The tiny bell above the flower shop door tinkled when Niah pushed it open. That jasmine smell hit her right away, mixed with dirt from the pots, pulling her back like an old photo album.
Sunlight snuck in through the big front windows, throwing gentle stripes over the messy counters full of fresh flowers.
Jules was back there at the register. She glanced up with her usual quick smile, but it dropped fast once she got a look at Niah's expression.
"Niah?" she said, wiping her hands on her apron. "You okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."
Or become one, she thought, seeing the strange heaviness in her friend's gaze.
Niah offered a brittle smile. "We need to talk. Somewhere private."
Jules didn't say anything, just nodded and took her to the back, that tiny room crammed with hanging herbs going dry, stacks of empty clay pots, and this beat-up old sofa that had seen better days.
She shut the door behind them.
"Alright," Jules said, crossing her arms. "Spill, because from the last few days, you and your… friends have been acting like you're starring in some supernatural drama."
She aimed for a joke. It landed wrong, heavy in the air.
Niah sat down, pressing her palms to her knees to steady herself. "There's no easy way to say this," she began. "And you're probably not going to believe me."
"Try me," Jules challenged.
Niah took a deep breath.
"The world you know, it's only half the truth. There's another world layered over it. A world of ancient powers. Veilwalkers, Shadow binders, Magic and creatures that never made it into your fairytales."
She glanced up, and Jules' face was unreadable.
"I'm not just Niah. I was born Esme. An Aesvaran, a Guardian of the Veil itself. And everything happening now… the dreams, the monsters, the shifts in the world, it's all connected. It's awakening because something dark is rising again. Something that wants to tear the Veil apart, and with it, everything living."
Niah began explaining everything to Jules: her past life, the people she once knew, the magic that binds them, and the Veil that holds it all together.
Silence.
Jules stared at her for a long moment.
Then-
She burst out laughing, all edges and doubt.
"Okay," she said, pacing a tight line across the room. "You're telling me you're a—what? Chosen One? And Sylen… Sylen, who flirts like breathing, can vanish into thin air? And that weird dog—"
"Dusken," Niah said automatically.
"—Dusken is some kind of cursed fire-demon-fox thing?!" Jules finished, her voice climbing.
She turned back to Niah, looking stricken.
"And Zaire? He's not just your old flame, he's, what, some magical warlord?!"
Niah winced. "It's complicated."
"No," Jules said, voice trembling, hands gripping her hair. "No, this is insane. Are you serious? You believe all of this?"
"I don't just believe it," Niah said softly. "I live it. And now…" She swallowed. "So will you. Whether you want to or not. The darkness that's coming, it won't leave anyone untouched."
Jules sagged onto the couch across from her, staring at the floor. "You could've told me sooner," she whispered.
Niah swallowed, voice breaking. "I wanted to. But I kept thinking, maybe if I waited, it would feel real. I don't know how to be her, Jules. I don't know how to be Esme. I was figuring out how to be her." She exhaled shakily. "And I don't know how to make it."
"And now?"
"Now," Niah said, reaching across the space to cover Jules' hand with her own, "I need you to believe in me. Even if none of this feels right yet. Even if I still feel like—" She hesitated, then shook her head. "Just please."
The air between them was heavy, with the weight of a hundred shared memories, their childhood summers, teenage promises, broken hearts and stitched-together dreams.
Jules sat still for a long time.
Then she looked up, her eyes shining, fierce and terrified.
"I don't understand a damn thing," she said, voice shaking. "But I'm not leaving you."
She squeezed Niah's hand back, hard. "You're stuck with me forever, supernatural or not."
And for the first time since the stars had begun to whisper warnings, Niah smiled. Not because everything would be alright.
But because, maybe, she didn't have to face the end of the world alone.
* * *