Eight years ago:
I was annoyed.
Mum dragged me into the establishment, gripping my hand like I might bolt. As if the dozen armored men outside weren't enough to keep me in line. People stared, of course—they always did.
Gosh, Mum. All this because your friend opened a fancy restaurant? Overkill much?
I clicked my tongue, and she glanced back with a reassuring smile. "Ada, I promise, just an hour. Then we'll head home."
Liar. "Don't worry, Mum. I trust you," I said sweetly. Guilt-trip level: expert.
Inside, the place was painfully silent, despite the bustle of diners and waiters. Ugh. Old people and their obsession with etiquette. Two suited men greeted us, one directing Mum to an elevator.
"Hey," I waved. "What about me? I'm not invisible, you know."
One man blinked, clearly just noticing me. How insulting. The other bowed stiffly. "Apologies, Miss. Please follow me."
"Don't bow, sir. Leave some pride for yourself," I tutted, shaking my head. Poor guy looked like he'd swallowed a lemon.
Mum, meanwhile, smiled at me like she was silently questioning her genes.
We rode the elevator to meet her—Mum's friend, Lyra. Cue dramatic entrance: Lyra strolled out of a boardroom, with all that bossy aura and some excitement. "Victoria!" she squealed, hugging Mum.
I narrowed my eyes. Nobody hugged Mum like that but me and Dad. Immediate dislike.
Lyra bent to my level, all smiles. "You're so cute!" she cooed, pinching my cheek.
"Don't touch me."
"And sassy," she added, unfazed.
This woman was weird. "You're just going to talk boring adult stuff, right?" I asked.
Mum groaned. Lyra chuckled. "She's hilarious. How did someone like you have her?"
"Still my cute little girl," Mum insisted weakly.
I'd had enough. "I'm leaving."
Lyra called after me, still laughing. "Let those two follow her."
Great. Babysitters.
"Listen, from now on, you're Tom, and you're Jerry," I declared confidently, pointing to each of them as we walked toward the elevator. I nodded to myself, feeling immensely proud of my clearly unmatched naming skills.
Downstairs, the restaurant was as boring as expected—until I spotted a table of kids my age, dressed like mini ninjas and looking suspiciously out of place. My curiosity piqued, I marched over.
"Hey, Jerry," I said to one of my bodyguards. "Get me a chair."
He obeyed without question.
I turned to the kids. "Hi, I'm Ada. What's your name?"
One of them, the only female—brown-eyed and pretty—turned to look at me with shaky eyes before quickly averting her gaze.
"Leave," one of the boys said, his tone cold. It felt like a command, and his scary aura would make any normal person obey.
Well, that was if I were normal.
Just then, Jerry returned with a chair, and I sat on it, ignoring the same boy who was now glaring coldly at me.
I've decided. I'll call him Mr. Grumpy from now on.
"What are your names?" I asked. I was curious about a lot—like their clothes and how they were together but didn't seem like friends—but I decided to start with this.
"Ai… Aisha," the only girl mumbled, almost inaudible. She seemed shaken or maybe just shy.
One of the boys glanced at her, concern flickering in his eyes. He was, without question, the cutest person I had ever seen.
"Our names both start with an A," I said with a smile. "Aisha, I guess this means we'll be really good friends."
"Really?" she asked hesitantly.
"Of course," I replied. "It's a sign. We have to take it seriously."
The cute-faced boy smiled, and my brain froze for a moment. I wasn't immune to cute boys, but his smile was something else.
"I'm Luke," he introduced himself. "This here is Obinna, and over there is Matthew. Don't mind him; he's rude to all of us."
I turned to Obinna, who was the youngest and had been silent the entire time. Then I realized why—his stomach growled loudly, audible even from where I sat.
"Hey, Tom," I called without looking. "Get us something to eat, will you?"
As Tom walked away, Mr. Grumpy narrowed his eyes at me.
"We're not hungry. Don't waste your time," he said flatly.
I looked at him like he'd lost it. "No kidding, Sherlock. Obinna totally looks like he's full and couldn't eat another bite. You're such a genius."
Luke burst out laughing as Mr. Grumpy glared at me.
"Only dogs growl," I said casually, then turned to Aisha. "Your hair is beautiful, by the way."
"Thank you," she replied, then frowned. "Dogs… Do you have a dog?"
Her short, random way of speaking caught me off guard.
"No, but I have a cat. Her name's Kittypaws."
"Not cats," Aisha said firmly. "Cats are bad. I want a dog."
That offended me. Kittypaws wasn't bad—lazy, sure, but not bad.
"Cats are cute," I argued. "Dogs are just… loud. Cats win."
Aisha pouted, clearly disagreeing.
"Hey, Ada," Luke interrupted, drawing my attention. "Why are you being so nice to us? You don't even know us."
"I was bored," I admitted honestly. "At first, anyway. But now, I've changed my mind. You guys are interesting, and I want to know more about you. Of course…" I trailed off dramatically. "It would be rude to ask too much."
"Like what?" Mr. Grumpy asked, his glare sharpening.
"Oh, you know," I said, smirking. "Why you're dressed like ninjas. How you're together but don't seem like friends. Why you're all alone with no adults around—which, by the way, makes me jealous. And last but not least, why am I the only one who seems to notice how weird this looks?"
Silence. I'd clearly hit a nerve.
I shrugged it off. Everyone has secrets.
The food arrived, and I turned to Obinna. "Want me to feed you?"
Obinna looked at the others, their faces filled with hesitation.
"Eat it first," Mr. Grumpy ordered, his voice like ice.
It dawned on me—they thought it was poisoned.
Luke noticed my expression and sighed. "I'm sorry, Ada. Listen, we're really hungry, but… we're weird, okay? Just humor us this once."
I sighed but obliged, tasting everything in front of them. Once I finished, it was like a switch flipped—they devoured the food like wolves.
They finished in minutes, and it broke my heart to see kids so hungry.
"Do you want more?" I asked softly.
Aisha smiled, her lips stained with sauce. "You're a good person, Ada. You're nothing like me."
Her words confused me, but I let it slide.
Then Mr. Grumpy spoke again. "Your outfit… it looks like you escaped from a circus."
I snapped. "I don't dress like a clown!"
"A clown wouldn't know they dress like one," he smirked.
"Matthew, stop," Luke said, though he was trying not to laugh.
I crossed my arms. "Do I really dress that badly?"
"No," Obinna interjected, his tone earnest. "You look amazing. Don't listen to him."
We bickered like that for hours, our laughter filling the restaurant. By the time we finished, it felt like we'd known each other forever.
"What high school are you going to?" Aisha asked.
"Nerland," I replied. "Not my choice—Granny's orders."
Their mood shifted, though I couldn't figure out why.
Then they all turned toward the door.
A dozen men in suits stood outside, staring right at us.
Obinna stood abruptly. "We need to go."
"I'll escort you," I offered, standing up.
"No," Aisha said, her hands trembling as she pushed me back down. "Stay here. Please."
Luke smiled softly. "Thanks, Ada. You're amazing, but we have to go."
One by one, they hugged me, whispering words that left my heart full and aching at the same time.
"You're the one who keeps me grounded," Obinna said.
"You're my friend," Aisha added.
"You made me feel alive again," Luke whispered.
"You're the light when everything feels dark," Matthew murmured.
And then they just walked off towards those weird guys standing outside.
"What the heck was that?" I huffed, crossing my arms. Seriously, what kind of nonsense was that? They'd been here for a while, and then—bam—they just left. And now, for some weird reason, my chest felt all tight, like I lost something important. Ugh. Whatever. Not dealing with that right now.
Then I saw Mum storming out of the elevator, her fancy heels clacking like she had something super urgent to do. Her friend, Lyra, was right behind her, looking way less dramatic. I squinted. What could possibly have her in such a rush? Did someone finally expose her tragic fashion choices?
That's when I noticed the restaurant was practically empty. Huh. That's weird. It wasn't even dark yet. When did everyone leave? Oh, right. I was too busy chatting to notice a whole apocalypse if it happened. Classic me.
"Get up, Ada, we're leaving," Mum ordered, her bossy tone cranked up to a hundred.
"What's the big deal?" I asked, getting up anyway because, yeah, I wasn't exactly dying to stay here either. This place was giving me the creeps now.
"There was an explosion. Some mass murder. About a hundred people dead," Mum said, sounding all impatient, like she wasn't talking about something completely insane.
Lyra sighed like Mum was being overdramatic. "Vicky, what's the rush? No one in their right mind would try to cross the Storm's now."
"I know," Mum snapped. "But I'm not taking any chances with my daughter."
Wow. First time in forever she's acting like I'm actually important. Noted.
"Did they catch the bad guys?" I asked, following her toward the exit.
Mum snorted. "Oh, please. Since when do the police actually do their job?"
Oof. Someone's in a mood.
"They only have blurry footage of four people in black driving away after the explosion," Mum said with a sigh. "Tell me, Ada, how does that help?"
And just like that, my brain conjured four faces instantly. But no way. That was ridiculous. Eight-year-olds don't drive cars.
And they weren't bad guys. They were like me. Just kids.
A whole little army of armored soldiers surrounded us, guiding us into the Mercedes Maybach like we were some big deal—because we were. The convoy closed in around us, taking off the second we started moving. And, of course, the moment we were inside, we sped off like we were the stars of some action movie.
I stared out the window, gripping my seatbelt, thinking about my four friends.
I really, really hoped they were okay.