voice tight with a mixture of fear and resentment, “you’re just going to… lurk? Like some brooding gargoyle waiting for me to spontaneously combust?” I couldn’t quite meet his gaze, the intensity in those violet depths both unsettling and strangely… familiar.

  Sis’s gaze remained fixed on the middle distance, his expression an impassive mask. “My instructions are to ensure your safety, Luna. Nothing more.” His voice was a low, steady rumble, devoid of any inflection that might betray emotion.

  “Right. Safety. Because having you hovering over my most private and painful conversation is exactly what I consider ‘safe.’” I kicked a loose pebble down the street, the small sound swallowed by the city’s ambient hum. “Honestly, you’re about as comforting as a hangman’s noose.”

  He offered no response, his silence only serving to fuel my frustration. It was like talking to a particurly stoic and judgmental brick wall. Yet, beneath the simmering anger, a strange, unwelcome flicker of recognition sparked within me. His guarded demeanour, his clipped responses, his almost palpable reluctance to engage emotionally… it mirrored something within myself, a carefully constructed wall I had spent years building to protect a fragile core. The realization was unsettling.

  “You know,” I continued, unable to stop the flow of nervous energy spilling out of me, “for someone who’s supposed to be watching my back, you’re remarkably… uncommunicative. Are you even listening to me?”

  “Every word,” he replied, his voice still devoid of inflection, but I could sense a subtle shift, a barely perceptible tightening of his jaw. Perhaps I was finally getting under his skin.

  “And yet, you say nothing,” I pressed, my voice rising slightly. “Do you even have any feelings? Or are you just some… emotionless automaton programmed to follow orders?”

  He finally turned his head, his violet eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made me catch my breath. “Emotions are a luxury, Luna. One I cannot afford.”

  The words hung in the air between us, heavy with unspoken meaning. It was a glimpse behind the mask, a hint of the darkness he carried within him. And it was… strangely compelling.

  We reached the block of fts in an uneasy silence, the tension between us a tangible thing. The familiar brick fa?ade seemed to loom over me, a silent testament to the years of unspoken resentments and carefully constructed lies that y within.

  “Okay,” I said, my voice barely a whisper, the bravado of our earlier exchange fading in the face of the impending confrontation. “So, the deal is… you stay out of sight. Stick to the shadows. Only… only if things get really bad, if I feel like I’m about to lose control… then you… intervene.”

  Sis nodded, his expression unreadable. “Agreed. But I will be watching. And I will not hesitate if I perceive a threat.”

  I swallowed hard, the weight of his words settling upon me. He was a safety net, but also a reminder of my own precarious control.

  With a deep breath, I turned towards the building, my hand trembling slightly as I reached for the door. This was it. The moment of truth. The culmination of years of unspoken questions and simmering resentment. Once I had my answers, I would finally cut the cord, sever the ties that bound me to a family that had never truly loved or supported me.

  My fingers closed around the familiar shape of my key, but as I slid it into the lock, it wouldn’t turn. Confusion flickered through me. I tried again, applying more pressure, but the lock remained stubbornly unyielding. Panic began to rise, a cold, constricting hand squeezing my chest.

  “What’s wrong?” Sis asked, his voice low and cautious from the shadows.

  “The locks… they’ve been changed,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. The realization hit me with the force of a physical blow. My mother. She was already preparing to erase me, to sever the ties as cleanly and efficiently as possible. The bitterness of betrayal washed over me, sharper and more potent than I could have imagined.

  There was no other option. I had to ring the doorbell.

  The sound echoed in the silent hallway, each chime a hammer blow against my already fragile composure. I waited, the seconds stretching into an eternity, the silence amplifying the frantic beat of my heart.

  Finally, the door creaked open, revealing my mother. Her face, usually a carefully constructed mask of composure, was etched with a mixture of surprise and something else… something akin to dread. It was the expression of someone caught in an act they desperately wished to conceal.

  “Luna,” she said, her voice tight and strained. “What are you doing here?”

  The coldness in her tone was a stark contrast to the concern she usually feigned for the benefit of others. It confirmed what I had always suspected: her worry was never for me, but for the image of our perfect family.

  “I came for my things,” I said, my voice surprisingly steady. “And for some answers.”

  Her eyes narrowed, a flicker of something dark and calcuting passing through them. “Answers? What answers could you possibly need?”

  “The truth, Mother,” I said, my voice hardening. “The truth about why you’ve always looked at me with such… disdain. The truth about who I really am.”

  She hesitated, her gaze darting nervously towards the hallway, as if she feared someone might overhear. “This is hardly the time or the pce for this conversation.”

  “Then where is?” I challenged, stepping forward.

  She sighed, a sound of weary resignation that felt utterly devoid of genuine emotion. “Fine. Come in. But keep your voice down. I have no desire to air our… grievances… for the entire building to hear.”

  She opened the door wider, allowing me to enter the apartment. The familiar surroundings – the polished furniture, the carefully arranged décor – felt alien, tainted by the revetion of my true parentage. It was like stepping into a meticulously crafted stage set, a fa?ade that had crumbled to reveal the rotting foundations beneath.

  “So,” I said, turning to face her, my voice trembling slightly. “Let’s start with the basics. Who am I? Really?”

  My mother’s lips twisted into a cruel smile. “You want the truth? The unvarnished, ugly truth? You’re a nobody, Luna. A mistake. A child no one wanted, not even your own mother. She dumped you on your father’s p and ran, never to return. That’s who you are.”

  The words were like a physical blow, each sylble a shard of ice piercing my heart. I recoiled, the venom in her voice confirming my deepest fears. She wasn’t going to give me the answers I needed. Not without twisting the knife at every opportunity.

  “Where is he?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper. “I want to talk to him.”

  My mother scoffed. “He’s probably hiding in his precious library, surrounded by his books and his… secrets.”

  I turned and walked towards the library, my mind reeling. My father. The man who had once shown me such affection, only to grow distant and cold as the years passed. Was he complicit in this deception? Had he always known?

  I found him in the library, surrounded by towering bookshelves that seemed to hold more truth than the people in this apartment. He was sitting in his leather armchair, a book in his hands. He looked up as I entered, his eyes widening in surprise.

  “Luna,” he said, his voice a mixture of shock and guilt. He quickly tried to hide the book he was reading, but I had already seen the title.

  Nephilim: A History.

  My breath hitched. My heart pounded in my chest. He knew. He had always known.

  “What is that?” I asked, my voice trembling.

  He hesitated, his gaze darting nervously around the room. “It’s… nothing. Just some… historical text.”

  “Don’t lie to me, Father,” I said, my voice hardening. “I saw the title. You know about them. About… us.”

  He sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “Yes, Luna. I know.”

  “How long?” I demanded, my voice rising. “How long have you known what I am? What my… real mother was?”

  He looked at me, his eyes filled with a deep sadness. “From the beginning. Your mother… she wasn’t like other women. She was… different. Powerful. And I knew… I knew what you would grow up to be.”

  “And you didn’t tell me?” I asked, my voice ced with betrayal. “You let me live a lie for twenty-one years?”

  “I tried to protect you, Luna,” he said, his voice pleading. “I knew there would come a time when you would have to leave. Your… nature… wouldn’t allow you to stay here. I tried to distance myself, to make it easier for both of us. And to keep the peace with your… with Sarah.”

  “To keep the peace?” I repeated, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “Or to avoid her wrath? To pretend I was normal, even though you knew I wasn’t?”

  “That’s not true,” he protested weakly.

  “Then why?” I demanded, my voice cracking with emotion. “Why did you stop loving me? Why did you push me away? Did you think I was a monster? Some… some abomination?”

  “Never,” he said, his voice firm. “I never thought that. But I knew this day would come. And I knew it would be painful. For all of us.”

  Sarah, my supposed mother, appeared in the doorway, her face a mask of fury. “What’s going on here? What are you saying to her?”

  “The truth, Sarah,” my father said, his voice weary. “I’m finally telling her the truth.”

  “The truth?” Sarah scoffed, her eyes bzing. “You think she can handle the truth? She’s a freak! Just like her mother!”

  The words hit me like a tidal wave, the long-suppressed anger and resentment surging to the surface. The energy within me began to build, the familiar heat spreading through my veins. I could feel my control slipping, the power threatening to erupt.

  But then, I remembered Thorne’s training. I closed my eyes, focusing on my breath, on the anchor of my Seismind. I pictured the unyielding mountain, the impenetrable fortress within my mind. The turbulent emotions began to subside, the energy stabilizing.

  I opened my eyes, meeting Sarah’s venomous gaze with a newfound calm. I could feel Sis’s presence in the shadows, his energy a low hum of readiness. I looked towards him, a silent signal that I had the situation under control. He remained still, a watchful guardian.

  “Get out,” I said to Sarah, my voice low and steady, each word ced with a quiet power that even surprised myself. “This is between my father and me. I’m finally getting the answers I need, and you’re not going to stop me. Not anymore.”

  Sarah recoiled, her face contorted with a mixture of shock and fury. “You… you have no right to speak to me that way! I am your mother!”

  “No, you’re not,” I said, the words heavy with finality. “You were never my mother. You were just… a stand-in. A repcement. And now, I’m done pying this game. I’m done pretending we’re a family. So get out. And let me get the answers I came for. Then I’ll leave. And you’ll never have to see me again.”

  Sarah gred at me, her chest heaving with rage. But for the first time, I saw a flicker of fear in her eyes. The power I now possessed, the control I had finally gained, was something she couldn’t comprehend, couldn’t manipute.

  With a final, venomous gre, she turned and stormed out of the library, leaving me alone with my father.

  I turned back to him, my voice softening slightly, the anger giving way to a desperate need for understanding. “Tell me about her,” I said. “My mother. Who was she? How did you meet her? What was she like?”

  The questions hung in the air, heavy with the weight of a lifetime of unanswered questions.

  TO BE CONTINUED...