CHAPTER 14: THE QUIET BEFORE

The next day, pushing all thoughts to the back of her mind, Anneliese spent her time resting and enjoying the peaceful presence of her family—as if it were her last day free from chaos.

Everything felt unusually pleasant to her eyes. She watched her mother braiding her sister’s hair, while her father scattered grains for the birds in the backyard. The thought of being adopted suddenly crept into her mind, and the soft smile on her lips slowly faded.

Noticing the sadness in his daughter’s eyes, Edmond walked over to where Anneliese sat. Taking a seat beside her, he spoke gently,

"Ann, do you remember—when you were little, maybe five or six—you used to spend all your time here in the backyard, playing with birds? Whenever it rained, you’d stand at the backdoor or by the window and ask, ’Where are the birds? Why aren’t they home? They’ll catch a cold if they get wet in the rain.’"

A faint smile curved his lips as he continued,

"And then one day, you came to me and asked if we could build a home for the birds in the backyard. I chuckled at the idea, but then explained to you, ’Nature made birds to be free—to fly wherever they want. The whole world is their home, and keeping them in a cage is not their destiny.’"

"You understood my words, even though you were so small. That made me proud. And then, the next day, I saw you at the farm making nests for the birds. When I asked, ’What are you doing, Ann?’ you looked up at me with those big blue eyes full of excitement and said, ’I’m making a home for the birds where they won’t feel trapped. They can rest here—and leave whenever they want to fly around the world.’"

Edmond smiled at the memory, his voice softening.

"Since then, no matter what the problem was, you always found your own way to solve it."

He paused before continuing.

"I’m telling you this because the other night, you said something was bothering you. I’m not going to ask what it is—you must have your own reasons for keeping it to yourself. But remember, Ann, you’ve always found your path. You’ll find your way this time too."

Anneliese smiled at her father’s words and exhaled slowly, nodding.

He added quietly,

"There’s one thing you should know now. You are a destined child, my dear. Life may not be easy for you, but know this—I’ve always loved you as Adlina, and I will always protect you."

Her brows furrowed. "Why are you saying this, Papa? I know you adore me and would always protect me. But... what do you mean by destined child?"

With a faint, sad smile, Edmond replied,

"Just as you have your reasons, I have mine. And this is the most I can say for now."

Pausing briefly, he added,

"Believe that with time, life will unfold itself. You’ll find the answers you’re searching for."

Anneliese didn’t press further. She simply nodded and rose to her feet.

"Come on, Papa. Let’s cook something for dinner."

Smiling, he got up with her. Informing his wife that they’d take care of dinner tonight, father and daughter headed to the kitchen.

Later that evening, after dinner, Anneliese sat with her family in the drawing room in front of the fireplace. When her parents retired to their room, Ann and Adlina went to lock the doors before heading to their bedroom.

Changing into her nightdress and picking up a book to read, Ann settled at the wooden table near the window. After reading for nearly an hour, she closed the book and looked outside.

"You are a destined child." Her father’s words echoed in her mind.

What does that mean? she wondered. Does Papa know about the Book of Spells? About my connection to it?

Another thought crossed her mind: I should talk to Mr. Enzo about this... ask him if I should tell Papa what I’m experiencing, and about the Book.

A movement outside caught her eye. A black cat sat at the window, staring at her. Startled out of her thoughts, she turned away from the glass, but then looked back—the cat was still there.

She sighed, rose from her chair, and opened the window.

"Come inside. It gets cold out here at night."

The cat didn’t move at first—just stared at her in that unnerving, almost knowing way. Then, after a moment, it jumped onto the table inside.

Anneliese fetched a small blanket from her closet and spread it on the table. The cat curled up immediately.

Smiling faintly, she got into bed, casting one last glance at the feline now resting peacefully.

Breathing out slowly, she closed her eyes.

As her eyes fluttered shut, a strange hush fell over the room — heavier than sleep, deeper than silence. The warmth of the hearth still lingered, but something inside her stirred. A soft pull beneath her ribs.

"Something’s changing," she thought. Not just around her — but within. The night felt too still, as if the world was holding its breath.

And for the first time in days, the Book didn’t whisper. But the quiet felt louder than ever.