Chapter Nine- Paranormal Realm 7
By the time I finally leave my room, the smell of food has already reached the hallway.
The kind of smell that makes your stomach worms squirm even when you are not originally hungry.
I pause at the top of the stairs.
For a second, I just stand there, fingers curling slightly against the railing, listening.
I can here laughter from downstairs.
My mum's laugh. Soft and full, like she is smiling even while talking. My dad's voice follows, lower and steadier, saying something I cannot hear clearly. Plates clink against each other. Cutlery scrapes lightly.
I don't think I'd ever want to leave here after my mission is done, cause this is THE LIFE.
I take a deep breath and slowly release it and then headed downstairs.
By the time I reached the dining room, my parents were already seated.
The table is long, polished wood reflecting the morning light that streams in through the tall windows. Plates are set neatly. Bowls of food are spread across the table. Meat, soup, eggs, bread, fruits. So much comfort food.
My mum sensed my presence first and looked up.
Her eyes softening immediately, when she sighted me.
"There you are," she says, already standing up, I can see the concern etched on her face, her brows furrowing in worry " Quick, come sit. Are you ok baby?, Hope you slept well?." she starts bombarding me with questions, it would have seemed annoying to some people, but to me, I can't help but ask for more.
"I'm fine," I reply quickly, moving toward the chair beside her. "Really."
She did not look convinced, but she let me go.
My dad watched me closely as I sit down. His elbow resting on the table, fingers loosely wrapped around his coffee mug. His gaze lingers on my face, like he is checking for something.
"You slept well?" he asks, well my old man is kinda awkward.
I nod. "Yeah. Better than I expected."
My mum reaches out and scoops soup and adds it in my plate without asking. Her movements are quick and practiced, like she'd been doing this for years now, lucky 'Rowan.
"Eat first," she says. "Talking can wait."
Before I could say anything, the front door opened.
No knock.
Just the sound of the door swinging open and heavy footsteps following right after.
"I knew it," a familiar voice says loudly. "I knew you would start eating without me."
I freeze.
My dad sighs, already shaking his head.
"Maxx," he says calmly. "Use the doorbell like a civilised person."
Maxx ignores him completely.
He walks straight into the dining room like he owns the place, his dark hair slightly messy, shirt half tucked, grin already plastered on his face. He looks at me first.
Then his eyes light up.
"There you are," he says. "I was starting to think you disappeared again."
"I'm here, ain't I?," I reply. "You're just being dramatic."
He pulls out a chair without asking and sits down, stretching his legs out casually. and then grabs a piece of bread from the table and takes a bite like. . . Like the most normal thing to do, Ever since I came here, he either has breakfast, lunch or dinner with us, every single day.
But today, I was expecting some kind of reaction from the boss lady, but mum does not even scold him.
Instead, she clicks her tongue lightly and pushes a plate toward him.
"You should eat properly," she says. "Not like a stray."
Max grins wider. "See? She loves me."
"She tolerates you," my dad corrects.
Maxx laughs, leaning back slightly. "Same thing."
I watch them quietly, hands resting on my plate.
This sort of closeness feels strange to me, in the past, I've never been on a visit to someone and behave this close.
Maxx glances at me again, this time more carefully.
"You look better," he says, voice softer now. "last week, you looked like you were about to disappear."
My mum stiffens slightly at his words.
"I told you not to say things like that," she says sharply.
"I didn't mean it like that," Max replies quickly. "I just meant…"
He trails off, scratching the back of his neck.
"I know," I say before it gets awkward. "I feel better."
My dad nods once. "Good."
There is a small silence.
Plates clink again. Someone pours a drink. The moment passes.
Max leans forward, resting his elbows on the table.
"So," he says, looking directly at me. "Are you going to tell me what happened, or do I have to guess?"
"There's nothing to tell," I reply.
"That's a lie," he says easily.
I raise an eyebrow. "And how would you know?"
"Because I know you," he answers without hesitation.
My chest tightens slightly.
My mum clears her throat. "Rowan doesn't need to explain himself," she says. "He just needs rest."
Max shrugs. "I'm not forcing him."
He looks back at me, eyes sharp but not unkind.
"But you know you can tell me anything, right?"
I look down at my plate.
I know that.
That is exactly the problem.
"I know," I say quietly.
Breakfast continues after that.
My dad asks Maxx about his family. Maxx complains dramatically. My mum scolds both of them for eating too fast. I listen more than I speak, observing this new everything.
The way my mum keeps glancing at me when she thinks I am not looking.
The way my dad shifts his chair closer to mine.
The way Maxx's foot lightly bumps against mine under the table like he is checking if I am real.
This family is close.
Closer than the original story ever described.
Which means something is wrong.
Or something was never told properly.
And I need to find out what.
I push food around my plate, thoughts spinning.
Finally, without really planning to, I speak.
"Um," I say.
All three of them look at me immediately.
I swallow.
"There's something I wanted to ask."
My mum straightens. "What is it?"
I hesitate.
This is stupid.
But it slips out anyway.
"How is Evelyn?"
The table goes silent.
Completely silent.
Max freezes mid movement, bread halfway to his mouth.
My mum's hand stills on her cup.
My dad's eyes widen slightly.
I feel every single one of their gazes turn toward me like I just said something forbidden.
I frown. "What?"
My mum recovers first.
"She's fine," she says carefully. "Why do you ask?"
I shrug, forcing my tone to stay casual. "Just wondering."
Max studies my face like he is seeing me for the first time.
"You," he says slowly, "asking about Evelyn?"
My dad leans back slightly, arms crossing.
"This is new," he says.
My stomach tightens.
Is it really that strange?
I did not think it was.
I glance down, avoiding their eyes. "I can't ask?"
My mum stands up suddenly and moves toward me.
She places her hand gently on my shoulder.
"You can," she says softly. "Of course you can."
Her fingers press slightly, like she is grounding herself through me.
I feel it then.
That faint pull in my chest.
Not mine.
The original owner's.
"I was just curious," I repeat.
Maxx exhales slowly, then laughs.
"Well," he says, breaking the tension, "looks like the world is ending."
I shoot him a look. "Shut up."
He grins. "I'm serious. You never ask about her."
My mum says nothing.
She just keeps her hand on my shoulder a little longer than necessary.