Chapter 10: Hidden Heritage

7 8The apartment door opened after my gentle knocks. My brain could no longer handle any more information; my head felt heavy, and my body was becoming increasingly limp. Ruth hurried to catch me, her worried expression evident in her eyes. She guided me to the armchair and gently leaned me back; my head fell against the back, and I could barely hear what she was saying. María approached me with a cup of tea in her hands and offered it to me.

"Drink this; it will do you good," she said, brushing a strand of her long hair away from her face.

Ruth stayed by my side, looking at me as if searching for some answer within me.

"You went after Audrey, didn't you? Did he do something to you?" Ruth broke the silence with concern.

I could only shake my head.

But my tired, slow gaze turned back to María.

"Why are you acting like nothing happened?" I said, struggling to form the words.

The girls exchanged glances, which heightened the tension within me.

"María, you saw what happened. You told me about the blood when I tried to greet you," I said, agitated, but I could barely muster any strength.

"It's nothing, Emma. I already told you, you're just going through a rough time, and we understand," Ruth intervened, as if avoiding the topic, while standing up to light a cigarette.

"Enough! Tell her the truth!" María yelled, starting to cry.

"Shut up!" Ruth shouted.

Their conversation left me even more bewildered. I wanted to ask what was going on, but...

"Tell her your mother had the same issues!" María yelled, wrapped in tears.

Ruth turned around, her eyes wide as she inhaled the cigarette; her hands trembled. She took a deep breath and said:

"My mother... had those behaviors, those outbursts of anger. She was crazy!" Ruth's expression was even more confounded, as if she were opening an unpleasant chapter of her life.

"She wasn't crazy!!! You know she was a witch!!" María screamed, engulfed in tears as she pulled at her hair, as if the topic disturbed her.

"Enough, María!!! Don't make me angry or..." Ruth started to get agitated.

"Oh, what? Will you break everything like Emma?" María shouted, standing up and hugging herself as if she were suffering some kind of instability. She continued, "You, Ruth, your mother, and you too, Emma, all carry the blood of these cursed lands; you're all witches!" Breaking into sobs, she covered her face with her hands.

Ruth remained speechless, seemingly accepting every word. My mind was overwhelmed with confusion. I was trying to process what they were saying, but the fatigue and stress made it difficult to understand.

"What do you mean by that? How do you know?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

"The day you arrived at this house, María saw something... something that made her think of your ancestral heritage," Ruth interjected, her voice trembling. "She can see more than a regular person. She saw in you something that goes beyond mere anger, something that has deep roots in dark magic."

The revelation left me even more confused. The idea that my grandmother might have been involved in something like witchcraft was unsettling. I think now my strange dreams and visions have an explanation. My mind spun between Ruth and María's words, trying to make sense of what was happening.

"But... I didn't know anything about witchcraft in my family. I only knew something about a pact my grandmother made," I said, trying to understand.

"Whatever happened with your grandmother, whatever she did, it has left a mark on you," Ruth said, her voice tinged with sadness. "And that's something you can't ignore, just as I can't, even though I've tried with all my strength."

The pressure in my head became unbearable. The echoes of the argument faded, and my vision blurred. My body collapsed onto the couch.

"Emma... Emma, wake up..." Then... silence...

I opened my eyes, and the light coming through the window hurt my eyes. I sat up in bed, dazed; my feet made contact with the cold floor, pulling me back into reality. I went in search of coffee in the kitchen.

"Hey, you're awake," Ruth said, hugging me tightly and handing me a cup of tea.

The weight of yesterday's discoveries crashed down on my back as if I were carrying the world in a backpack.

"Before you say anything," Ruth said, pointing a finger at me, "don't ask questions about yesterday's confessions and discoveries. Just breathe; I promise I'll help you figure this out."

Her words were strong and clear. Ruth was so empathetic; she was the sister I had never had, and now we shared almost the same questions. I just breathed and hugged her tightly.

"Listen, I have to go out for some shopping, and I have work tonight, so I spoke to Ryan to keep an eye on you," she said, and her words felt uncomfortable.

"Hey, you don't need to babysit me, please," I said, grimacing as I brought the cup of coffee to my lips.

"Emma, you fainted yesterday. You probably slept well thanks to the sedative we gave you," she said, grabbing her bag and keys to leave.

"I don't remember anything about sedatives, just your harsh confession and then darkness," my concern came rushing back.

"No, no, no. Go get dressed; Ryan is about to arrive," she said, shutting the door.

I took a deep breath; everything returned to my mind: "My grandmother is so special to me. There must be some lie here. I can't believe James' words." I mentioned his name and couldn't help but remember him. He had always been so arrogant, but yesterday he looked so tired and worn out. A stupid fantasy crossed my mind: "What if... I could just understand what lies behind his mystery?" "Maybe he's going through a rough patch just like me." But... what's wrong with me? I have so many problems, and I can only worry about this man.

I shook my head and went to change in the room. It was afternoon, so I decided to put on a short floral dress and some comfortable sandals. I tried to brighten my face with pink lipstick and brushed my hair a bit. I looked at myself in the mirror and held my cat pendant tightly. The doorbell rang, and I hurried to open it.

"Hey, beautiful," Ryan said, smiling.

His fitted sweater accentuated every definition of his physique.

"Hi," I said seriously, making an effort not to think about anything.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Let's go," he gestured for me to follow him; he smiled and scratched his head.