Mirabell.
The name kept repeating in my head like a storm refusing to yield.
"Where are you taking me?" I asked, switching my backpack for what felt like the twentieth time since we started walking through street after street.
"You suck at walking," she hummed.
"That's not what I asked."
"But it's facts," she said, reaching an indifferent hand toward me, opening and closing her palm impatiently like she expected me to hand something over.
And I would have—if she had taken two seconds to tell me what she wanted.
"What?" I asked, slightly baffled by the way she was treating me.
"Bag. Hand it over," was all she said.
Was she being thoughtful?
Probably not. Daniel said she was evil or whatever.
My hand went up to my schoolbag, adjusting the strap on my shoulder so it sat comfortably.
"I'm good," I told her.
Simple. Nothing more than I got it.
So why on God's green earth did she say, "I don't know, you looked weak struggling over a bag," in the most mockingly silly voice she could manage?
Probably the silliest she had sounded in her life, considering she didn't look like someone who knew how to relax or joke around.
My eyes snapped up to her. My steps slowed as I stared at her in pure offence.
How could they not?
"Excuse you?" I asked, completely flabbergasted by her nonchalant audacity to treat me like someone she had known her whole life.
Especially after all the walking she was making me do.
My eyes scanned her up and down, running over her figure like I was searching for the source of her audacity.
"You're excused," she said with a smile over her shoulder, her hand still stretched out for the bag.
She nodded toward it again.
"How original."
Her fingers opened and closed faster this time, silently telling me to hurry up.
After a moment of thinking, I handed it over.
Her eyebrow lifted slightly when she took it.
Apparently she hadn't expected it to weigh more than a feather.
"Oof—" she muttered, either genuinely surprised or just saying the word.
I couldn't tell.
"Carrying gym equipment or something?"
Her attempt at a joke was terrible.
She probably didn't have many friends, I thought.
"Books," I answered.
Why? I didn't know.
But it was better than walking silently through the stuffy market streets.
Fish and meat hung thick in the air. Every couple of rows had stalls full of them, mixed with Korean aunties selling kimchi in their corner alongside fresh sea catches and other things.
The market tried to have order.
Every few weeks workers gathered together to organise, clean, and tidy everything before the weekend rush. Everyone responsible for their own corner.
But when the weekend came, housewives and teenagers sent to buy groceries flooded in like flocks of unshepherded sheep.
One of those teenagers was me.
My stepmother—Sofia, bless her heart—liked to save money wherever she could. That meant I often got sent here to haggle and bargain with women older than her.
Still, I liked the Nigerian aunties.
Their take now, pay later system saved me the trouble of explaining why I couldn't pay that day.
"You come here a lot," Mirabell said. Her voice sounded less prickly this time.
I was getting used to it.
Something about it felt… strangely pleasant to my ears.
"What makes you say that?" I asked, raising my hand unconsciously to greet another lady who waved at me.
"That," she said, pointing a finger at my waving hand.
"What about it?"
I turned toward one of the stalls. Since Mira clearly wasn't here for anything important, I might as well waste some of her not-so-important time too.
"Nothing. Just interesting that you seem to know everyone. And apparently they know you."
She didn't complain about me drifting off the path she had been taking.
Instead, she quietly followed behind.
"I shop here sometimes," I said.
Not that I was ashamed or anything. Plenty of people shop here.
But telling a stranger I barely knew that I came here all the time didn't feel like a great idea.
She didn't answer.
Probably just nodding.
When I reached the stall, the lady smiled immediately and reached for a bag of White Rabbit creamy candy.
My sister's favourite.
The only reason I stopped by her stall.
"Already done with school?" she asked casually.
Her eyes barely landed on Mirabell behind me.
I nodded and reached into my pocket for my phone.
But before I could pay, a small beep sounded.
The transaction had already gone through.
Even the lady looked slightly surprised.
Mirabell simply took the bag, gave a small nod of thanks, and started walking away from the stall.
I was too stunned to speak.
But I recovered quickly, giving the lady a small nod before jogging to catch up with her.
"You didn't have to do that," I told her.
She held the bag off one shoulder, unzipped it, and stuffed the candy into the corner beside my books and my iPad.
An old one I bought second-hand.
It works so slowly it was a miracle I ever handed anything in on time.
"I didn't," she said.
She zipped the bag again and threw it back over her shoulder.
Ready to walk aimlessly again.
"But I wanted to."
Everything about her was simple.
Final.
Effortless.
"Whatever." I shoved my hands into my pockets.
For a few seconds we walked in silence.
The immigrant market faded behind us.
Until she spoke again.
"Have you heard about the church in Bethlehem Forest?"
Her tone was serious.
Which was concerning, considering most things related to that place were rumours and conspiracy theories.
I knew them in great detail.
Even if my iPad was slow, it could still play the countless videos about the weird things happening in our city.
And the abandoned church in the woods had some of the craziest theories of them all.
"Yeah. Who hasn't?"
"Many haven't," she said, clearly referring to herself.
"Not everyone is into junky 3 a.m. conspiracy theories."
"Right," I nodded. "So you don't know how to have fun?"
I blinked innocently.
Her head snapped toward me again, the rings on her ears jingling like they always did when she moved too fast.
"Rude."
"Is that all you know? 'Rude'?" I asked.
Her mouth opened, then closed again.
"Get better insults."
She forced a small smile.
I didn't know why, but it felt good knowing she wasn't going to throw any insults at me.
Maybe she was one of those people who thought insults made you a bad person or something.
She rolled her eyes.
"Back to the church."
"What? Don't tell me you watched a conspiracy video and believed it. That's low, even for you."
Yeah, I didn't know her long, but I was pretty sure she was smart enough not to fall for that stuff.
"You are so annoying. Has anyone told you that?"
I smiled.
Knowing I was as much of a pain to her as she was to me felt strangely satisfying.
"I don't believe in that," she continued. "But we will be going there."
The smug grin dropped right off my face.
"...As in walking there?" I asked carefully.
I hoped she'd say no.
That I wouldn't have to drag myself across the city.
It was on the other side from where we stood.
"Yes," she said with a smile.
Honestly?
Yeah.
I could see why Daniel called her evil.
He should've added bitch to that.
"You're joking? That's in Mulberry. It's like fifty minutes away," I complained, stopping where I stood.
She didn't.
"I'm not going with you," I added.
She barely acknowledged it.
Just kept walking away.
With my bag.
Shit.
My bag.
"Why do we even need to go there?" I wanted to lazy around today. But nop, miss fun-killer had to come by to drag me around.
"Because," she said.
And didn't elaborate. She kinda never done anyway.
I hated walking.
At least pointless walking.
Half the time I felt like I was meant to fly instead of walk.
"Are you going to finish that sentence or…?"
Reluctantly, I followed her.
Bracing myself for the next fifty minutes of meaningless walking.
"Do you have a fae in your bloodline or something? Stop complaining," she said.
It sounded like some weird saying I had never heard before.
Probably not even a human saying.
I really wished I had listened to Daniel more.
He should've warned me harder.
The black girl kept walking ahead, long steps one after the other.
Not once switching shoulders with my bag. Her navy blue coat covering most of her silhouette.
Meanwhile, I already felt like giving up.
And we had barely even started the trip.
Whatever was at that church better be worth it.
I took nibbling steps right behind her. My eyes on my bag, a thought crossed my mind.
If I just snatch it… and walk away from her, what can she do?
But then I thought about it harder. She has my name now. And she did say it can be used in selling it to demons.
I'm not sure if I wanted to take that risk.