Perhaps I have.
“So, you really didn’t see anyone?” I ask.
“No,” she replies firmly. “ You just stopped walking, but I didn’t realize it until I couldn’t hear your footsteps.”
So, not only am I the only one to have seen her, but I am the only one of us to whom she delivered her ominous warning.
Either she’s a spirit messing with me or I’m going crazy.
“Maeva—”
I snap my attention back to Cara. “I’m fine,” I say, smiling weakly. “Forget I said anything. I must’ve imagined it.”
Sure… because you always imagine a woman with lavender eyes telling you that “They are coming.”
I’m just exhausted… That’s the only explanation for what just happened.
There wasn’t a strange woman or a weird warning.
“Truly, Cara,” I say, almost laughing. “I’m fine. I just need sleep.”
Though she still looks concerned, she drops the topic as we continue our journey home. She tells me about a bit of gossip that she heard in the market this morning. I try to pay attention, but I just can’t shake the emotions from the encounter with the woman. I want to forget about it all, but my mind keeps drifting back to some of her words that cause chills to crawl down my spine:
“There are worse things than the Drakhul that exist…”
“Hey! Give that back!”
“No way! It’s mine.”
“Mama, how much longer until supper is ready?”
“Boys! What did I tell you about…”
Sounds of chaos waft out from inside the home of the Cales. I wish I could say this isn’t a daily occurrence, but alas, it’s to be expected when there are nine people under one roof. It’s a madhouse in the best sense of the word. The two-story house is a beautiful wooden design that’s stained white with a multitude of tiny windows so that every person has a view of the rolling hills that surround us on the outskirts of the village.
Everything surrounding the Cales’ property appears rotten or dead, yet the beautiful white home stands in the center of it all, appearing as a haven for all those who pass by. It’s a true show of who they are as a people—a beacon to all those in need. Rolph and Amelia Cale built this house with their bare hands before they ever conceived their children.
While the house is a simple design, they built their home large enough to accommodate the family that they hoped to have in the future.“We knew from the start of our union that we desired to have multiple children, so why not make sure we could house a whole gaggle of them?”Rolph always remarks. Amelia usually nods her head in agreement with her husband. They truly love one another and each of their children dearly—including me.
“Ow! Mama, he pulled my hair!?”
“I did not! She started it! She was in my?—”
“I don’t care who started it. I’m ending it!”
Cara and I giggle as we approach the front entrance. From the sounds of it, the twins, Aidan and Cillian, are doing what typical fifteen-year-old boys do—picking on Deidre, their younger sister by two years. They tease her relentlessly, but Deidre usually ignores them, which only encourages them in their aggravation. Though they have a talent for infuriating the rest of the siblings, they both have sensitive hearts and are very protective of their sisters.
It has become a routine for us to stand outside the entrance, listening to their antics before entering what we call “the war zone.” We each lean on the door, attempting to stifle our amusement. The front door is a lovely lavender color, which Amelia insisted that Rolph paint as soon as the home was completed. Rolph, being the romantic man that he is, made sure that it was just the right shade for his bride.
Years ago, I asked Amelia why they chose to paint the door lavender. I found it quite odd as I had never seen a lavender door before… or at least I was pretty sure I hadn’t.She replied,“Simple. The first thing anyone sees of your home is usually the front entrance. I want everyone that comes to our home to know they are welcome here. I know it might seem silly because it’s just a door. However, for me, it’s a way to show a glimpse into the hearts of who we are as people.”I believe that was the moment I truly realized the kind of people my adopted family were—kind, loving, and welcoming.
“Home, sweet home,” I whisper to Cara.
“Do you think we should go in and relieve Mama?” she asks.
I look at her conspiratorially.
“I believe that’d be wise before twin-mageddon starts again,” I reply.