CHAPTER — Morning Shadows and Borrowed Pain
The pale morning light filtered in through the half-open curtains, brushing over Dee's face in a soft, golden haze. Her lashes fluttered against the brightness, and for a moment, she simply lay still, listening to the faint sounds of life stirring in the mansion — the clink of cutlery, the soft murmur of a voice in the distance, the hiss of something frying.
She sat up slowly, tucking her hair behind her ears. The room was warm, but her bare feet touched the cool marble floor, sending a shiver through her. She slid on a light cardigan, pushing open the door to the hallway.
The air carried the faint, comforting aroma of butter and freshly brewed coffee.
She followed the scent to the kitchen.
Haley Zyphrose — Rayyan's mother — stood at the counter, dressed in a pale blue blouse and soft beige trousers, her hair pulled into a low bun. She was flipping something in a frying pan, humming faintly to herself.
Dee hesitated for a moment at the doorway before stepping in.
"Good morning, Mrs. Zyphrose," she said quietly.
Haley turned, her face breaking into a gentle smile. "Good morning, sweetheart. You're up early."
"I woke up and… couldn't go back to sleep," Dee admitted, leaning against the counter. "Do you need help with anything?"
Haley shook her head lightly. "No, no. You're a guest here. Just sit, I'll make you something nice for breakfast."
Dee glanced toward the eggs and bread laid out, the butter dish slightly melted from the morning heat. "I don't mind helping. I used to cook a lot."
Haley chuckled softly. "Cooking for yourself and cooking for a family are two different things." She turned back to the stove, lifting the frying pan again. "Though, I wouldn't mind some company while I work."
Dee smiled faintly and moved closer. "Then I'll keep you company."
They chatted for a moment — nothing too deep, just soft exchanges about the weather, the garden outside, the strange way mornings felt quieter in this part of the city.
Haley was mid-sentence when it happened.
The frying pan slipped slightly in her grip, and the edge brushed the side of her hand.
"Ah!" Haley flinched, her face tightening.
"Mrs. Zyphrose!" Dee's voice was sharp with concern. She rushed forward, grabbing Haley's wrist gently. "Here, come — quickly."
Before Haley could protest, Dee was pulling her to the sink, turning the cold water on full. She held Haley's hand beneath the stream, letting the coolness wash over the reddened skin.
Haley winced but tried to wave it off. "It's alright, darling. It's not that bad."
"It is bad," Dee insisted, her brows knitting. "You should be careful." Her throat felt oddly tight. Without thinking, she whispered, "I wish my hand burned instead of yours. I'm sorry. It's my fault — I distracted you."
Haley gave her a surprised look. "Don't say that. You didn't do anything wrong."
But Dee didn't answer — she was too focused on the redness on Haley's skin.
After a few seconds, Haley blinked in surprise. "Oh… it's strange. The pain just stopped." She turned her hand slightly under the water. "It's fine now. Really."
Dee frowned, unconvinced, but Haley was already stepping back toward the counter, reaching for the eggs again as if nothing had happened.
Dee's eyes followed her — but then, a sharp, hot sting shot through her own hand.
She gasped softly, clutching it. The burn was in the exact same place Haley had been hurt, and when she looked down, her skin bore the same faint red mark.
What—?
She glanced at Haley, who seemed unaware, humming again as she cracked an egg.
Dee curled her fingers, wincing at the heat still radiating from her skin. How… how is this possible? She didn't say anything, not yet.
---
Breakfast was served at the long dining table, sunlight pooling over the glossy wood. Rayyan was already there, sleeves rolled up, his hair slightly mussed from sleep. He looked at her briefly, his eyes searching.
"You okay?" he asked casually, though his tone held an edge of curiosity.
She hesitated, thinking about the night before — about the memory she had read when she touched him, the argument, the rain, the way he had grabbed her hand.
"I'm fine," she said, perhaps too quickly.
Rayyan leaned back in his chair. "That's not what you said last night."
Dee narrowed her eyes. "I don't recall saying anything last night."
He smirked slightly. "You never say it. But I can tell."
"Maybe you're imagining things," she shot back, lifting her cup of tea.
"Or maybe you're terrible at hiding your expressions," he countered.
They went back and forth like that, a faint bickering that made Haley smile faintly from her seat. The air was warmer than usual — not quite comfort, but something trying to be.
---
Halfway through breakfast, Haley looked up from her plate. "Rayyan, take Dee out today. She's been cooped up in this house for too long. Buy her some new clothes, something nice."
Dee quickly shook her head. "I don't need anything—"
Her phone buzzed against the table. A message flashed across the screen.
Richard is still in the village.
Dee's heart gave a small jolt. Perfect. If she was out, she could find a way to get there without anyone noticing.
She looked up with a small, agreeable smile. "Actually… maybe I do need some clothes."
Rayyan raised an eyebrow but didn't question it.
---
The drive to the mall was quiet at first. Rayyan kept glancing at her from the corner of his eye, but Dee stared out the window, lost in thought.
At a red light, he finally asked, "So… what's the sudden change of heart? This morning you didn't want to go anywhere."
She gave him a half-smile. "Maybe I just like the idea of you carrying my shopping bags."
Rayyan snorted softly. "Not happening. You're carrying your own bags."
"In your dreams."
They pulled into the underground parking lot, stepping out into the cool air-conditioned atmosphere of the mall.
---