Chapter 87 (Part 17)
The house did not quiet down after midnight.
It became something else. Not peaceful. Not still. Just… suspended. Like the pause between two heartbeats, stretched too long.
Alok sat in the wooden chair, his back straight, his eyes half closed. He was not sleeping. He had stopped trying to sleep hours ago. Every time his eyelids grew heavy, images flashed behind them Darian's smile, Agata's pale face, the cold floor of the warehouse.
He kept his eyes open.
Across the room, the others had settled into their own versions of restless waiting.
Namea had given up pretending to drink her tea. The cup sat cold on the floor beside her, forgotten. She had pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, her eyes fixed on a crack in the wall. Every few minutes, her gaze would dart to the window. Then back to the crack. Then to the window again. A small, repetitive motion, like a bird checking for predators.
Lielle was awake now. She had stopped pretending to sleep when Serina's breathing changed faster, shallower. Serina was having a nightmare. Her fingers twitched against the floor. Her lips moved, forming silent words. Lielle placed a hand on her shoulder, but did not wake her. She just sat there, watching, her own face pale and tight.
Kaile had moved from the hallway to the corner near the bookshelf. He stood with his back to the wall, his arms crossed, his jaw set. But his hands were not relaxed. His fingers pressed into his own biceps, hard enough to leave marks. He was trying to look calm. He was failing.
They were all failing.
Rihan was the only one who moved with purpose. He had circled the house three times in the past hour, checking locks, peering through curtains, testing the back door. When he returned to the living room, his eyes met Alok's.
Nothing, he mouthed.
Alok nodded.
But neither of them believed it.
Agata woke suddenly.
Not with a scream. With a small, sharp gasp like someone surfacing from deep water.
She sat up on the couch, her blanket falling to her lap, her eyes wide and unfocused. Her chest rose and fell rapidly. She looked around the room, at the unfamiliar faces, at the dim light, at her brother sitting across from her.
"Alok?"
Her voice was small. Fragile.
Alok was beside her in an instant. He knelt in front of the couch, his hands hovering near her shoulders, not quite touching.
"I'm here."
She stared at him for a long moment. Then her face crumpled.
"I dreamed they took you too."
Her voice cracked. Tears spilled down her cheeks. She grabbed his arm with both hands, her grip surprisingly strong for someone so small.
"They were in the house. They were in your room. I couldn't ....I couldn't find you "
"I'm here," he said again. Softer this time. "I'm not going anywhere."
She buried her face against his shoulder.
The others looked away. Rihan turned to the window. Namea studied her hands. Lielle pulled Serina a little closer.
No one knew what to say.
Because none of them had been in that warehouse. None of them had seen what Agata had seen. None of them had felt the cold hands, heard the muffled screams, tasted the fear of being taken.
They could offer sympathy. They could not offer understanding.
And that distance small but absolute sat between them like a wall.
Agata did not let go of Alok's arm.
Even after her tears slowed, even after her breathing steadied, even after she finally looked up and saw the others watching her with careful, pitying eyes she did not let go.
"I want to go to your room," she said quietly.
Alok hesitated.
His room was small. Bare. A bed, a desk, a window that faced the alley. It was not a sanctuary. It was just a place where he slept when sleep came.
But Agata was looking at him with the eyes of a child who had been broken open and needed somewhere safe to hide.
"Okay," he said.
He helped her stand. She swayed slightly, still weak, still trembling. He kept his hand on her back as they walked toward the hallway.
Behind them, Rihan shifted. "Alok"
"I'll be back."
The words came out colder than he intended. He did not apologize.
The bedroom was dark.
Alok turned on the small lamp beside his bed. The light was weak, casting long shadows across the walls. Agata stood in the doorway for a moment, her eyes scanning the room like she was searching for threats.
Then she walked to the bed and sat down.
"You need to sleep," Alok said.
"I know."
But she made no move to lie down. Instead, she pulled her phone from her pocket. Her fingers trembled as she unlocked it.
"I need to call Mom."
Alok's jaw tightened. Their mother was not here. She had left two days ago for their aunt's house, a small town hours away. She was supposed to be resting. She was not supposed to be worried.
"It's late," he said carefully.
"I don't care."
Agata pressed the phone to her ear. Her eyes were wet again.
The line rang once. Twice. Three times.
Then a click.
"Agata? Baby, what's wrong?"
Their mother's voice was groggy, thick with sleep. But the moment she heard her daughter's breathing, the sleep vanished. Replaced by something sharper. Fear.
"Mom." Agata's voice broke. "I just I needed to hear your voice. Are you okay? Is everything okay?"
A pause.
"I'm fine," their mother said slowly. "I'm at Aunt's house. Everyone's fine. But Agata… what happened? You sound"
"Nothing. Nothing happened. I just had a bad dream."
The lie was thin. Fragile. Their mother did not believe it. Alok could hear it in her silence.
But she did not push.
"Okay, baby. It was just a dream. I'll be home in a few days. Try to sleep."
"I love you, Mom."
"I love you too. Put your brother on."
Agata lowered the phone and held it out to Alok. Her hand was still shaking.
He took it.
"Mom."
"Alok." Her voice was different now. Quieter. Harder. "What's going on?"
"Nothing."
"Don't lie to me."
He closed his eyes. The pendant pressed against his chest, cold and heavy.
"Agata had a nightmare," he said carefully. "She's still shaken. But she's safe. I'm here."
A long pause.
"You're hiding something."
"I'm protecting you."
The words came out before he could stop them. They hung in the air between them, raw and honest.
His mother was silent for a moment. Then:
"I'll be home tomorrow."
"Mom"
"I don't care what you say. I'll be home tomorrow."
The line went dead.
Alok stared at the phone for a moment, then handed it back to Agata.
She looked up at him. "She's coming home?"
"Yes."
"Because of me?"
"Because she's our mother."
Agata said nothing. She simply lay down on the bed, curling onto her side, her back against the wall. She did not ask him to stay. But she did not tell him to leave either.
Alok sat on the edge of the bed, his back against the headboard, his eyes on the door.
The room was quiet.
Too quiet.
He did not remember falling asleep.
But suddenly, he was no longer in his room.
He stood in an empty field. The sky above him was wrong too dark, no stars, no moon. The grass beneath his feet was dead, brittle, cracking with every step.
And someone was watching him.
A woman.
She stood at the edge of the field, her face hidden in shadow. Her dress was pale, almost glowing, and her hair moved despite the absence of wind.
Alok tried to speak. His mouth moved. No sound came out.
She stepped closer.
Her features remained blurred, like a photograph smeared by water. He could not see her eyes. He could not see her mouth. But he felt her gaze heavy, ancient, searching.
She spoke.
Her voice reached him in fragments. Broken pieces of a sentence that did not fit together.
"…chains… not yet…"
"…the blood remembers…"
"…do not trust the smile…"
Alok tried to move toward her. His legs would not obey.
She lifted her hand.
And then
She was gone.
The field crumbled. The sky cracked. Darkness swallowed everything.
Alok woke gasping.
His hand was on the pendant. It was burning hot.
Beside him, Agata stirred but did not wake. Her face was peaceful now. No nightmares. No tears.
Alok sat in the darkness, his heart pounding, the woman's voice still echoing in his skull.
Do not trust the smile.
He looked toward the door.
The others were still in the living room. He could hear their muffled voices, low and careful.
He could not see their faces.
He did not know if they were smiling.
POV SHIFT
In the living room, Namea stared at the hallway.
"He's been in there a long time," she whispered.
Rihan didn't look up. "He needs to rest."
"We all need to rest," Kaile said. His voice was tight. "But I can't stop thinking about what Darian said."
"Don't." Rihan's voice was sharp. "Don't start."
"I'm not starting anything. I'm just saying someone gave him information. Someone we know."
Lielle pulled her knees tighter to her chest. "It's not any of us."
"How do you know?"
Silence.
Serina finally opened her eyes. Her voice was hoarse. "Because we were there. We almost died in that labyrinth. We almost died fighting Extera. We almost died in the warehouse."
She looked at each of them slowly.
"Whoever betrayed us… wasn't there."
The words landed like stones.
Tira.
No one said her name. But everyone thought it.
And somewhere in the darkness outside, a phone screen glowed.
[Message Sent: Suspicion is shifting. They are isolating her without proof. Perfect.]
The screen went dark.
The night continued.