Minutes later, Anita was back in the apartment, doing the dishes.
She had just escorted Edward out of the building not too long ago. By then, the sun had already dipped below the horizon, and darkness had begun to slowly sweep in from the east, spreading like ink across the sky.
As she scrubbed at the plates, her mind wandered-troubled by thoughts she had kept to herself while Edward was still around. He'd already been through enough lately. He was holding it together by a thread, and she didn't want to be the reason he finally snapped.
She glanced over her shoulder at her brother lounging in the living room, eyes narrowing with suspicion. Jesse was hiding something. She could feel it. He and their mother both.
Oblivious to his sister's scrutiny, Jesse was lost in laughter, howling at the Instagram videos on his phone. His right hand clutched his ribs while his left wiped away tears of hilarity.
Anita rolled her eyes. Typical Jesse.
She turned back to the sink, rinsed the last plate, and placed it on the rack.
Done.
Wiping her hands on the apron she wore, she pulled it off and hung it neatly on the hook beside the sink.
Time to study, she thought.
But then... she paused.
Leaning back against the worktop, she hesitated. Should she go ask her mother? Or just let it go?
She decided to ask.
Heading toward her room, Anita found the door slightly ajar.
She leaned in to peek, trying to see if her mother was busy, but the gap was too narrow.
Just as she reached out to quietly nudge it open, her mother's voice cut through the silence.
"I know you're there, Anita," Jenevive called out calmly. "Why don't you come in?"
Anita froze.
Her heart skipped a beat. Her eyes widened in shock.
She held her breath-instinctively. Then let it out slowly as realization hit.
How did she know?
Oh... right. Magic. Of course. Her mother must've sensed her presence.
She slapped her forehead softly in embarrassment. Why do I keep forgetting my family's supernatural?
But deep down, she knew why.
She often forgot she was a witch herself-not because she didn't use her powers, but because she hated what she was. Hated being supernatural. Hated the idea of being special by unnatural means.
She longed to just be a normal, sassy girl living a regular life.
That's why none of her best friends had known the truth-at least, not until yesterday.
---------
Anita never wanted her friends to know that she was a witch. Never saw a reason for them to. It's not like she practiced magic anymore.
But...
The second Edward got entangled with the supernatural-ever since he sent that terrifying text-she knew it was only a matter of time before the truth clawed its way out.
The wild, feral cat scratching at the bag had to be let out eventually.
That night, the text had horrified her. She couldn't bring herself to reply. She didn't want to ask questions.
The next morning, Mdachi had seen it.
After reading the message, he texted her immediately:
"Did you get this too?"
She replied yes.
"What do you think it means?" he asked.
She lied. Told him she thought it was a prank. That she hadn't taken it seriously.
"So you haven't asked him?" he asked, clearly surprised.
He had expected her to. The message was too strange to ignore. It didn't make sense.
At least, not to him.
She claimed it didn't seem urgent. That she brushed it off.
Mdachi wasn't buying it completely. He wanted to text Edward and ask-but something held him back.
Instead, he suggested they go see Edward in person.
"It'd be better if he told us to our faces," he said.
Deep down, Mdachi didn't think it was a joke. Sure, Edward had his moments, but this went beyond that. He'd told them that there was some shitty things going on at home the day before. Maybe... this was what he meant?
Still, Mdachi tried to shut out any thoughts of supernatural involvement. That idea was too much to entertain.
"This is just... inexplicable," he muttered.
On the way to Edward's house, Anita's heart beat like a war drum. She tried to keep a calm face, masking her dread behind concern. Mdachi, on the other hand, looked more confused than scared. He didn't say much, just sat deep in thought.
That silence made Anita even more uneasy.
When they arrived and found the house empty, Mdachi looked disappointed.
Anita, secretly, was relieved.
She didn't show it though.
Mdachi seemed ready to believe it was a prank just like Anita already had. And eventually, he did.
But he didn't let it go.
He called. Edward didn't pick up.
So he texted: "Let's meet tomorrow at our spot in school. We need to talk."
Still, Mdachi had a nagging feeling-like something deeper was going on. Anita shared the same feeling.
The next day, when Edward didn't show up as expected, Anita's worry returned.
What if it was true? What if it wasn't a prank and something had actually happened to him?
But just when panic began to settle in, they saw Edward rush into class.
Later, as she walked to her own classroom, her relief twisted into something else-anger.
She had worried for nothing. He had pranked them. And then, to make it worse, he'd stood them up. Again!
But then, Anita had softened when she realized Edward's memories might have been erased. With no other choice, she had to tell her friends the truth about herself — about being a witch — if Edward was ever going to get help.
When she approached her mother for assistance, she'd expected Jenevive to flip at the revelation.
But nothing.
She had taken it surprisingly well. Handled the situation with calculated calm.
She and Jesse both.
So… after discovering that one of her best friends was actually a powerful warlock — and yes, powerful wasn't an exaggeration — Anita found herself confused. Not just by Edward's situation, but by how unshaken her family had been.
Maybe Edward and Mdachi had been too overwhelmed to notice. But she had. Something wasn't adding up.
And to top it off, just about two hours ago, when Edward came back to request help figuring out the origin of his powers, her mother and brother had received him almost like they'd expected it. As if none of it was a surprise.
"But why? Why are they acting so strangely? And why am I the only one noticing?" Anita had wondered.
---------
After hesitating for a few more seconds, her mind whirling with questions and thoughts, Anita finally walked in.
"Anita?" Jenevive happened to call out at that very moment Anita stepped into view. She was already leaning forward, trying to peek through the door's narrow opening, her neck stretching to see.
When her eyes landed on Anita, Jenevive relaxed, settling calmly back against the cushioned headboard.
Anita stepped in but didn't move any closer. She stopped just before the door, arms folded tightly across her chest, her expression grim and guarded.
She didn't want to come any closer. Not right now.
She was angry. She knew her mother was hiding something.
Jenevive immediately picked up on her daughter's mood. She knew Anita too well. This was how she always acted when she was frustrated and deeply unsettled.
Concerned, Jenevive set her laptop aside and began to rise from the bed.
But Anita raised her hand to stop her.
"Just sit, Mom," she said, voice firm, her face still tense with a frown.
Jenevive obeyed, eyes searching her daughter's face for answers.
"Hey… what's wrong, baby? Why are you so upset all of a sudden?" she asked gently.
"Tell me the truth, Mom," Anita began, her voice low but weighted.
"About what?" Jenevive asked, brow furrowing slightly with both confusion and concern.
Silence.
Anita swallowed. Then, gathering her courage, she said:
"Tell me what you really know about Edward's situation. What haven't you been telling me?"
Jenevive looked taken aback. "What do you mean?" she asked slowly.
Then… realization hit her. It spread across her face like a storm cloud.
"Oh…" she whispered. "You think I have something to do with this?"
Her voice cracked a little, as if the accusation hurt.
"Why would you?" she added softly, almost defensively.
Anita's arms dropped in shock, her frustration giving way to concern. Her face softened, eyes wide.
"No! Of course not!" she said quickly, shaken by her mother's interpretation. "Why would you think that?"
Her voice trembled now. There was pain in it. Pain that her own mother would believe she thought of her that way.
Does she really believe that's how I see her? Anita wondered, devastated.
Tears welled up in Jenevive's eyes.
"Because you think of me as a monster?" she whispered, her voice thick with sorrow.
"What?!" Anita gasped. She was stunned. And heartbroken.
"Come on, baby," Jenevive continued, two tears slipping down her cheeks. "This wouldn't be the first time."
She gave a brittle, painful smile. "I know you suspected me... back then. Eight years ago. Before we found out it was your father who committed that heinous act."
She wiped the tears from her face, her expression now hard but wounded.
Anita stared at her, stunned. Her mouth hung slightly open in disbelief.
All this time… she knew? Anita's thoughts spun.
"A–a… I'm sorry, Mom," she choked out, tears forming in her eyes now too. "I didn't mean to doubt you back then. I was stupid. I'm really, really sorry."
Thinking about the past — about that time — was always excruciating. And hearing her mother bring it up again tore the wounds wide open.
But Anita pushed the memories aside and forced herself to press on.
"I know what I did was wrong, Mom. And if it'll make you feel any better, I'll spend the rest of my life apologizing."
She took a breath, steeling herself.
"But… that's not what I'm talking about."
Jenevive's face, which had been so tense, softened at her daughter's words. At her sincerity.
"You don't need to do that, baby," she said quietly. "It's okay. I was hurt at the time, yes… but you're not to blame. You were just a child. It's your father who should carry that blame."
Anita's jaw clenched. Her muscles tensed at the mention of her father. That name still poisoned her thoughts.
"Please don't say any more, Mom," she whispered.
But it was too late.
The memories hit her like a tidal wave, flooding her mind with images and voices she had fought so hard to bury.
She trembled. Her knees gave out.
And without even realizing it, she collapsed to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably.
"Please don't…" she cried. "Please don't, Mom…"
She was spiraling now, sinking into a storm of guilt and pain — memories of betrayal, of naivety, of blind trust shattered by the very man she once saw as a god.
The guilt burned through her, slow and corrosive like acid. She couldn't take it anymore.
Jenevive rushed to her side, alarmed, and gently lifted her daughter into her arms.
"Now, now, baby," she whispered, holding her tightly. "Calm down. Mommy's here. Mommy's so sorry."
She carried her gently to the bed and sat down with her, hugging her close. Her own tears slid down silently, though she tried to stay composed.
Anita clung to her mother, burying her face in her chest as she sobbed.
"I'm really sorry, Mom," she muttered between the tears.
"Hush, my beautiful girl," Jenevive whispered, rubbing her back gently. "It's not your fault. It's mine. I should have protected you back then. And I shouldn't have reminded you of those memories now. I'm sorry, baby. So sorry."
Then, as Jenevive glanced toward the doorway, she was surprised to see Jesse standing there, quiet and hesitant.
He watched them from the doorway with a melancholic expression, his face shadowed by something more than just sympathy — a deeper pain he couldn't yet name.
A sad smile spread across Jenevive's face. Then, with Anita still clinging to her, she opened her arms and softly beckoned to Jesse.
He came — rushing in without hesitation, crawling hurriedly onto the bed. When he reached them, he joined the embrace, hugging Anita from behind. He didn't need an explanation. He had stood at the door long enough to understand what was happening.
Jenevive then encircled both her children in her arms, like a mother bird shielding her chicks beneath her wings. Her head rested on Jesse's, whose head lay gently against Anita's.
Feeling her brother's presence, Anita untangled one of her arms and wrapped it around him in return.
They stayed like that — somber, warm, still. The silence was only broken by Anita's quiet sniffles.
"I love you, my babies. So, so much," Jenevive said suddenly, her voice soft but brimming with emotion. "Don't ever forget that."
Anita pulled away from the embrace just enough to look at both of them. Her eyes shimmered with gratitude, a tender smile spreading across her tear-streaked face.
Wiping her cheeks, she replied, "I love you too, guys. So much."
"What do you want me to say now? Huh?" Jesse piped up, feigning exasperation. "That I love you three? Come on, ladies — why so schmaltzy?"
Then he smirked. "Anyway… I very much don't not hate you, okay?"
Jenevive and Anita laughed softly, their chuckles mixing with the warm air of the room.
Jesse grinned, proud of his successful mood-lift.
"You two are the oceans and the atmosphere of my world," Jenevive began again. "Without you, it's just some huge, scorching, dry planet. Without you, I have no meaning. So promise me — promise me that not even the universe will tear us apart. That we'll always stick together, with bonds stronger than covalent bonds."
"I promise," Anita and Jesse said in perfect unison — and they all fell back into each other's arms.
"What is a covalent bond though?" Jesse asked, puzzled.
Still wrapped in the hug, the two ladies giggled.
"You'll learn in high school," Anita told him, teasing. "And believe me… it's not just the bonds that are strong. It's the struggle to understand them too."
"Ohh," Jesse sighed. "I better brace myself, then."
Jenevive chuckled. Then she tilted her head and asked gently, "Now, what was it you were accusing me of keeping from you again?"
The hug loosened as everyone sat up slightly. Anita, now calmer and back to her usual sharp self, crossed her arms sassily and responded. "What you two know about Edward's case and not telling me."
Mother and son reacted at the same time.
"Huh?" Jenevive said while looking puzzled.
"Us two?" Jesse repeated. Inquisitively.
"What do you mean by 'huh,' Mom?" she said dramatically. "You think I haven't noticed how you react every time something about Edward comes up? You never have questions. You just… jump to action. And since I know you, I know that's weird. You always have questions when it comes to alarming stuff. Especially supernatural stuff."
Then she turned to Jesse. "And you, young chubby cutie. Same applies to you. And I confirmed it earlier with your reaction to Mjawi Machani—"
"Mchawi Majani," Jenevive corrected gently.
"Yeah, that," Anita waved off.
Both mother and son looked like they'd been caught red-handed.
They exchanged glances, then turned to face Anita again — their expressions blank and unconvincing.
"What?" Anita asked, her voice anxious.
"We did know," Jenevive admitted finally. "Both times. Before you told us."
"What?!" Anita gasped. "How? When? How… Wait — I already asked that! Why didn't you tell me? And how did you even find out?"
"Well…" Jenevive began slowly. "It started a few months ago. Remember that evening I took you, your brother, and your friends to the movie theatre? That night… I felt something. Something off."
She paused.
"I didn't know what it was exactly — but it came from Edward. It was unreadable. Unnatural. And it couldn't be ignored. So… I planted a spell."
"A spell?" Anita's eyes widened.
Jenevive nodded. "A spell that lets me sort of… eavesdrop. Not always, just when certain supernatural words or energies are triggered."
"You did what?" Anita nearly shouted, turning to Jesse. "And you knew?!"
"Only laterwards," Jesse said with a shrug, trying to appear innocent.
"Okay," Anita huffed. "So where did you plant it?"
Jenevive smiled slyly. "Somewhere you carry with you nearly all the time."
Anita looked up in thought, fingers scratching her chin as she puzzled over it.
"Your phone case, dummy," Jesse chimed in.
"Oh… right," Anita mumbled, nodding in realization. "That makes sense. I really do carry that phone everywhere."
"So how does it work?" she asked. "What happened next? What did you do with what you found out? And why didn't you tell me?" She exhaled all her questions in one breath.
"Well," Jenevive replied, "the spell is triggered by certain keywords — anything 'unusual.' When it activates, I hear conversations through it. Believe me, I haven't always heard the most… appropriate things."
Her gaze narrowed playfully.
"Apparently, you and your girlfriends really like some 'hot' actors in that vampire series."
Jesse's jaw dropped dramatically as he gasped. "Anita!"
He looked at her with mock horror, clearly enjoying every second.
Anita flushed beet red and turned away, mortified. Why did she have to say that in front of him?!
"Anyway," Jenevive continued, amused, "that's what happens when a spell doesn't know how to filter out real supernatural mentions from fake ones."
She composed herself again. "After that day, the strange energy from Edward disappeared. Just… gone. I started thinking maybe it had been a fluke. But then yesterday, when you three talked about his memory being erased, the weight of that conversation made everything click again."
She smiled. "And by the way… you made me proud with that mean girl. What was her name? Natasha? I heard that too."
Anita giggled, blushing again. She and her mom clapped dramatically, almost girlishly.
Jesse groaned. "Such drama queens. Always hungry for drama," he muttered.
When the laughter faded, Jenevive grew serious again.
"So when you all came here, we already had a gist of what it might be about. We just didn't know how it would unfold — or that you'd expose your identity like that."
She looked into Anita's eyes.
"I didn't tell you because I know you're not a fan of this supernatural life. I was trying to protect you — all of you. You, Jesse, your friends. I knew you wouldn't stop if I asked. Especially Edward. And I get it."
She sighed.
"But I would never expose you to danger. That's why I've been doing my own private investigation into all of this. I didn't even tell Jesse. That's why I didn't say anything about Mr. Hallington."
Anita's breath hitched.
"Because that's how scary this can get, sweetheart. And worse. I wanted to figure everything out on my own… then stop whoever's behind it."
"You knew about Hallington?" Jesse asked, voice laced with hurt.
"Yes, honey," Jenevive answered gently. "But I couldn't tell either of you. I don't tell you everything, Jesse — and that's because I'm your mother. You're still a child. I didn't want you or your sister involved."
She turned to Anita.
"And tell Edward I send my sincere condolences. I didn't mention it earlier… because it would've raised suspicion."
Anita listened in silence — and then suddenly lunged forward, hugging her mother tightly.
The force knocked Jenevive backward onto the bed, but she didn't care. She held her daughter close.
Anita now understood. She didn't agree with everything her mother had done — but she understood.
And in that moment, that was enough.
Jesse dove in again, wrapping his arms around them both. Jenevive welcomed him in, holding them both tightly.
In silence.
"Mom," Jesse suddenly said. "I forgot to tell you something incredible about Edward that we just discovered recently. You know his—"
"Hush now, honey," Jenevive cut him off, smiling softly. "You'll tell me later. Let me just… relish this moment a little longer."
He nodded.
And the room fell quiet once again — peaceful and whole.