Dahlia sat in front of Sister Agnes, the nun that had been in charge of the orphanage for as long as she could remember.
She had made the journey with Julia all the way down to the orphanage, because this was where her story began; she had no recollection of her past except for the day she was brought here.
Sister Agnes's face has been wrinkled with age, but she still looked alright for her age. Dahlia couldn't remember much about the old nun, but Sister Agnes had been capable, not necessarily kind or wicked; she was just there, but the woman had always given her this distant look, like she didn't belong.
"What prompts you to come back to inquire about your past after eight years?" The elderly woman asked, her expression guarded while throwing a look at Julia, who stood behind Dahlia.
"Mother, she's not a stranger; she's been an integral part of my life since I left here," Dahlia explained. "Her name is Julia."
"Nice to meet you," Julia smiled at the woman, who just stared at her before nodding in acknowledgment, and then she handed Dahlia her file.
Dahlia opened the file, and Julia bent over to check the documents, picking up a picture of Dahlia when she was first brought to the orphan.
"Oooouuu, how cute, you have always looked magical," Julia said before dropping the picture, and Sister Agnes coughed as Julia said the word "magical" while making the sign of the cross, but Julia ignored her.
There was nothing in the file except the pictures, a possible date of birth, and the man's signature.
"Mother, there is nothing in this file about my life before I was brought here."
"That was because you don't have one; your story began only when you got here." The woman said stoically, and Julia exchanged a look with Dahlia.
"Alright, but can you please tell us about the man who owns this signature, the man who brought Dahlia to this place?" Julia inquired, showing the signature to the woman like she does not understand.
The woman was silent for a while, her eyes closed, but she opened her eyes to stare at them before replying.
"You'll find him at the Beacon Hills Police Department; his name was Jacob Malcolm. I hope you'll find what you seek." And that was the close of the conversation as Dahlia handed the file back to the old woman.
~~~~
New York City
The Floral Fantasy _ 8pm
Kayla walked the length of the empty flower shop; everyone else had left, but she had stayed behind, promising to close up.
There is something strange going on, starting with the visit of Valendy and his look-alike, and now her two bosses have been gone for days.
She had never known Dahlia to miss coming to work, and her boss had never been sick before; in four years of working with Dahlia, she had never caught her boss with the flu.
Which means something sinister must be going on, and she couldn't ignore her gut feeling that it is something she should know.
Now, she walked silently to Dahlia's office, and although she had put out the lights, she knew the place like the back of her hand.
Thirty minutes of searching the office and going through files and documents turned up nothing. Kayla was frustrated, but she already had a plan B.
She had been planning this since Dahlia stopped coming to shop, so she retrieved the magnetic voice transmitter and stuck it under Dahlia's table right where she wouldn't ever think to look.
Now, she can listen in on whatever is going on in that office, giving herself a little pat on the back for a job well done. She stepped out of the shop and locked up.
Kayla had hardly taken two steps away from the shop when someone spoke from the darkness, "And why are you leaving work so late?"
The voice was so unexpected and deep that Kayla jumped in horror at the voice.
"Who are you? What do you want?" Kayla asked, her voice shaking with fright, as she raised her bag as a defense mechanism, but she saw no one.
She was about to collapse in fear when a hand, fast as lightning, shot out and grabbed her wrists, bag and all, pulling her into the dark corner beside the shop.
"And what do you think that bag will do against me?" Tristan whispered into her ear before biting gently on her lobe.
Kayla shivered with delight as the voice registered in her brain, and she looked up to see his blue eyes and tempting red lips.
"You scared me," Kayla whispered, enjoying the friction of their bodies against each other. She felt her skin tingling with delight, and liquid fire pooled at her lower belly.
"Which is why you shouldn't be walking at night; you should have closed earlier," Tristan said in reply, his hand tracing the line of her jaw down to her neck and stopping right at the swell of her breast.
"I...I forgot something," Kayla lied, having a hard time keeping up with the conversation because of his hands.
"Alright, I'll take you home," Tristan said and stepped away from her, collecting her small bag and leading her to his car.
"Thank you," Kayla whispered, wondering if she's not making a mistake, as he could be a serial killer for all she knows.
Tristan opened the door for her and waited till she got in, closing the door, and then he leaned into the window.
"Don't worry, I'm not a serial killer." When he said this, Kayla blushed, wondering if her thought was that apparent. Then, Tristan walked over to the driver side, and they zoomed off into the night.
All the while, Zuriel watched the scene from his perch on a building across from the shop; he knew he should tell his brother that the lady is not the witch, but it has nothing to do with him.
In fact, the sooner Damien was able to win the witch's heart, the better for all of them.
He was only here to see her and satisfy his curiosity, but he hadn't seen anyone who has that kind of energy for the two days he had been coming.
But what he knew was that the lady his brother had just left with is just a human female.