Willow squeezed my hand. "We’re with you, Eve. You're not alone in this."
As I looked around the room, filled with ancient knowledge and hidden power, I felt a spark of hope. Maybe, just maybe, I could face this challenge head-on.
“Tell me what do we have to do?” I asked taking a deep breath, finding my courage.
“We will start from tomorrow, but you must know this, your journey is not going to be easy!” She warned me.
“I know, and I will go to beyond limits to fight him!” I reassured her.
Since then, complications only began to multiply.
When I arrived home, my mom was already there. I rushed toward her and embraced her tightly, expressing how much I had missed her. I planted a kiss on her cheek.
"I missed you too, baby!" she smiled. "Would you like to come in?" she asked Willow.
"I would love to, Mrs. Fernandez, but maybe another time. I have to get back before the lockdown," Willow excused herself.
"Lockdown?" Mom asked, clearly confused.
"Yes, lockdown! I'll explain everything inside. But for now, Willow needs to leave," I urgently expressed.
"Goodbye!" Willow started running.
I brought my mom inside and proceeded to explain everything to her. "Do you think this has something to do with... you know?" she left me puzzled.
"What do you mean?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
"You know, that dark one and all?" she finally said it.
"No that has nothing to do with it! Harry was not a nice guy. Someone must have had enough of him!" I shrugged.
"I'm not saying I'm happy he died, but you won't see me weeping either!" I smirked.
The next morning, I received a strange call that woke me up right away.
It was from Mr. Newton. "I want you to come and get Mr. Frost, he's waiting for you." he said.
"Me? Okay, I'm on my way. But why me?" I asked, feeling confused.
"Because I don't seem to trust his gathering. I tried calling Ms. Goldstein, but her phone is powered off," he explained. "Now, I need you to come here as fast as you can," he added, his voice filled with an unusual sense of urgency, as if he hadn't told me everything.
I hurried to the police station without informing anyone, and upon arrival, I greeted Vincent with an embrace.
He appeared to be relieved. Sheriff Newton then pulled me aside and spoke in a hushed tone.
"I typically don't involve kids like you in such matters, but I can sense your deep concern for him.
Vincent's safety is at risk, and I urge you to keep this information confidential. Don't ask how I know, I just know! and Vincent's family is currently out of town.
Your genuine worry that day made me reach out to you. I called Ms. Goldstein first but her phone was powered off.
Please, do not make me regret for placing my trust in you," he advised.
Meanwhile, Vincent had left the station and was waiting for me outside.
After my conversation with the Sheriff, I prepared to depart when I overheard two men conversing in low voices.
One of them mentioned, "I buried..." but he was interrupted by the other who reminded him to keep quiet.
"Shh! Lower your voice," he instructed.
"I mean, I personally took care of it, and I am completely certain. There's something Vincent is keeping from us!" the other man remarked. "Or perhaps he has betrayed us!"
“What’s done is done. Now it’s best if Vincent keeps his mouth shut,” one of the men said in a low, evil tone.
“I’ll make sure of it!” the other one cackled.
“Then we don’t have to worry about anything,” the second man replied confidently.
My heart pounded as I listened, shocked and frightened by their words. I took a step back, my elbow striking a coat hanger and sending it crashing to the floor. The noise was deafening in the tense silence and it caught their attention.
Panic surged through me. Without wasting a second to pick up the coat hanger, I rushed out of the police station and grabbed Vincent’s hand. “Come quick!” I urged, my voice filled with urgency.
We began to run, our footsteps echoing in the quiet streets.
“What happened?” Vincent panted, but I didn’t have time to explain.
Glancing back, I saw two men chasing us. One wore a red hoodie, the other a blue leather jacket with a beanie. Both had pulled black turtlenecks up to cover their faces.
We were on a distance so they couldn't possibly see my face.
We darted into a narrow lane, my mind racing for an escape plan. I tugged Vincent into another alleyway, hoping to lose our pursuers in the maze of streets.
“Can you please tell me what’s going on?” Vincent whispered, frustration and fear in his voice.
I pressed my hand over his mouth, our breaths heavy and erratic in the confined space.
I was terrified while he was gazing me peacefully.
Then he was pulled out of his thoughts as we heard the sound of running feet—our pursuers had followed us into the first lane but didn't turn where we were hiding. The footsteps faded, and I let out a shaky breath.
“We need to move,” I whispered urgently. We slipped through another side street, making our way toward the school where Vincent had parked his bike that day when he was arrested.
Every shadow felt threatening, every sound echoed in the silence.
Finally, we reached the school. Vincent retrieved his bike, his eyes filled with questions. “What happened?” he asked again, his voice more insistent this time.
“I overheard two men in the police station. They were talking about you. They said they needed to keep you quiet, and they sounded serious.
One of them mentioned something about burying, which makes me think they’re involved in whatever happened at the funeral,” I explained quickly, glancing around nervously.
"You are right"! Vincent’s face turned pale, and he nodded grimly.