Chapter 8 Number

With a fleeting glance, Evangeline assessed me; her eyes seemed to subtly scrutinize me. In a fluid motion, she turned to the police officer who was watching her with a blatantly curious gaze, his eyes particularly fixated on the most voluptuous parts of her body.

"I would like to speak privately with the precinct captain of this station. Could you escort me to him?" Evangeline's voice was resolute, without hesitation. She wanted to resolve whatever it was as quickly as possible, so she could return to the tranquility of her home.

Taking advantage of the moment when she had her back turned, I activated my ocular powers, causing a series of information about her to appear in my line of sight.

{Name: Evangeline

Age: 2048 years

Father- }

Before I could read more, she disappeared through the door of the police officer's office. I blinked in frustration. I wanted to know more about her, about her thoughts. But I didn't have the opportunity.

"Who is she, son?" My mother asked. Her voice betrayed surprise, her face expressing confusion at seeing a woman who exuded an air of high class enter and ask to see a police officer named Eugenio. She thought maybe the woman had made a mistake, but it was clear she hadn't.

"I don't know," I replied, thoughtfully. I had a vague suspicion that she might be related to Seraphina - that name had recently crossed my path, and now it was coming back.

"Are you okay? Are you hungry? I can go get something to eat if you'd like." My aunt got up from the wooden bench, her eyes filled with affection for me. She occasionally glanced at the door through which Evangeline had entered with the police officer. She seemed restless, as if she feared something. I used my powers again, this time to read her thoughts.

{Name: Paula Andrade

Emotional state: Alert, sad, doubtful

Current thoughts: "Who is this woman? Is she his girlfriend..? Does he already have a girlfriend? Am I sad? What am I thinking, I'm married... maybe not anymore, am I going to get rid of my abusive husband? I hope so. My nephew is young, it's normal for him to have a girlfriend, he's handsome too."}

"I'd like some, Aunt, thank you," I murmured, a look of gentle gratitude on my face. "I apologize for the inconvenience; it really wasn't my intention. But I must admit I'm relieved by your presence, even though I'm aware you're sacrificing your sleep for my sake."

I was deeply concerned for my aunt. She was an amazing woman who didn't deserve the adversities life threw at her, especially those coming from her husband, a man sadly lacking in character.

But my aunt's gentle smile softened my concern. "Don't worry," she said, with a soft laugh that brightened the heavy atmosphere, "this is nothing for your aunt! I've spent plenty of nights awake because of games; I can handle it. I'll go get something for you to eat."

I held her hand, feeling the softness of her skin against mine. I gave it a gentle squeeze, a simple gesture but laden with emotion. I smiled back at her, a smile filled with remorse and silent gratitude.

And then, with a deep breath, I revealed something that had been weighing on my heart: "I don't have a girlfriend." Silence fell between us for a moment before I turned to my mother, seeking some kind of support from her.

My aunt stared at me, her expression a mix of surprise and contemplation. Then, with a determined nod, she left the room to get something for me to eat. The sound of her footsteps echoed down the hallway of the police station, leaving a trail of silence behind her.

I settled into the rustic and uncomfortably hard wooden chair that the police station offered, my mother doing the same next to me. We could feel the tension in the air, curiosity and suspicion mixed in a bitter blend of anticipation.

"You really don't know this woman?" My mother's question was a mixture of disbelief and a touch of maternal concern. The possibility of a stranger, though clearly powerful and imposing, appearing out of nowhere to help me seemed absurd, a mystery that seemed beyond comprehension.

"No. I've never seen her before in my life," I assured her, my voice infused with the plain, unvarnished truth. My words were a reflection of complete ignorance, the exception being the brief and fragmented information my ocular powers had provided me. Without them, I would be completely in the dark about this mysterious woman.

As if in response to my statement, the door of the police station swung open with a loud creak, revealing Evangeline's elegant figure. She was accompanied by a police officer, his face contorted in discomfort. Their eyes met mine, and in them, I could see a spark of fear dancing, reflecting the cold light of the environment.

It was as if he were looking into an abyss, into something beyond his understanding and control. Evangeline's presence unnerved him, her dominating and authoritative aura making him uncomfortable, struggling to maintain his composure.

Evangeline, on the other hand, walked with a grace that seemed to defy the charged atmosphere of the police station, as if she were in a ballroom rather than an interrogation room. She was an enigma, a woman who seemed to have stepped out of fairy tales, but here she was, in the flesh, a presence as real as she was mysterious.

Evangeline turned to me, her eyes locked onto mine. "Everything is resolved; you can go home now." Her voice was firm but gentle. The message was clear; she had managed to solve the problem that seemed insurmountable to me.

My mother and I were in shock. Evangeline had effortlessly resolved our issue. It was impressive, almost unbelievable. My mother seemed lost in thought, perhaps trying to make sense of what had just happened.

Evangeline then did something unexpected. She reached out to me and said, "I would like to have your phone number." Her face was calm, almost impassive. It showed no emotion, as if she were asking for something mundane, like the time.