The morning sun filtered through Tasha's curtains, painting her walls in streaks of gold that danced across posters and the messy sprawl of books on her desk. She stirred beneath her blanket, stretching with a small groan before rolling onto her side.
Fragments of a dream clung stubbornly to her mind. Dark trees, a forest so dense the sky had been smothered. Whispers like wind curled around her ears, and shadows stretched long and watchful. She remembered the strange, breathless sensation of running not from something, but toward something her pulse alive with purpose.
And then that other sensation: of being watched.
Her heart gave a quick, unsteady thump as the memory sharpened. The feeling had been so vivid, so real, that for a moment she almost expected to see someone standing at her window.
But there was only sunlight.
"Just a dream," she muttered, rubbing her temples. Still, the unease clung to her like smoke.
Downstairs, silence pressed against the house. No clinking dishes, no faint voice drifting through a phone call. Her mother, who was always up first, wasn't humming in the kitchen or moving about with her usual brisk energy.
The quiet felt… unnatural.
Yawning, Tasha padded barefoot toward the kitchen. Her mother stood by the sink, back rigid, one hand curled around the edge of the counter. A steaming cup of coffee rested beside her, untouched.
"Morning, Mom," Tasha said, pulling the fridge open.
Her mother flinched. Actually flinched.
"Oh good morning, sweetheart," she said quickly, forcing a smile as she stirred her coffee. "Did you sleep well?"
Tasha narrowed her eyes. Her mom's tone was light, but her fingers were tight around the mug, knuckles pale. "Yeah… I guess. You okay?"
"Of course," her mother replied too quickly, her voice smoothing like someone ironing out wrinkles. "Just… a lot on my mind."
Before Tasha could press further, a car horn blared outside. Her mother jumped as though shot through with electricity.
"That must be Mina's dad," she blurted, setting her cup down. "He's dropping by to pick something up."
Tasha frowned. "Mina didn't say anything about that."
Her mom let out a short laugh that didn't reach her eyes. "Sweetheart, we adults do have lives outside of your teenage drama."
Tasha rolled her eyes, but the knot in her stomach didn't ease. The air felt wrong, heavy with something unspoken. Maybe she was imagining things.
Maybe…
Mina sat at the dining table, twirling a spoon idly between her fingers. Across from her, her father nursed a cup of tea. Normally, breakfast meant background noise pages turning, lectures about healthy eating, or absentminded muttering about his latest research.
But this morning, he just watched her.
"Okay, seriously," Mina said, raising an eyebrow. "What's with the creepy staring? Do I have syrup on my face or something?"
Her father chuckled, but his eyes didn't soften. "No, sweetheart. I just… can't believe how fast you're growing up."
Mina snorted. "Uh, yeah? That's literally how time works."
But his sigh was heavy, and when he ran a hand through his hair, she noticed the faint tremor in it. "There's… something I've been meaning to talk to you about. Something important."
A knot formed in her stomach. "Please tell me this isn't some awkward puberty talk, because I swear, I already know…"
"No." His voice cut through hers, steady but strained. "It's not that."
Her frown deepened. "Okay, now you're scaring me."
His fingers tapped against the table, a nervous rhythm. "Have you… noticed anything strange lately? With yourself. Your body, your emotions. Feeling different?"
Mina tilted her head, uncertain. "I mean… yeah? I'm seventeen. Pretty sure that's the definition of weird changes. Why?"
He hesitated, his gaze weighing her as though searching for signs only he could see. "Sometimes, those changes can be… more than just growing up."
The hairs along her arms prickled. "Dad, what are you talking about?"
He opened his mouth, then stopped. His hand curled back around his cup, and he took a slow sip instead. "Nothing. Forget I said anything."
Mina groaned, leaning back in her chair. "Seriously? You went all cryptic just for that? You're impossible."
He smiled softly, but his eyes gave him away. They weren't just worried. They were afraid.
Later that day, Tasha arrived at Mina's house, her backpack slung lazily over one shoulder, but her expression tight.
"You would not believe how weird my mom was acting," she said as soon as Mina opened the door.
Mina snorted. "Try living with my dad. He gave me this whole ominous, 'you're growing so fast' speech. Then he asked if I'd noticed changes. Like, what does that even mean?"
Tasha raised a brow. "Yikes. Maybe he's joining a cult. That'd explain a lot."
Mina burst out laughing. "At this point, I wouldn't even be surprised."
They made their way upstairs, flopping onto Mina's bed like it was a ritual.
"So," Mina said, propping her chin in her hand. "What's up with you?"
Tasha hesitated, her dream tugging at the edge of her mind. Finally, she exhaled. "I had a weird dream last night."
Mina groaned dramatically. "Oh no. Here we go."
Tasha smacked her with a pillow. "Shut up! I'm serious. It felt… different. There was this forest. I was running, and it didn't feel scary. It felt like I was supposed to be there."
Mina tilted her head. "And?"
"And then I saw someone," Tasha whispered, her voice dropping. "A figure. Familiar somehow. But I couldn't see their face."
Mina arched a brow. "And this is different from your usual supernatural obsession how?"
"I don't know." Tasha sighed, hugging the pillow to her chest. "It just felt real."
"Mm-hm," Mina smirked. "You binge too many fantasy shows. Next, you'll tell me you're secretly a werewolf."
Tasha laughed. "That would be awesome."
"Yeah, yeah. If you start howling at the moon, I'm calling an exorcist."
"You're the worst."
"And yet, you adore me."
That Evening at Mina's house, the scent of roasted vegetables and garlic bread filled the dining room. Mina's dad carved the chicken with meticulous precision, while Olivia, Tasha's mom sat across from him, her usual polished demeanor intact.
But Tasha noticed it immediately. The fleeting glances. The clipped smiles. The way her mom's hand lingered on her glass just a moment too long before sipping.
Dinner was normal on the surface. Mina joked about a teacher's meltdown in class. Tasha complained about math homework. Their parents laughed in the right places, nodded at the right times.
But beneath it, the air was taut.
Every smile was a mask. Every laugh covered something unsaid.
Later, when Mina and Tasha retreated upstairs, the weight of it followed them.
Mina flopped onto her bed. "Okay, that was definitely weird."
"Right?" Tasha dropped beside her. "They're hiding something."
"Totally," Mina smirked. "Maybe your mom's pregnant and my dad's responsible."
Tasha choked on her laugh. "Mina!"
Mina grinned wickedly. "What? It'd be dramatic."
"Yeah, and soap-opera-level messy."
They dissolved into giggles, their laughter filling the room until it hurt.
But when the laughter faded and quiet settled in again, the unease returned. A heavy, unseen shadow pressed against the edges of their world.
Secrets were lurking, waiting.
And neither girl was ready for how close the truth really was.