Impossible

Avaris' POV

A chill ran through the air as Lord Callum stepped inside.

I had pushed myself to settle in, to see this place as real, as something that belonged to me, all day.

And now, with just a single presence, it felt like I was being dragged back to something I had spent days trying to forget.

"You have no reason to be here," I said, gripping the keys in my hand so tightly they left marks against my palm.

Unfazed, Callum stepped forward again, his keen eyes darting over the shelves, the neatly stacked perfume bottles, the delicate, fragile room I had created. He let out a low, almost amused laugh.

"It seems you’ve come to your senses, my boy," he said. "Your parents would be so proud."

It made my stomach turn.

It was a planned move,he always did this. He tested how deeply he could drive words before I reacted, picking them out like knives.

I spoke without emotion, but my fingernails dug into my palm as I said, "If you are here to stir up old memories, thinking it will affect me, do not even go there."

The only thing he did was smile, that knowing, annoying smile. "Memories?" His tone was light, mocking. "Avaris, I only meant it as a compliment."

Liar.

"Say whatever it is you came to say and leave."

Callum tilted his head slightly, considering. "Have you heard anything about Dyvian?"

I knew the question was coming. I still wasn’t prepared for it.

I resisted showing it, but something cold settled in my chest. Rather, I chuckled sharply and resentfully. I uttered the words, "As you can see, you were right about the two males being in love," with some sarcasm. "It never ends well."

Callum examined me closely, not out of sympathy, he was not that kind, but rather with a sense of satisfaction. Like he had expected this outcome, like he had been waiting for the moment I’d realize the truth.

"Good," he murmured. "Maybe now, you’ll stop wasting your time on demons."

There it was. The real reason he was here.

I should have ignored him. Told him to get out and never come back. But something about the way he stood there, so sure of himself, made my blood burn.

I scoffed. "And why does it matter to you? Last I checked, you didn’t give a damn about what I wasted my time on."

Callum's face became gloomy. "Because you’re a fool," he said, amusement no longer in his voice. "You think this..." he said, gesturing hazily at me and the store, "... is a new beginning? That you pulled yourself out of your past and built something new? You’re delusional."

I went rigid, my pulse hammering. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Callum let out a sigh and wiped his face as though he was worn out by my ignorance. Then he looked at me, I realized he wasn’t here just to taunt me.

He was serious.

"Your parents," he uttered, his voice heavier and lower now. "They didn’t just die, Avaris. We all know that they were murdered, but what if there are many more stories surrounding their death?" He pointed to me, smiling. "And it has something to do with you? 

As if he wanted me to observe, he reached into his coat. From the inside pocket, he pulled out three worn leather-bound books, stacked neatly in his palm. The sight of them made my breath catch.

It wasn't just any books. They are diaries.

When I saw the recognizable design engraved on their covers, my stomach grew painfully tight.

No. It wasn’t possible.

One was a deep burgundy. Another a muted blue. The final one was a faded green with frayed edges from years of use.

I knew these books.

Everyone in my family had one, identical in design but different in color. It was tradition. A place to write down ideas, experiences, and secrets.

These belonged to my parents. And my brother.

My throat dried as Callum lifted the green diary from the stack and held it out to me. "This one’s yours, isn’t it?" He had a smooth voice with a deeper undertone. "Or rather, it belonged to your brother. I imagine you'd recognize it."

I didn’t take it. I kept my hands by my sides, unwilling to extend them.

"Where did you get those?" My voice came out hoarse.

Callum grinned, but it was a cold smile. "Avaris, for once in your life, stop being a coward and open your eyes. Your family didn't just die. They were murdered. And it wasn't who you think."

I was not ready for the force with which the words struck me.

Murdered. Not by who I thought.

A nagging feeling ran up my back.

I had spent months convinced I knew who had torn my family apart. Months holding onto that rage that Count Windsor took my family's life. That grief. And yet...

"You are lying," I said quietly, but it lacked conviction.

Callum simply slid the diary into my hands, forcing me to hold it. "Read it." His voice dropped lower. "And if you want the full truth, come to my estate. Discreetly. We wouldn’t want the wrong people knowing, now would we?"

My grip on the book tightened, and my heart hammered against my ribs.

Callum turned towards the door, pausing just before stepping out. "You can continue to lie to yourself, Avaris. Or you can finally face the truth. Your choice."

He then left, leaving behind three diaries and a truth I was not sure I was prepared to face.