"Wh-what do you mean Edric IS your son?!" Jenevive retorted, clearly appalled. "I mean, I heard you at the door, and just right now, but it doesn't make any sense!" She spun to Renee. "Does it?"
Renee gave a blasé expression, her arms folded.
Miridald had a look similar to her sister's.
Jenevive gazed repeatedly between the two. "Why aren't you saying anything?!" She shrieked.
"Jenevive dear," Miridald started, almost snark, getting up from the bed.
She stood before Jenevive, eyes locked. "There's clearly so much that we don't know about each other." She paused, letting the words sink in, then continued. "And I think it's time we converse."
She gestured to the bed. "Care to take a pew with me?"
Jenevive looked again between the two sisters, almost skeptical.
Renee stood unbothered.
She turned toward Miridald with resolve. "I'd love that very much. Let's talk."
---
Sitting on the bed facing each other, Miridald began calmly. "What would you like to know? I'm sure you must have a million questions. And suspicions."
"First of all: What do you mean Edric is your son?" Jenevive began immediately. "You never once, not even by the slightest, insinuated that you have another kid."
Miridald gave a long, tired sigh. She glanced back at Renee - now seated on the couch, before turning back to Jenevive.
"It was fourteen years ago. I had just been engaged to the love of my life, or at least... who I thought was the love of my life. Edward and Edric - the twins...MY twins - were just about to turn two - in a few weeks' time."
---
In a quiet, peaceful estate in Lavington, a young, vibrant Lynette lived on the second floor of an apartment building with a dapper, smug, and irritatingly handsome man. Her fiancé. Michael Kubu.
There, they were raising their adorable, clearly distinguishable, twin sons with the help of a humble, bubbly nanny called Mimi.
Walking into the study, with light - golden and pure - spilling into the vastness of the space through the window blinds, Lynette stopped on her tracks when she saw Michael shuffling anxiously through the shelves.
She stepped back and leaned against the doorframe, her huge, puffy afro - held back in a bun - cushioning her head and complementing her angelic, ever-beautiful face at the same time.
A sweet and mischievous smile formed on her face as she watched the oblivious Micheal continue with his exercise, now at the lower parts of the shelves.
"Boo!" she almost muttered, but thought of an even more devious idea. One that was sure to scare the wits out of him.
She zipped to him, standing behind him with one blurry movement.
Michael immediately felt a presence behind him and spun toward it - movement just as fast as Lynette's, or even faster - with light fringes forming all around him.
In a blink, he slammed Lynette against the study's door, closing it in the process.
A yelp almost escaped Lynette's lips. She held it in, looking daringly into Michael's dreamy, brown orbs. His short, curly hair sat haphazardly on his head, its styling both immaculate and gorgeous.
Trying to break free from his hold, Lynette pushed at him. "Let me go, you scoundrel."
"We ndio umeanza uchokozi," Michael retorted with a smug smile. He was clearly enjoying himself.
He leaned down for a kiss. Lynette shied away, looking to her side.
"Come on now, Kal," Lynette begged, face still turned away, cheeks flushed. "You know we aren't alone in the house."
Michael stepped closer to her, arms wrapping around her waist tighter.
A gasp escaped Lynette.
"I know," he begun rather huskily, deliberately in fact. "But what's wrong with kissing my wife?"
Lynette looked him in the eyes, hers dangerous. "Future wife," she corrected. "Not yet-"
Before she could finish, Michael captured her lips in his, kissing her with a fierce and aching passion.
Lynette lost herself in the heat. She wrapped her arms around his neck and tugged him down to her aggressively.
Their mouths moved in a wild, fervent rhythm. Lynette sprang up and wrapped her legs around Michael's waist, locking them there.
The front door opened.
Lynette hitched herself from the kiss.
Michael looked disappointed. "What?"
"Someone just got into the house," Lynette explained.
She unwrapped her legs and stepped on the floor.
Looking into his eyes, she stressed her words. "Just right now."
"Relax," Michael waved off. "It's just Mimi. She had gone out some time earlier to take care of something of hers."
"What? I didn't know that."
"Of course you didn't, Mon Cher. That's why I just told you."
Lynette unwrapped her arms too and turned to the door, but just as she was about to open it, Michael's hand settled on hers.
She turned to him over her shoulder. "What?"
"Um..." Michael began adorably. "Baby Michael was just wondering why Mommy Lynette doesn't want to-"
Lynette spun to him immediately and placed a finger on his mouth. "Oh my God, Michael. Why do you have be so corny?"
Michael only smiled.
"Okay," Lynette gave in. "Tell you what? How about after am back from the offices? We can spend some quality time then."
"Deal."
"And by quality time I just don't mean-"
"Yeah, yeah. Sure." Michael retreated from her, feigning offense. "What do you think I am? A walking libido?"
With an eye-roll and a sharp grin, Lynette turned toward the door again. "Don't even get me started."
She opened it and stepped out, walking toward the living room.
"Ma'am," Mimi was quick to acknowledge her. She stood nervously beside a console table next to the foyer.
"Mimi," Lynette tried to approach her, but she picked up on her tensed posture and racing heartbeat.
Mimi was clearly terrified.
Michael stepped into the room from behind Lynette. His eyes locked with Mimi's for a brief moment before she finally looked away, all the more anxious now.
"Excuse me, sir. Excuse me, ma'am," Mimi excused herself before they could even say a word. With her head held low, she walked around them and into the corridor, stopping briefly for a moment to take one more gander before walking away, possibly to her room.
---
"That was my first clue," Miridald carried on, rather bitterly. "Or at least amongst my first."
Jenevive listened intently.
"I knew that we had just recently divulged the fact that we were supernatural to her, and that it was still taking her time to adjust to it despite her apparent lack of discomfort, but... still. I should have read through the signs when she suddenly acted like that. When she suddenly started to avoid me."
In a sudden blurry motion, Renee sprang up from the couch, zoomed to the door, yanked it open, hitched something in, and shut it.
Jenevive followed the object flying across the room only to realise it was a person - dressed in goth streetwear.
He slammed violently against a wall and thudded to the ground.
Jenevive couldn't help but wonder what Renee really was.
Miridald got up from the bed and circled it to stand in front of the man, a cautious distance between them.
Renee stood guardedly at the door, eyes terrifyingly stern.
Before Miridald could voice her demands, the guy flipped up from the floor with a familiar, ominous speed.
Werewolf.
His eyes affirmed it.
He looked anxiously between the three women.
No chance. He knew it.
Renee tilted her head slightly to the right, the corner of her mouth curling up to something close to a smile, eyes daring.
Swallowing hard, the man had no choice. He raised his hand and tore out his own heart before Renee could even blink, blood spurting out from the hole in his chest as his body fell face-forward; eyes draining of life, heart still clutched in hand - beating.
Jenevive's horror resounded with the thump the body made against the floor, clearly flinching.
Miridald looked both curious and unfazed.
Renee just seemed pissed.
Turning to make eye contact with Jenevive, Miridald couldn't help but feel all the more sympathy for her.
"Guess you weren't a field agent back in BAJIMSA," she remarked.
Jenevive's eyes widened.
"Miri," Renee called from the back, voice full of angst.
"The kids."
Without another word, Miridald made her way out of the ward, Jenevive following anxiously behind.
She stopped at the door and turned back to Renee.
"I'll take care of this," Renee assured, sounding almost too experienced.
Jenevive couldn't help but feel overwhelmed before continuing to hasten after Miridald, mind buzzing with a million and one questions.
Who were these people?
---
Edward, Anita, Jesse and Mdachi were busy talking about how suspicious the lady Jesse had met at the vending machines was, while munching on their snacks, when Miridald stormed into the room, Jenevive close behind.
The two ladies scanned the space intently before their hearts finally settled back in place, releasing breaths they hadn't known they were holding.
Miridald's eyes snapped back to Edward. He had a potato chip halfway to his mouth - posture frozen, eyes worried.
Anita sat comfortably beside him on the bed with her own snacks in hand. Jesse sat at the lower side of the bed, right beside Edward's feet, with his legs sprawled across the bed and his back resting against the same railing Mdachi was leaning on.
"Mom... what's wrong? Why do you look so rattled? Aunt Renee ako?"
Miridald swallowed, stepping closer to the bed.
"I really wish I wasn't about to tell you this but... this place is not as safe as I thought it'd be. I need to get us out of here. Now. Need to have you discharged."
"Mom, what's going on?" Anita prompted her mother.
"Not now, baby. Just get yourselves ready."
Miridald was at the door by the time Jenevive finished talking, not even waiting for Edward's questions.
"Where are you going, Miridald?" Jenevive asked hastily, clearly still aghast by everything.
Miridald stopped and turned to her. "To initialize Edward's discharge," she said bluntly.
"My house. Afterwards. It's safe," Jenevive said.
"Wasn't planning on any other place."
"And Miridald..."
"Yes?"
"We don't know what these people want, but they are clearly desperate. Make sure everyone else that you care about is safe. I'll see what I can do myself."
Miridald nodded once and left.
"Anyone care to fill us in?" Jesse protested.
"Yeah. Jenevive, what's going on?" Mdachi asked, standing up from his stool.
Edward already had an inkling as to who.
Anita just sat quietly, looking between everyone.
"Everything's gonna be alright, kids. I promise," was the only thing Jenevive could say.
---
Disheveled and disappointed, Jarold was leaving the police station when Miridald called.
He picked up instantly. "Hey, Heart. Sorry I'm not at home, I-"
"Wait, wait, wait-" Miridald interrupted quickly. "You're not at home?"
Jarold's face scrunched up. "Heart, what's wrong?" He could feel it from the way she was breathing. Something was definitely wrong.
"Where are you, Jarold?" Miridald ignored his question, her tone still paranoid.
"Um, at the police station."
"W-what are you doing there?"
"What do you mean? I came to do my own personal follow-up on Hallington's case. Anomalies in the will and all. Turns out the police are just as shady."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, for starters, do you remember that detective - Bharat - that came by yesterday, after everyone had left?"
"...Yeah."
"Turns out - ironically and very much suspiciously - he went on a sabbatical just today. A few hours earlier and I would've caught him. Freaky, isn't it?"
Miridald sighed. "Mpenzi?"
"Yes, Heart?"
"Can we just put a minor halt to that right now? Just briefly?"
"But, honey, there are inconsistencies and icks leaking all over this case. Sure, I don't FULLY know the conducts and procedures of these cases, especially with how tangled and blurred this one is, but I can smell a rat when there's one."
...
"Heart?" Jarold called out.
"Okay, Heart. I hear you. We'll talk more about it when I get home. I'm at Jenevive's right now with Renee."
"H-how is Edward?" Jarold's voice saddened.
Another sigh. "He's coping, honey. He's coping. This whole pandemonium has distraughted him."
"Is he coming home?"
"He'll likely stay at Jenevive's for the night again."
"Just tell him then... that Dad loves him. Always will. And that I'm here for him if he wants to talk, or just for anything."
"...I will, Heart. I will."
"Now, you," Miridald carried on. "I want you to drive home safely and call me when you get there. In the house." She paused. "Si unaenda home sai? There's no other place una-branch-ia?"
"I could actually go get some groceries first," Jarold suggested.
"Please just go home directly," Miridald snapped.
Jarold looked slightly perplexed. "Yeesh, hon. What's up? Why are you so paranoid about me going-"
"I'll tell you more when I get there. Hmm? Just please go home. And call me when you get there?"
"...Okay. Yes ma'am."
"Jarold..."
"It's okay, hon. I know things are freaky right now. Bet it'd just be prudent to talk at home when you arrive. I also have things I'd like to discuss."
Miridald sighed.
"And Heart," Jarold carried on softly, "should I cook for all or just for one?"
"For all. I've MISSED your cooking, and I'm sure Renee has too."
A smile curled at the side of Jarold's mouth. "Okay."
He cut the call.