Seraphina stood just inside the door, her bag still hanging from her shoulder, her eyes moving slowly across the room. Nothing had changed. The same worn-out couch, the same chipped table and quietness.
The apartment looked like no one had entered it in weeks, it didn't look like home.
For a moment, she wondered why she had come
The door creaked open behind her. Seraphina jerked and turned.
Her mother stepped in, dropping her bag by the side without looking up. "You're here."
That was all, no surprise, no warmth and no questions.
Seraphina swallowed. "Yes."
Her mother nodded once and walked past her, heading straight to the kitchen like Seraphina wasn't standing there at all.
The silence stretched between them. Seraphina closed the door slowly.
Maybe tomorrow will be better.
***************************************************************************************************************************
Morning came too quickly.
Seraphina stood in the small kitchen, staring at the food she had prepared, egg, bread and tea. It wasn't much, but it was something.
"We can talk today" she thought to herself.
She had thought about it all night. Rehearsed the words in her head. Tried to make sense of everything she was feeling.
She heard her mother's footsteps and turned quickly.
"I made breakfast," she said, forcing a small smile. "We can eat together."
Her mother paused at the doorway, eyes briefly flickering over the table before looking away.
"I'm not hungry." The words were flat.
Seraphina's smile faded. "You haven't eaten since yesterday, you didn't eat last night."
"I said I'm not hungry." her mother snapped and reached for a cup, pouring herself water instead. Like the conversation was already over.
Seraphina's chest tightened. "Can we talk?"
Her voice came out softer than she intended.
Her mother didn't respond, she just drank her water, like Seraphina wasn't there, like she didn't matter.
Something inside Seraphina snapped.
"What is the problem?" she asked, her voice shaking now. "Why are you like this?"
Seraphina took a step forward. "Why do you keep acting like I don't exist?"
Her mother set the cup down slowly and looked at her with no emotions in her eyes.
"I've always been like this," her mother said.
Seraphina shook her head quickly, tears already burning in her eyes. "No… no, you haven't. You used to care. You used to ask me about school, about my day…"
"That was before."
Seraphina froze at the word. Her voice broke. "Before what?"
Her mother sighed, like this conversation was tiring her. "Before your father died. Before I carried all the responsibilities like it was mine to carry"
Seraphina blinked. "What?"
"I've done my part," her mother continued, her tone still calm, still distant. "I fed you. I kept a roof over your head. I made sure you finished school."
Each word felt like a step backward,
"You're in university now," her mother added. "You wanted that, you got it, so focus on it."
Seraphina stared at her.
"I am focusing on it," she said, her voice rising. "Do you know how hard it has been for me? Do you know what I've had to do just to stay there?"
Her hands trembled as she spoke.
"You stopped paying my fees back in high school, I worked, I struggled and I saved every little money I could just to get there and you don't even ask how I'm doing!"
Her voice cracked completely now. "You don't care!". the words echoed in the small kitchen.
For a moment, there was silence. Then her mother spoke again.
"I don't have the energy to care about things that don't change anything."
Seraphina felt something inside her shatter.
Her lips parted, but no words came out.
"I've spent years caring," her mother continued. "It doesn't fix anything, It doesn't make life easier, so I stopped."
She picked up her cup again.
Seraphina's vision blurred as tears spilled down her cheeks.
"So that's it?" she whispered. "You just… stopped caring about me?"
Her mother didn't answer immediately.
"You're strong enough to take care of yourself."
That was it, her mother slammed down her cup and walked out of the house slamming the door behind her
Seraphina let out a broken laugh, shaking her head as more tears fell.
"I didn't want to be strong," she said, her voice barely holding together. "I just wanted a mother."
She wiped her tears roughly, her chest aching.
She had come home to talk to her mother about some of the things going on in school but that didn't go as planned.
*****************************************************************************************************
The estate stood exactly the way it always did, cold, and quiet. Nothing about it felt lived in, not anymore.
It hadn't felt like home since his mother died.
Before then, there had been warmth. Laughter that echoed through the halls. A softness that made the place feel like home but now?
It was just walls and silence.
Damon stepped out of the car slowly, his gaze lifting to the mansion. He would have stayed back on campus if he could. He always did. School was easier and fun, but his father had insisted he come home, so he came.
The doors opened before he reached them.
"Welcome back, Master Damon," one of the maids greeted, bowing slightly.
Damon nodded faintly, already walking past. "Where's my father?"
"He hasn't returned yet, sir."
Of course. Damon didn't ask anything else.
He went upstairs, took his shower and came down for dinner.
Dinner was served on the usual long glass table, too big for one person. He ate in silence. It felt like a routine he had memorized years ago.
After dinner, he headed upstairs, then paused midway.
A sound cut through the silence, low voices, and movement from downstairs.
His father was back.
Damon stood still for a moment, then turned and made his way down the hallway instead.
He didn't knock, He pushed the office door open.
Luca De Luca stood by the desk, his back partially turned, removing his gloves with ease. He didn't look surprised. He never did.
"You're back," Luca said, his voice calm, like Damon's presence had already been accounted for.
Damon stepped in, closing the door behind him. "You called me home."
Luca set the gloves aside. "And you came."
Damon's eyes flickered briefly, not to his father's face, but to his hands.
There was blood, not much, just enough to notice.
Then the faint, metallic smell lingered beneath the scent of his father's expensive cologne.
Damon's jaw tightened slightly, but his expression didn't change.
This wasn't new. It had never been new.
His father didn't need to explain what he did. The silence around it said enough.
His father spoke before Damon could say a word.
"I heard you've been busy."
Luca sat behind the massive oak desk, his hands steepled.
Damon went still. His pulse tightened slightly in his chest.
Of course. One of his father's informants had already spoken, They always did. The confrontation at school, the girl, the book, the incident behind the building, nothing stayed hidden for long.
"She saw you," Luca said bluntly. His voice cut clean through the room. "Any witness is a liability, Damon. You know the rule."
Damon swallowed, holding his ground under his father's stare. "I wasn't certain," he said, his voice steady despite the tension building inside him. "She might not have seen anything."
Luca leaned back slowly, the corner of his lips lifting just slightly, like the answer amused him.
"It doesn't matter," he said. "You don't have the luxury of uncertainty."
His gaze hardened.
"In our world, the rule is simple. Any witness… must be eliminated."
The word settled heavily in Damon's chest.
His jaw tightened. For a brief second, her face crossed his mind—Seraphina, human in a way that didn't belong anywhere near his world.
His hand curled into a fist at his side.
"I won't act blindly," Damon said after a moment.
The firmness in his voice surprised even him. "Give me time.
"Time is what we do not have, Damon. Enemies are lurking around, looking for a weakness, just one" his father said, cold and calm.
"We can't afford the cops on our tail. If she witnessed something, she must be erased, if you are uncertain, she must be erased too, " Luca added.
"Give me time, one month. Let me confirm if she actually knows anything. If she does…" He paused, then finished quietly, "I'll handle it."
Silence followed.
Luca watched him, his expression unreadable.
Then, after a long pause, he nodded once slowly.
"One month," he said. "That is all you get."
Damon didn't move.
"One month to dig and do the needful," Luca continued. "But make no mistake…"
His eyes sharpened again, the air in the room tightening.
"If she knows even a fraction of what she saw…"
A brief pause. "It ends with her."
Damon swallowed, the weight of it settling deep in his chest.
"Do you understand?"
Damon nodded. But inside, nothing felt certain anymore.
He had one month to find the truth, or become the reason she disappears.
Damon knew the clock had started ticking because to his father, it's always business.