Chapter 62

OMARI

The quiet didn’t last long.

It never did.

By the next morning, the world had already found a new rumor to whisper about. But for once, I didn’t care.

I woke up early, and for a few minutes, everything felt soft. The light through my window, the cool air, the silence in the hall.

When I came downstairs, Kael was already up. He sat at the counter with a mug in his hand, reading something on his phone. His hair was still damp from a shower.

“Morning,” I said.

He looked up, eyes tired but kind. “You’re up early.”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

He nodded like he understood. “You’ve had a lot on your mind.”

“Yeah,” I said softly. “Feels like it never stops.”

He smiled a little, then slid a second mug toward me. “Here. You look like you need it more than I do.”

I smiled. “Thanks.” The coffee was warm, a little too bitter, but it helped.

Kael leaned back, studying me quietly. “You’ve been stronger than I thought, you know.”

I blinked. “What do you mean?”

“You didn’t let them break you. Most people would’ve fallen apart by now.”

“I almost did,” I said.

He shook his head. “Almost doesn’t count.”

Something in the way he said it made my chest ache. Kael had always been calm, quiet strength. The one who didn’t show much but somehow made you feel safe.

Before I could say anything, Ashton came down the stairs half-dressed and yawning. “Morning therapy again?”

Kael threw a napkin at him. “Shut up.”

Ashton laughed. “You two are way too serious in the mornings.”

I rolled my eyes and stood. “Someone has to balance you out.”

Leighton came in next, hair messy, holding a bag of chips like it was breakfast. “You mean keep him from setting things on fire?”

Kael smirked. “Still better than your idea of breakfast.”

They started bickering again, and for a moment, I just watched them. The sound of their voices filled the space in a way that made everything else fade. It almost felt normal.

Then Peighton came in.

He didn’t say anything at first. He just stood in the doorway, watching. His dark shirt fit him too well, his eyes unreadable.

When our eyes met, something in my stomach tightened.

“Morning,” I said.

“Morning.” His voice was quiet, rough, still half asleep.

Ashton smirked. “Peighton, did you even sleep?”

“Enough.”

Kael handed him a piece of toast. “Eat before you faint.”

Peighton took it without a word, but his eyes flicked back to me. Just once. Just enough.

After breakfast, we all left for school. Kael drove this time. Ashton complained about the music, Leighton talked about a test, and I just stared out the window.

Peighton sat beside me again. He didn’t speak, but the quiet between us wasn’t uncomfortable anymore. It was thick. Heavy. Warm in a strange way.

When we reached school, the same stares were waiting. But they felt dull now, like background noise.

I went to my locker. Lila ran up a few seconds later, holding her phone. “Omari! You need to see this.”

“What is it?”

“Violet posted something. A video.”

My stomach dropped. “Of what?”

She hesitated. “Of you. From last week. When that light showed up behind you in the garden.”

I froze. “You’re kidding.”

“No,” she said quietly. “She’s calling you the witch of Red Hill.”

The hallway seemed to close in around me. I could feel eyes on me already. Whispers starting up like a wave.

Then Peighton was suddenly there, pulling the phone from Lila’s hand. His jaw tightened as he watched the video. “Where did she get this?”

“I don’t know,” Lila said. “It’s everywhere now.”

He exhaled sharply, then looked at me. “Ignore it.”

“I can’t,” I whispered. “Everyone’s going to see it.”

“They’ll get tired of it,” he said. “They always do.”

But his eyes said something else. That he was angry. That someone was going to pay.

By the end of the day, I could barely stand being in the halls. People moved out of my way, whispering. Some looked scared. Others were just curious.

Leighton found me by the lockers. “You okay?”

“Not really.”

He nodded. “We’ll handle it.”

“How?”

“Violet wants a reaction. Don’t give her one. We’ll deal with her later.”

His voice was calm, but I knew that look in his eyes. It wasn’t calm at all.

When the last bell rang, I didn’t wait around. I went straight to the field behind the gym. It was quiet there. The wind was soft, and the sky was low and gray.

I sat on the grass and tried to breathe.

Footsteps followed after a few minutes. I didn’t even have to look up. I already knew who it was.

“Everyone’s talking about it,” Peighton said.

“I know.”

“You shouldn’t have to deal with this.”

“I don’t have a choice.”

He stopped beside me, his shadow falling across my legs. “You always have a choice.”

I looked up at him. “You mean like ignoring you when you walk away?”

He didn’t answer, but the muscle in his jaw moved.

“I can’t,” I said quietly.

His expression shifted. Softer. “Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to.”

The words hung between us. He sat down beside me, close enough that I could feel the warmth from his arm.

We didn’t talk for a while. The air smelled like rain again. His fingers brushed the grass near mine, slow, deliberate.

“Do you ever wish things were simple again?” I asked.

“Sometimes,” he said. “But then I think, if things were simple, maybe I wouldn’t have met you.”

My breath caught.

He didn’t look at me when he said it, but his voice was steady.

“Peighton”

He turned his head then, and for a second, everything around us went quiet. His eyes were darker than I’d ever seen them.

“I shouldn’t feel this way,” he said. “You make me forget why I shouldn’t.”

I didn’t move. I didn’t breathe.

He leaned closer, slow enough that I could stop him if I wanted to. But I didn’t want to. His hand brushed mine, and the world felt small.

Then, before anything else could happen, Kael’s voice came from behind us.

“Peighton.”

We both turned. Kael stood there, his face unreadable.

“Mom’s looking for you,” he said flatly. “Now.”

Peighton sighed and stood. “Fine.” He looked at me for a second, something unspoken in his eyes, then walked away.

Kael waited until he was gone before sitting beside me. “You should be careful with him.”

“That’s what Leighton said.”

“They’re right.”

I looked at him. “Why?”

Kael stared at the sky. “Because Peighton doesn’t stop once he wants something. And you, you make him want.”

The words made me shiver.

He turned his head to me. “You’re not ready for what comes with that.”

I swallowed. “And what comes with it?”

“Us,” he said softly.

The wind picked up again, brushing my hair into my face.

When I looked at him, there was something sad in his eyes. Something like a warning.

He stood then, brushed off his hands, and said, “Come on. It’s getting late.”

I followed him back toward the car, my chest tight, my thoughts loud.

That night, I couldn’t sleep again.

I kept thinking about Peighton’s eyes. Kael’s voice. The quiet that never really stayed quiet for long.

And deep down, I knew something was shifting between us all. Slowly. Quietly.

And it wasn’t going to stop.

That night passed slowly.

I kept turning on my bed, staring at the ceiling. The sound of rain outside made it worse. It always did. It reminded me of the quiet I couldn’t escape.

At some point, I got up and went to the balcony. The house was dark. Everyone was asleep. The sky was heavy with

He gave a quiet laugh, the kind that wasn’t really a laugh at all. “You don’t know me well enough to say that.”

“I know enough.”

He looked down, water dripping from his hair. “You shouldn’t.

For a second, neither of us said anything. Just rain. Just breathing.

Then he took a small step closer. “You keep showing up,” he said.

“I can’t help it.”

His eyes lifted. “You should try.”

“I don’t want to.”

His jaw tightened, like he was trying not to react. Then he took another step closer. “You don’t know what you’re doing to me.

My breath caught. “Then tell me.”

He looked at me like the words were hard to find. “You make it hard to stay away. And harder to get close.”

The rain was falling harder now. My hair was plastered to my face, but I didn’t care.

“Maybe that’s not a bad thing,” I whispered.

He stared at me for a long time. Then his hand lifted, fingers brushing the side of my face. Cold. Careful. Almost shaking.

And for one moment, everything stopped. The rain, the sound, the space between us.

But before he could say anything else, a door opened from the porch.

“Peighton!”

Kael’s voice again. Sharp this time.

Peighton dropped his hand and stepped back. His face shut down. The warmth disappeared.

Kael came closer, eyes dark with something between anger and warning. “You really can’t help yourself, can you?”

“Stay out of it,” Peighton said.

“Then stop giving me reasons not to.”

They stared at each other, quiet but tense.

I stepped between them. “Please. Stop.”

Kael’s gaze flicked to me. “You shouldn’t be out here either.”

“I’m fine,” I said softly.

He sighed, running a hand through his wet hair. “Go inside, Omari. Both of you.”

Peighton’s jaw clenched, but he turned away first, walking toward the house. I followed behind, heart beating too fast.

Inside, the lights were low. The warmth of the house felt strange after the cold.

Peighton didn’t stop walking. He went straight up the stairs. Kael stood by the door, dripping water onto the floor.

“Kael,” I said quietly.

He looked at me. “He’s going to hurt you.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do.”

His voice was low but firm. “He’s trying to hold it together, but if you keep pulling him closer, something’s going to break.”

I didn’t answer.

Kael stepped closer, close enough for me to see the water still running down his jaw. “You think you can handle him, but you don’t even understand him yet.”

“Then explain him to me.”

He hesitated. Then he shook his head. “Not tonight.”

He turned and walked away, leaving me in the quiet hall.

Upstairs, I heard a door close.

I stood there for a long time, trying to breathe normally.

But no matter how many times I told myself to stop thinking about him, my thoughts kept going back to the same place. The same eyes. The same moment in the rain.

That touch. That danger I couldn’t seem to stay away from.

When I finally went to bed, the house was still. The rain had softened.

And as my eyes closed, I thought I heard something faint,  a whisper near the window. A sound too soft to be real.

My name.

Just my name.

And then silence.