The kettle whistled softly in Aunt Claire's kitchen, filling the room with the earthy scent of
chamomile and lemongrass. Analie sat at the small round table by the window, hands
folded in her lap, eyes distant as she watched the wind rustle the ivy growing along the
fence outside. The air felt different today charged, like something invisible was shifting
around her.
Claire placed two steaming mugs between them, her movements gentle and practiced.
She didn't press for words, didn't demand explanations. Instead, she sat quietly, letting the
silence settle between them like a familiar blanket. It was one of the things Analie loved
most about her aunt she always left space for the truth to find its way out.
"It's getting harder to ignore," Analie finally said, wrapping her hands around the warm
mug. "The dreams. The visions. And now… Selene."
Claire looked up slowly, her expression calm, but her eyes sharpened with understanding.
"Selene?"
"She came to me last night. I don't even know how to explain it,it was like stepping into
another world. She knew about Ethan. She knew things I haven't told anyone. She said I'm
not imagining this… that I have some kind of gift."
Claire nodded once, not the least bit surprised. "I've always known you were different,
Analie. Even as a child, there was something in you something the rest of us couldn't touch.
It's not just grief speaking now. It's your soul waking up."
Analie took a deep breath, her fingers tightening around the mug. "But there's something
else. Someone else."
Claire arched an eyebrow.
"Chris."
The name tasted strange in her mouth now. Bittersweet. Conflicted.
"He's been trying to get close to me again," Analie admitted. "Comforting, helpful… always
there. But sometimes I feel like he's watching Me instead of supporting me. Like he wants
me to stay distracted."
Claire leaned forward, her gaze thoughtful. "Has he done anything that makes you feel
unsafe?"
"Not exactly," Analie said slowly. "It's more the way he talks to me. Always gentle, but he
nudges me away from what I'm feeling makes me doubt myself, second guess the things I see."
"That's how manipulation often works," Claire said quietly. "It doesn't come with shouting
or threats. It comes dressed as care. It softens its voice and uses kindness like a tool. The
most dangerous lies are the ones wrapped in love."
Analie swallowed hard, her throat tight. "I thought maybe I was overreacting. That it was
just grief… or guilt for feeling confused."
"You're allowed to be confused," Claire said gently. "Grief makes everything murky. But
listen to your instincts. They've been guiding you through your dreams, your visions, even
your unease around Chris. If something feels wrong, it probably is."
Analie looked up, her eyes shining. "He was Ethan's best friend. What if… what if he knows
something? Or worse what if he had something to do with it?"
Claire didn't flinch. "Then the truth will find its way through. Especially now that Selene is
with you."
A long pause stretched between them.
"I don't want to believe it," Analie whispered. "But I need to know. I need to understand what really happened."
Claire reached across the table, taking her hand. "Then follow where the truth leads, no
matter how painful it is. And don't let anyone especially someone who clouds your mind
pull you from that path."
Analie felt a strange clarity settle in her chest. For the first time in weeks, she wasn't
spiraling. She was grounding herself. Her aunt's words stitched her scattered emotions into
something sharper. She wasn't going to run from the whispers anymore. She would chase
them.
Because somewhere in those shadows was the truth and she was done being afraid of it.