Layla was ecstatic to see her brother, Watts, standing before her, alive and well. The last time he left, he had muttered something vague about "finishing some business," leaving her riddled with worry that she might never see him again.
Honestly, she didn't know what was happening in his life anymore. It felt almost supernatural. For starters, the guy had basically disappeared into thin air—something she thought only happened in movies.
How had her own brother managed that? Some kind of teleportation or something? Or was he playing a prank on her?
But the Watts she knew would never joke around, especially given their aunt's fragile condition. And how could he possibly explain the government agents who came looking for him? Her mind raced with questions, so many that she felt utterly numb.
Suddenly, the door creaked open, the sound breaking the oppressive silence in the room. The noise stirred their ailing aunt, who had been resting fitfully in her bed. Layla turned to the doorway and froze. There he was—Watts.
Relief swept over her like a tidal wave. She had truly believed he might never return, that he could be lost forever. But before she could rush to him, her smile faltered. Their aunt was awake now, and Layla knew her too well. Her disdain for anything remotely supernatural was no family secret.
This was the same aunt who had refused to let them watch fantasy movies as kids. She didn't like miracles in church, even dismissed them outright. Her reaction to anything extraordinary wasn't just skepticism; it was as though something deeper, darker fueled her disdain.
And now, her eyes were on Watts.
Layla glanced nervously at her aunt, expecting some kind of outburst. Instead, her aunt's face was eerily blank, devoid of its usual warmth.
A chill ran down Layla's spine, this had never happened, her aunt would by now be smiling away and welcoming him.
"Leave us," their aunt said, her voice calm but firm, her gaze fixed on Layla.
Layla hesitated but eventually left the room, closing the door behind her. Outside, she lingered, ears straining to catch fragments of the conversation.
After Layla left, Watts slowly walked towards his aunt's bed but stayed at a considerable distance.
"How are you feeling, aunt," he asked in a low voice.
She was silent. Adamantly looking at him. Like an unmoveable rock.
"You really awakened your superpower, huh?" she murtured.
Now Watts was surprised, because with only that statement, it showed that their aunt, with whom they have lived with for a long time, knew more than she let up.
"D-Do you....." he muttered shakily.
Liz closed her watery eyes and took a deep breath, trying to fight against the coming tears.
Liz closed her eyes briefly, fighting back tears. "Of course I know, dammit," she said bitterly. "And I don't want anything to do with it. It's not a beautiful world out there, sweetheart."
Her words were slow, heavy with sorrow. Whatever knowledge she carried, it weighed on her deeply, more than she had ever let on.
"But why?" Watts pressed, his voice tinged with frustration. "I have to find out—"
"You will not!" Liz snapped, her voice trembling. "If you respect me, if you respect your mother, you will promise me—promise me you won't go deeper into this. Please!" Her voice broke, tears streaming down her face.
Watts stepped closer, his fists clenched. "I'm sorry, Aunt Liz, but your bias against anything supernatural doesn't give you the right to—" He paused, his voice rising. "What happened? What did they do to you? What can't you let go of?"
Liz's face crumpled as she shouted, "They took my sister!"
Watts froze, her words like a knife to his chest.
"They took her," Liz continued, her voice shaking. "I warned her. I begged her not to get involved, but she wouldn't listen. And now she's gone. Don't you see? I can't lose you too, Watts. I can't. Please promise me."
Watts dropped to his knees, grabbing her trembling hands. "What do you mean? They took her? My mom? Who? Tell me!" His voice was desperate now, tears pooling in his eyes.
Liz just shook her head. "Just promise me. They'll come for you if you make the same mistake. I can't bear to lose you too. Please, Watts."
Her plea was a dagger to his resolve. He felt something bubbling within him—anger, frustration, determination. Liz clearly knew more about his mother's death, possibly even his father's. But she wouldn't say. She wouldn't reveal the truth.
Watts inhaled sharply and stood. He wiped the tears from his face and took a step back. "I'm sorry, Aunt Liz," he said, his voice steady now. "I can't make you that promise. Whoever they are, they have to pay for what they've done."
"No!" Liz cried, her voice cracking. "Please, sweetheart, don't go. Forget them. Move on with your life. Don't make me break my promise to her. Please!" She sobbed openly as Watts turned away, walking toward the door.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice barely audible over her sobs. He opened the door and left without looking back.
Behind him, Liz collapsed into inconsolable tears. "I failed you, sis," she muttered between sobs. "I couldn't protect your son. I'm so sorry. Forgive me." Her cries filled the room, a painful symphony of guilt and grief.
Watts, now outside, leaned against the wall, his chest heaving. Tears streamed down his face as he fought to steady himself. Knowing he was the cause of his beloved aunt's agony made his heart ache, but he couldn't lie to her. He couldn't make a promise he knew he would break.
He couldn't let it go.
Layla, still standing near the door, had heard everything. Her aunt's heart-wrenching sobs reached her ears, and tears ran down her face too.
She hadn't expected the day to unravel like this. Their family, once tightly bound by love, now seemed irreparably fractured by secrets, grief, and a quest for answers that could destroy them all.