It Will Come Back

Eyes

“Care to explain what the hell that was back there?” I snap, my voice sharper than intended as I stalk through Jake’s house, eyes darting around for anything—anything—that might give us answers. My hands brush against dusty shelves and scattered books as I search, while Levi glances at Ravi, his brows furrowed.

“What? Explain what?” Ravi mumbles, his tone flat, as if he doesn’t already know what I’m talking about.

I narrow my eyes, stepping closer. “Seriously? Your eyes turned black, Ravi. Black as the freaking night. Do you know how much you freaked me out?” My voice shakes just a little, and I clench my fists to steady myself.

Levi steps in, nodding. “Yeah, man, I saw it too. You can’t just act like that’s normal!”

Ravi shrugs like we’re discussing the weather, rolling his eyes in the process. “It could’ve been… I don’t know, high blood sugar or something?” His voice is nonchalant, like he hasn’t just scared the life out of us.

I cross my arms, leveling him with a glare. “Rav, come on. You’re like my gay, platonic soulmate. Don’t insult my intelligence. I know that line is straight out of Twilight.”

He smirks, tilting his head. “Technically, you’re wrong. It’s a misquote. Pretty sure Edwardo—sorry, Edward—calls it an adrenaline rush. Nice try, though.”

I roll my eyes, turning away from him to focus on Levi. “Find anything yet?” I ask, hoping to steer the conversation toward something useful.

Levi shakes his head, glancing around the room. “Not really, unless you count the fact that Jake’s dad has a weird obsession with Strawberry Shortcake. Kind of unsettling, actually.”

I snort, though the tension doesn’t leave my chest. “Weirdo,” I mutter, running a hand through my hair.

Ravi, ever the opportunist, perks up. “Wait, seriously? You didn’t see the P-hub video where Strawberry Shortcake likes a side of cre—”

“Ravi!” I snap, slapping his arm before he can finish. Levi bursts into laughter, shaking his head.

“Pervs,” I mutter, glaring at both of them. “That’s a kids’ show. Does everything have to be sexualized?”

Ravi shrugs unapologetically. “Hey, I do, and it’s part of who I am.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “What, being gay?”

Levi stifles a laugh, watching the exchange like it’s a spectator sport.

“No,” Ravi says, crossing his arms defensively. “It’s something you wouldn’t understand. You’re too immature.”

I smirk, tilting my head. “Oh, I get it.”

Ravi sighs dramatically, cutting me off before I can say more. “Here comes Snarky Lux in five, four, three—”

“You’re an asshole,” I interrupt, flipping him the bird as Levi snickers from the sidelines.

“Umm, guys?” Levi tries to cut in, but we ignore him.

“Yeah, well,” Ravi says, his voice dripping with mockery, “I wish you had better taste in men. You’re interested in nobody, and it’s honestly tragic.”

My stomach twists for a moment as Ash’s face flickers in my mind like a ghost. I shove the thought aside, focusing on Ravi’s smug expression. “Guys!” Levi says again, his voice sharper now.

But Ravi’s not done. “Do you have to be such a prima donna all the time? Seriously, you’re living up to the stereotype.”

“GUYS!” Levi finally shouts, startling us both into silence.

“What?” I grumble, shooting him an annoyed look.

“Geez, you don’t have to yell,” Ravi adds, rubbing his ear for effect.

Levi glares at us, exasperated. “You two are impossible. Focus. Didn’t you say you saw Jake’s mom standing over him?”

“Yeah,” I say cautiously, my earlier frustration giving way to curiosity. “Why?”

Levi gestures for us to follow him, his movements hurried. “Come look at this.”

We step closer, leaning over a small table. There, nestled among dusty knick-knacks, is a silver urn engraved with delicate purple flowers. My stomach churns as I read the inscription aloud: “In memory of Lucille Domen: Loving wife, caregiver, and mother.”

A shiver runs down my spine, raising goosebumps along my arms. “Wait…” My voice falters. “Lucille Domen? That’s Jake’s mom, right?”

Levi nods grimly. “Keep reading. Check the plaque next to it.”

I swallow hard, leaning in. The words are written in Jake’s unmistakable handwriting.

“I love and miss you, Mom. Fly high.

Love, Jake.”

“Holy f**k,” Ravi breathes, his voice barely above a whisper.

The three of us exchange uneasy glances, the weight of the discovery settling over us like a storm cloud.