chapter 6: unfinished conversations

Aunt Jennie exhaled slowly, steadying herself before unlocking the door. She had known this moment would come, but not this soon. Not him.

When she opened the door, he stood on the other side, leaning casually against the frame, arms crossed. His expression was unreadable, but the sharp glint in his golden red eyes told her everything. He wasn't here for pleasantries.

"Long time, Aunt Jennie." His voice was smooth, easy, but she heard the weight behind it.

Jennie didn't waste time. "You shouldn't be here."

He smirked, stepping inside anyway. "And yet, here I am."

She closed the door behind him, her fingers twitching at her sides. The wards around the shop buzzed faintly—alert, on edge. Even the air felt heavier.

"You've been looking for answers," she said, moving toward the counter, keeping her tone neutral. "That's dangerous."

He leaned against the opposite shelf, picking up a small talisman, rolling it between his fingers. "What's more dangerous? The answers or the fact that I have to go digging for them?"

Jennie's lips pressed into a thin line.

He set the talisman down and met her gaze. "Who is she?"

Jennie didn't flinch. Didn't blink. "Who?"

A dry chuckle. "You know exactly who."

For a long moment, neither spoke. The shop was silent except for the faint hum of magic woven into the walls.

Then Jennie sighed, rubbing her temple. "Leave it alone. Go back to your world. Forget this."

His jaw tensed. "I can't."

She shook her head. "Then you're not ready for the truth."

His patience snapped. "That's bullshit, and you know it. I feel it. I remember something, even if I don't know what it is. And you—you know. You've always known."

Jennie exhaled sharply. "Then let me give you some advice. Stop looking before someone else realizes you are."

His smirk returned, but it was sharper now, more dangerous. "Someone already has."

Jennie stiffened.

That got her attention.

He tilted his head. "You think I'm the only one remembering?" He leaned in slightly. "Tell me, Aunt Jennie—how long do you think you can keep her in the dark before someone else gets to her first?"

Jennie's fingers curled into fists. "Get out."

He held her gaze a moment longer before pushing off the counter. "Fine." He strode toward the door, pausing just before opening it. "But don't think for a second this is over."

Then he was gone.

Jennie let out a breath, gripping the edge of the counter. Damn it.

She needed to act. Fast.

---

Kenyatta University – Later That Day

Allie dropped her bag onto the cafeteria table, sighing as she sat across from Lexi.

Lexi barely looked up from her fries. "You look like death."

"Thanks," Allie muttered, rubbing her temples.

"Lemme guess—another sleepless night?"

Allie nodded, reaching for Lexi's drink and taking a sip without asking. "Aunt Jennie's been acting weird."

Lexi perked up. "Weird how? Secret meetings? Suspicious phone calls? Mysterious packages?"

Allie rolled her eyes. "Just... distant. Distracted." She exhaled. "It's probably nothing."

Lexi gave her a knowing look. "It's never nothing."

Before Allie could respond, a sudden shift in the cafeteria's atmosphere made her pause. The volume of chatter dipped, replaced by hushed whispers and stolen glances.

She turned slightly—and saw him.

The red-eyed guy.

He walked in, all confidence and easy arrogance, his presence magnetic. He wasn't alone—his usual crowd of rich, effortlessly cool friends trailed behind him. People watched, whispered, stared.

The new rich guy. The mystery transfer. The rumored playboy.

Allie frowned. "Who is that?"

Lexi followed her gaze and snorted. "Oh, him? Adrian. Total player, filthy rich, and possibly allergic to attending class."

Allie arched a brow. "And you know this how?"

Lexi smirked. "People talk. And I listen."

The red-eyed guy, seemingly unaware—or completely indifferent—to the attention, made his way through the cafeteria. But just as he passed Allie and Lexi's table, something happened.

He paused.

Just for a second.

His eyes flickered to Allie's.

And for a brief, inexplicable moment, Allie felt something.

A pull. A whisper of familiarity. Like something she had long forgotten trying to resurface.

Then it was gone.

He didn't say a word. He simply smirked—just barely—before continuing on his way.

Lexi leaned in, eyes gleaming. "Well, that was interesting."

Allie shook off the strange sensation and rolled her eyes. "You're imagining things."

Lexi grinned. "Sure I am."

But deep down, Allie wasn't so sure.