Chapter 15
1006 Words
Shantali paused, hand on the heavy glass door. Part of her was curious, but the larger part recognised this as another test of her commitment to moving forward.
"Maybe someday," she said finally. "But not today. Today I'm choosing to live in the mystery rather than solve it."
Dr Hassan nodded approvingly. "Dr Thorne would have been proud of that answer."
Outside, the October wind scattered leaves across the museum steps. David pulled Shantali close as they descended toward the street, the familiar weight of his arm around her shoulders grounding her in the present moment.
"How do you feel?" he asked as they reached the sidewalk.
"Free," she answered, surprising herself with the truth of it. "Like I've finally closed a chapter I didn't realise was still open."
That evening, in their apartment-to-be, they'd gotten the keys early and spent the afternoon measuring for furniture. Shantali sat cross-legged on the hardwood floor with her laptop, the cobra statue watching from its new perch on the built-in shelves. The story she'd begun about Imogen flowed more easily now, informed by Dr Hassan's revelations but transformed into something larger than documentation.
"How's the writing going?" David asked, settling beside her with two mugs of tea.
"It's becoming something different from what I planned," she said, accepting the warm ceramic gratefully. "Less about the supernatural experience itself and more about the choice that comes after. The decision to trust love over fear."
David read over her shoulder as she typed. *The cobra had shown Imogen glimpses of possible futures, but in the end, the visions mattered less than the courage to embrace uncertainty alongside someone who loved her completely.*
"That's beautiful," he murmured against her ear. "And true."
Shantali saved the document and closed the laptop, setting it aside to focus on the man beside her. Through the windows of their new home, city lights twinkled like earthbound stars, and the future stretched ahead of them, unknown but no longer frightening.
"I love you," she said simply.
"I love you too." David's kiss tasted like chamomile tea and promises. "Ready to start our new life, Mrs Chen-to-be?"
"More than ready," she whispered back, and meant it completely. ”I think it's time we make some memories in our new bedroom.” Her eyes were turning dark with need.
David's eyes darkened to match hers, his breath catching at the invitation in her voice. "I was hoping you'd say that," he murmured, pulling her closer on the empty hardwood floor of their new bedroom.
The late afternoon light filtered through bare windows, casting golden rectangles across their bodies as they moved together with the unhurried passion of two people who had chosen each other completely. No visions flickered behind Shantali's closed eyes now, only the present reality of David's hands tracing patterns of devotion across her skin, his whispered endearments more prophetic than any ancient smoke.
Later, wrapped in the blanket they'd brought from David's apartment, they lay on the floor watching shadows lengthen across their empty home. The cobra statue was visible through the bedroom doorway, its amber eyes catching the fading light from the living room shelf.
"Thank you," Shantali said softly.
"For what?" David's fingers combed lazily through her hair.
"For being patient with me. For not letting me disappear into obsession." She turned in his arms to face him. "For choosing to see the cobra too, so I didn't have to carry it alone."
"Maybe the cobra knew I needed to witness it," David replied thoughtfully. "To understand what you were going through, to be the right partner for you in that moment."
The idea settled between them with comfortable weight. Perhaps the ancient magic had been more complex than either realised, not just showing possible futures, but ensuring the right people were present to help navigate them.
"I should call Elena back," Shantali said, remembering her friend's messages. "She's been incredibly patient, but I owe her an explanation."
"What will you tell her?"
Shantali considered this, watching dust motes dance in the slanted sunlight. "The truth, I think. That I went through something that helped me understand what I really wanted. She doesn't need the supernatural details."
David nodded, understanding. "Some stories are meant for certain audiences."
"Exactly." Shantali sat up, reaching for her phone. "Though I suspect my novel will find its way to the people who need to read it."
As if summoned by their conversation, her phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number: *Ms. Cross, this is Maria Santos from the night shift. Garcia gave me your number. I've been experiencing some unusual phenomena in the Egyptian wing. Could we talk?*
Shantali stared at the message, feeling the familiar pull of mystery and the need to help someone who might be standing in the same place she had just days ago. She showed the text to David, who read it with raised eyebrows.
"Another one," he said simply.
"Looks like it." Shantali typed a careful response: *I'd be happy to talk, but not about research or investigation. Are you at a crossroads in your life right now?*
The reply came quickly: *How did you know? I've been trying to decide whether to take a promotion that would mean moving across the country, leaving my boyfriend behind. I'm so confused and scared of making the wrong choice.*
Shantali looked at David, seeing her own understanding reflected in his eyes. "She needs guidance, not research collaboration."
"What will you tell her?"
Shantali considered carefully before typing: *The most important thing to understand is that what you're experiencing isn't about predicting the future, it's about helping you see what you truly value. Don't try to control or analyse the visions. Instead, ask yourself what choice would let you live without regret, surrounded by love rather than achievements alone.*
She paused, then added: *If you'd like to talk in person, I'm happy to meet for coffee. But I won't discuss the supernatural aspects. I'll only share what I learned about making difficult decisions.*
- Writer
