CHAPTER 14 : UNEXPECTED GUEST
546 Words
The sun hung lazily above the garden, casting soft golden rays that filtered through the treetops and danced on the stone floor. It was 2:53 PM. Amara sat quietly outside in the garden, a worn paperback open on her lap. The soft breeze occasionally flipped a page, but she didn’t mind. Her fingers clutched the cool glass of orange juice resting on the side table beside her. It was one of those rare calm afternoons where the mansion wasn’t hauntingly silent or too heavy with thoughts.
She wore a simple sundress ; light, soft, and easy on her skin. Her hair was pulled into a loose bun, a few strands falling around her face. It was one of those moments she was finally beginning to enjoy the silence. No stares from staff. No mysterious tension in the halls. No Zayn either.
Just her, her book, and the wind.
Then came the distant, soft rumble of tires on gravel.
She looked up slowly, her eyes narrowing slightly against the sun.
A sleek, luxurious red car glided onto the mansion’s long driveway ; smooth like it belonged in an elite showroom. It wasn’t Zayn’s car. She knew the cold black edge of his signature vehicle. This was different—flashier, louder in its own elegant way.
The engine purred to a stop at the opposite end of the driveway. For a moment, the car stood still, as though deciding if it truly belonged here. Then, the driver’s door opened.
First, a woman stepped out. Tall, graceful, and striking. Her jewelry sparkled under the sun. Her dress hugged her frame like it had been tailored by hand, and the way she adjusted her glasses made her look both intimidating and powerful.
Then, the passenger door opened.
A young woman stepped out ; perhaps Amara’s age or just a year older. She wore soft heels that clicked softly on the stones, and her black hair flowed down in waves. Her skin glowed, like she’d never had to worry about stress or late nights, and her lipstick was perfect—deep wine red. She wore elegance like perfume.
The two women began walking toward the mansion, chatting and giggling like they owned the place.
Amara’s book lowered unconsciously to her lap.
Her eyes followed them with silent curiosity, heart giving a strange thump.
Who are they?
Why didn’t anyone announce a guest?
They didn’t look like they were lost.
They didn’t look like people who asked for directions either.
As they approached, Amara noticed something strange. While the older woman didn’t even glance her way, the younger one did. Her sharp, almond-shaped eyes locked with Amara’s for just a second.
Then she smiled.
A bright, knowing smile.
And waved.
Amara blinked, confused. Her hands, without thinking, lifted and waved back—more out of instinct than friendliness.
The girl whispered something to the older woman, who didn’t turn. They continued into the house, the guards opening the door without hesitation.
Amara remained frozen for a moment.
The pages of her book fluttered.
Her orange juice still sat there, untouched.
But her mind wasn’t calm anymore.
Something had shifted.
And she could feel it in her bones.
Who were they?
And what storm did they just bring into her already complicated life?
- Writer
