Chapter 3 - Shadows in the Mirror
796 Words
It's weird how the tiniest things can make you wonder about everything: a half-uttered sentence, a sidelong glance, or, for me, an innocuous delivery.
It started with a package. A sleek black box wrapped in satin ribbon, left on the front porch early that morning. I noticed it while sipping my coffee, the aroma of freshly brewed beans doing little to settle the unease that had taken root in my life.
There was no one else's name on the note when I picked it up. Mine is scrawled across it, in bold, unfamiliar writing on the tag.
"Ah, Akira, is that yours?" my mom appeared behind me.
"Well," I said, running my fingers over the ribbon. "Apparently."
"Who is it from?"
"No idea."
"Well, open it!"
The box felt heavier than it looked. I untied the ribbon and lifted the lid, revealing a silk scarf. It was crimson red with intricate golden embroidery—a beautiful, expensive gift. Yet my stomach churned as I pulled out the small card tucked beneath it.
"To new beginnings."
No signature. No explanation.
"How cryptic," my mom said, peering over my shoulder. "Is it from Kian?"
"I don't think so," I said, my voice fading away. Kian wasn't the sort of person to send something as impersonal as this, not even as a surprise.
That afternoon, I ended up in the garden with Naira. She was sitting on the swing, scrolling through her phone while I played over this morning's events in my head.
"You're very quiet today," she said, not looking up.
"I got a weird gift," I said, resting against the stone railing.
"Oh? From lover boy?"
"No. It was anonymous."
She looked up at me then, her frown almost invisible as she covered it with a laugh.
"Anonymous? That's. creepy. What was it?"
"A scarf and a note. Something about 'new beginnings.'"
Her expression changed for a fleeting moment before she said, "Well, maybe it's some weird wedding tradition I don't know about. You rich folks have all sorts of eccentric customs."
I laughed stiffly, but her offhand tone didn't sit right with me.
That afternoon, Kian arrived without warning, a trait of his that I had once been charmed by. Now, it felt like he was playing a role.
"Did you miss me?" he asked, slouching against the door frame.
"Shouldn't you be at work?" I joked, folding my arms across my chest.
He chuckled. "I couldn't resist stealing a moment with my fiancée. And also, I wanted to see how you were doing. You have seemed. Distracted lately."
I felt the pause. Should I say something about the scarf? Some part of me didn't want to.
"I'm fine," I said, moving past him to enter the living room. "Just wedding jitters."
He followed me, brushing his hand against mine. "You know you can tell me anything, right?"
I turned toward him, trying to see behind his eyes, the glimmer of the man I'd thought I knew. "Of course."
He touched his lips to my forehead, the soft kiss lingering there as though sealing a promise. "Good. Because I'll always take care of you, Akira. Always."
That night, I found myself in Zev's study. I hadn't gone there with a purpose; it had just been a sanctuary of sorts, where the noise of my life couldn't follow.
"Lost again?" he asked without looking up from his book.
"Something like that," I said, settling into the chair opposite him.
"What's on your mind?"
I hesitated. Zev had a way of piercing through me, but this time, I wasn't sure how much I wanted to let him see.
"I got an anonymous gift today," I said finally.
He raised an eyebrow. "Go on."
"It was a scarf. And a note about 'new beginnings.'"
Zev set his book down, his expression sharpening. "Did it come with any other clues?"
"No. Just the scarf and the note."
"Have you told anyone else?"
"Naira knows. And Mom saw the box when it arrived."
He leaned back, fingers steepled under his chin. "You think it's harmless, don't you?"
"Shouldn't I?"
Zev let out a heavy sigh, the quiet intensity of his voice tinged with a low edge. "Akira, sometimes the smallest gestures can be the loudest warnings. Be careful who you trust."
Looking back, I should have pressed Zev to explain. Instead, I brushed it off as his usual overprotectiveness.
That night, while lying on the bed, I found my attention drawn to a scarf dropped on a chair. It was so beautiful; it appeared so out of place in my fabric of life.
I started to see that everything that I considered normal and real was like a house of cards.
And I was smack in the middle of it all.
- Writer
