CHAPTER EIGHT
"Leah!" Nova's voice cut through the quiet house like a whip. My heart lurched, hammering so violently I thought it might betray me. I froze mid-step, scarf still clutched in my trembling hands, my mind scrambling for words, for excuses—anything that could keep her from seeing through me.
"What… what are you doing out so late?" she demanded, her eyes sharp, slicing right through me. The lamplight caught the gold in her hair, making her look impossibly radiant, almost untouchable, yet intimidating at the same time.
I swallowed hard. "I… I was… I mean… the library, Mom. I—"
Nova's laugh was low, soft, but sharp enough to make me flinch. "The library?" she repeated, incredulity in her tone. "At this hour? And you thought sneaking out like this wouldn't be noticed?"
I chewed my lip, panic rising. "I just… I needed some fresh air," I said, trying to sound casual, though my voice betrayed the tremor inside me. "And I… I wanted to clear my head."
Her gaze softened slightly, but only for a heartbeat, before sharpening again. "And yet, you didn't answer your phone."
I froze. My fingers tightened around the scarf. "I… I put it away. I didn't want to be disturbed," I said quickly, hoping my voice sounded casual enough.
Nova's expression narrowed as she reached into her pocket and pulled out my phone, flipping it toward me. "Then explain this," she said, holding it up. The screen glowed with a line of missed calls, all from her. Her eyebrows lifted, and the corners of her lips curved into a knowing smile.
I swallowed hard. Oh no. My pulse jumped. I had been trying to cover it up, but Nova's sharp eyes had already caught the thread I tried to weave. "I… I didn't hear it ring," I murmured, fumbling for words. "I must have… put it down somewhere…"
Nova raised an eyebrow. "You must have, huh?" Her tone was calm, yet every syllable carried the weight of accusation. "Leah, I called at least five times. And every time, you didn't pick up. You know I can tell when someone is avoiding me."
My stomach twisted. I was caught, and I could feel it. How could I explain the truth without it sounding absurd? I tried to steady my voice. "I… I didn't think it was urgent."
Nova's eyes glimmered with a mixture of amusement and exasperation. She stepped closer, her presence filling the room, radiating an energy I couldn't quite describe—powerful, magnetic, almost overwhelming. "Not urgent? Not urgent, Leah? You've been sneaking around tonight, and you expect me to believe your phone wasn't ringing?"
I shrank back slightly, the scarf now pressed to my chest like a shield. "I… I just… I didn't want to be disturbed. That's all," I said, my voice smaller, unsure.
Her lips curved into a faint, knowing smile. "Really?" she murmured. "I think you've been out longer than you said. I think you've been somewhere you shouldn't be." Her eyes, sharp and assessing, pinned me to the floor. "And I think you know exactly why I'm asking these questions."
I swallowed hard, heat rising in my cheeks. "I… I was just… thinking, Mom. I wanted… to…" My words stumbled over themselves, failing to make sense even to me. I felt cornered, trapped beneath the weight of her gaze.
Nova's smile widened slightly, but her eyes remained sharp. "Thinking, hmm? Or was it someone you wanted to see?"
My throat tightened, and I had to force myself to remain silent. The scarf felt heavier in my hands, as if it absorbed my confusion and fear. Every instinct screamed at me to run, to hide, to explain, but the truth was a puzzle I couldn't piece together.
She stepped closer, glancing at the scarf in my hands, and the familiar scent of its fabric made my chest ache with the memory of the note and the mysterious gift. "And what is this, hmm?" she asked, her tone playful, yet there was something dangerous behind the softness.
"It… it's nothing," I said quickly, pulling it closer, though I could feel the lie unraveling in the air.
Nova tilted her head, eyes glinting with something I couldn't name. "Nothing, huh? You've been hiding things from me, Leah. Secrets. Little adventures that don't belong in a library. I can see it in your eyes."
I bit my lip, wishing I could disappear, wishing the ground would swallow me whole. "I… I didn't mean any harm," I said, though the words sounded weak even to me.
Her laugh was soft and teasing, but sharp. "Harm? Perhaps. But you have a knack for making life… interesting," she said, her gaze flicking toward the door for a heartbeat before returning to me. "I suppose the night isn't over for either of us yet."
I felt a shiver run down my spine, but I couldn't tell if it was from fear, anticipation, or a strange mix of both. The scarf in my hands seemed to hum with the energy of the evening, a pulse that I could almost hear.
Then, a knock sounded at the door—urgent, sudden, unexpected. My pulse jumped, and I glanced at Nova, who raised an eyebrow and moved toward it with her usual grace.
"Who…?" I began, but Nova opened the door without hesitation. The hallway was empty. Only the faint echo of footsteps lingered in the night. My chest tightened; the quiet felt heavier, charged, as if the air itself held its breath.
Nova glanced at me, a small, enigmatic smile curving her lips. "It seems your evening isn't done yet," she murmured, almost to herself.
I shivered. The night seemed to thrum with energy, every sound amplified—the distant hum of traffic, the wind slipping through the cracks in the window, the soft rustle of leaves outside. It was as if the city itself was holding its secrets, daring us to uncover them.
Nova turned back to me, her voice lowering, almost a whisper. "Leah, I hope you understand—tonight isn't the time for mistakes. You have a way of drawing trouble to yourself, and I won't let it catch you unprepared."
I nodded, clutching the scarf tightly. My thoughts were a whirlwind of confusion and longing, the evening spinning in fragments—the note, the scarf, the empty square, the fleeting shadow I thought I saw, Kian's unexpected appearance, and the unseen presence that had been there before. I could feel my chest tightening with every recollection, the thrill and the fear mingling into a pulse I couldn't control.
Nova stepped back, her gaze still sharp. "Secrets are dangerous, Leah. They stretch farther than you realize. And eventually… they catch up with you."
I shivered again, the words sinking into me. I didn't know what tomorrow would bring, or what truths might surface. But I knew one thing: tonight had changed something. The air felt heavier, the shadows more alive, and the quiet moments were charged with possibilities I couldn't yet name.
I sank into a chair, scarf still pressed to my chest, trying to steady my racing thoughts. The house was quiet now, but the tension lingered, wrapping around me like a cloak I couldn't remove. Every sense felt heightened—the faint creak of the floorboards, the whisper of wind through the window, the distant hum of the city. I could almost hear my own heartbeat in the silence.
Nova's words echoed again in my mind: Secrets stretch farther than you realize. Eventually… they catch up. And though I didn't understand them fully, I knew she was right.
Even as I tried to calm myself, I couldn't shake the feeling that tonight was just the beginning. Something had shifted, something fragile but undeniable, and I knew the coming days would be filled with discoveries I wasn't ready for.
The scarf in my hands seemed heavier now, as if it carried the weight of the night, the missed calls, the lies, and the possibilities. I pressed it closer, wishing for clarity, wishing for answers, though I knew they would not come easily.
Outside, the wind rustled, carrying the faint scent of flowers, and I caught myself imagining someone standing in the shadows, waiting, disappointed, patient, and alone. But that was a thought I quickly pushed away.
Nova watched me quietly from across the room, a faint smile on her lips, and for a moment, I felt the tension break just slightly. But I knew better than to let my guard down. In her presence, secrets were never safe, and every action, every word, every hesitation carried weight.
I sat there, heart still pounding, scarf still clutched to my chest, knowing that the night had changed everything. And though I didn't know what the next hour—or the next day—would bring, I knew I had crossed a threshold. Something had begun, and there was no turning back.