CHAPTER 5

The evening settled over the house, its weight pressing down on the atmosphere, casting long shadows that seemed to deepen the silence. Elena sat, her back slightly hunched, her fingers nervously twisting the hem of her blouse. The warmth of the day had long since faded, replaced by a chill that seemed to penetrate her very core. It was as though the shadows in the room mirrored the turmoil in her heart, dense and oppressive.

Rafael had just returned, his steps heavy as he entered the living room, his eyes immediately searching for his sister. When he spotted her, sitting alone in a dimly lit corner of the room, he paused for a moment, his expression softening. Something about the stillness of the room, the absence of the usual liveliness made his heart tighten with concern.

"Elena?" His voice was gentle but edged with concern as he walked up to her. "What's wrong?"

Elena looked up, her eyes red-rimmed, her gaze holding a deep sadness that he hadn't seen in a long time. She opened her mouth to speak but hesitated, as though the words were too heavy to let go.

"The DeLuca family…" she began, her voice barely above a whisper, as though she feared saying their name would make it all too real. "Lorenzo came to the shop today. He... he said something about us owing a debt to his family."

Rafael's face hardened, and for a moment, he didn't speak. His gaze shifted to the window, and Elena following his gaze caught a glimpse of the storm brewing outside—thunder rumbled in the distance, a fitting echo for the chaos she felt inside.

She continued, her voice quivering slightly, "He... He said the time had come, that we can't run from it anymore." Her eyes found his, a look of quiet desperation etched on her face. "Do you know about this, Rafael? About our past with the DeLucas?"

Rafael looked back at her, his expression tight, his jaw clenched. He nodded slowly.

He had known about this since he was small. It was not only the debt he was aware of but also the incident that led to it. Even Elena who now looked betrayed was once aware of all this before the loss of her memory due to the trauma she had experienced both from personal experience and the death of their brothers. "I knew," he said, his voice raw with emotions. "I've always known."

The words struck Elena with a jarring force. The realization that Rafael had known all along—the entire time—while she had been kept in the dark, stung deeply. She tried to hide the hurt that bloomed inside her chest, but it was there, sharp and jagged.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked, her voice trembling now, a hint of accusation in her tone. "Why didn't anyone let me know?"

Rafael's gaze softened, and he moved to sit beside her, his hand gently resting on her shoulder. "It wasn't for you to know, Elena. It was to keep you safe. Our parents wanted to protect you from the past—the things that could bring you harm."

But the pain in Elena's eyes didn't fade. "I feel like I've been living a lie," she murmured, her voice cracking. "Like everything I thought I knew was just a mask."

Before Rafael could respond, their parents appeared at the top of the stairs. Their faces were somber, their movements slow, as if the weight of unspoken truths held them back. Elena's father, his once commanding presence now seemingly diminished by the weight of the situation, came down and gestured to them both to sit.

"Sit down," he said quietly, his voice carrying the heaviness of years of silence. "We need to talk."

Elena and Rafael exchanged a brief glance before sitting together on the couch, their eyes locked on their parents as they took their places across from them. Her father cleared his throat, the tension in the room thickening.

"The debt we owe the DeLucas... The debt we owe the DeLucas is not something we could escape, Elena," he began, his voice low and measured. "Your mother and I have tried to distance ourselves from that world, but the past never truly lets go. Lorenzo's visit today is a reminder that the time had come to face what we've avoided for so long."

Elena's stomach twisted at the mention of Lorenzo's name, her mind racing back to his cold, calculating presence in the shop earlier that day. She recalled his parting words—the time has come—and shivered.

"If... If this is linked to our past lives, is it perhaps connected to my brothers' death too?" Elena asked hesitantly, scared of what the answer might be.

Everywhere became silent after Elena's question was raised. Her gaze continued to shift between her father and mother, waiting for an answer and when she thought she wouldn't get one, Rafael opened his mouth as if to speak then closes it and then he finally talked.

"Yes, it is connected," Rafael replied. "And how do you know that when I don't?" Elena questioned.

"You were not aware because you were with your Aunt oversees," their father quickly interjected, cutting off whatever Rafael wanted to say.

Elena noticed this and with her mother's expression growing tense, Elena could see the flicker of something unspoken pass between them. They weren't just worried about the debt, they were terrified. The tension in the room thickened as Elena realized that they were keeping something from her.

She opened her mouth to ask, but her father spoke before she could. "We don't want to burden you with all the details, Elena," he said, his eyes dark with regret. "But you need to understand that this debt... it's not just about money. It's about a past that was full of things we can't undo."

Elena felt the weight of their words, but it wasn't just their reluctance to share—it was the fear and pain in their eyes that deterred her from demanding answers. She could sense the things they were trying to protect her from, the secrets they were keeping. And then, as if on cue, her mind wandered back to Lorenzo's visit, to the cryptic message he'd left for them.

The time had come.

She glanced at Rafael, her voice a whisper, "What did that message mean? What did he mean by that?"

Her parents fell silent, their expressions clouded with uncertainty. Her mother glanced away, her fingers trembling slightly as she clasped them together. Her father's lips pressed into a tight line, as though the words were too dangerous to say aloud.

They both knew what it meant. It was a reminder that whatever they had hoped to avoid was no longer a choice. The DeLucas were coming, and they couldn't stop it.

Elena felt a knot form in her throat, a strange mixture of fear and sorrow pooling in her chest. There was something deeper, something hidden in the past—something she couldn't fully understand yet, but she knew that it had been buried for a reason.

Suddenly, her father turned to Rafael, his expression hardening. "This is your responsibility now, Rafael. You're the one who will have to take care of this. I... I can't do it anymore."

Rafael nodded, his face grim. He stood up, his posture rigid. "I understand, Father," he said, though his voice betrayed none of the uncertainty that Elena could feel radiating from him. He still stood tall, ready to take on the responsibilities dumped on him. "I'll take care of it."

Elena's heart sank. She could see the fear in her parents' eyes, even if they tried to hide it. The DeLucas were not just creditors—they were a force to be reckoned with. And Lorenzo… He was a part of that force.

As Rafael left to make his calls, Elena stayed seated, her mind a whirlwind of confusion. She wanted to understand, to piece together the truth, but the more she uncovered, the more questions surfaced. The darkness that had always hovered at the edges of her life was now swallowing her whole.

And as she sat there, feeling more isolated than ever, she realized something she hadn't before: The past wasn't just a shadow that loomed over her—it was a cage, one that was closing in faster than she could escape.