"Ummm..." Edward scoffed nervously. "I don't know what you're talking about, Aunt Renee. Wh–why would you think we're hiding something?"
"Really?" Renee stepped closer, studying them. They were trying a little too hard to act calm. Her eyes dropped to the container in Edward's hands. "Give me that," she said politely—yet with authority.
Edward smirked sarcastically, stepping back and tightening his grip on the container. He could hear his heart pounding in his chest. "Why would you possibly want this container, Aunt Renee?"
Renee's stare narrowed. Edward's defiance only confirmed her suspicion. There was definitely something in that container. But what exactly? What would Edward hide from her?
Her tone hardened. "Give. Me. That... please."
It wasn't really a request anymore.
Edward stayed put. Shit, he cursed inwardly. If I give it to her, and by any chance she knows about these leaves, then we're beyond cooked. What do I do now? Oh God, now would be a great time for some kind of blessing. He felt the urge to step further back but knew that would only look more suspicious.
Seeing he wasn't budging, Renee took a step forward, ready to snatch the container herself—only for Anita to suddenly step between them, blocking her path. Before Renee could protest, a familiar voice called out.
"Renee, dear?"
It was Jenevive, from the kitchen.
All heads turned in that direction.
"Yes, Jenny!" Renee shouted back, refusing to move just yet. She wasn't done with Edward and his crew.
Jenevive appeared moments later, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "So here's where you are. I was looking for you."
Umm, I know that, Renee muttered in her head, but aloud she said, "What's up, Jenny? Need something?"
"Yes, actually, I—wait." Jenevive squinted at them, a teasing smirk tugging at her lips. "Why does it look like you guys are having some sort of cult meeting? Didn't you already tell them to get the retractable chairs from the storeroom?"
Renee flashed a plastic smile, opening her mouth to respond, but Jenevive went on.
"Oh, never mind me," Jenevive waved it off. "Sorry. It's none of my business what you're up to. But I was hoping you'd help me find the tablecloth and the barbecue sauce. I could have asked Edward, but clearly, he's still handling the chair situation."
"Oh, okay," Renee replied, glancing back at the group. "But could you wait a bit? There's still some unresolved matter I need to deal with—"
"No there isn't, Aunt Renee," Edward jumped in quickly, but with a strategically calm voice. "You can just help Mama Anita. We'll, uh, go get the chairs."
Renee gave him a long, stern look. He smiled back at her.
"Renee?" Jenevive called again, drawing her attention. "Could you please help me with the tablecloth and sauce first? The sauce is kind of urgent."
Having no other option, Renee sighed. "Okay. Let's go."
She turned and started walking with Jenevive.
The group collectively exhaled in relief.
But halfway down the hall, Renee suddenly turned sharply. "I'm watching you," she warned, pointing two fingers to her eyes, then at them.
Then she spun back around. "Wait, the other sauce is already out?" she asked Jenevive, mildly surprised.
"Yeah," Jenevive replied. "But it was barely a third full, remember?"
"Oh, I hadn't really realized though …"
Their voices faded down the corridor as they walked further away.
"Phew!" Mdachi exclaimed, wiping imaginary sweat from his forehead. "I thought she'd never go." He walked closer to Edward and Anita.
"Yeah," Edward said still staring at them. "Another reason to be grateful for Anita's mom." He gave Anita a glance.
She smiled slightly, her lips curling at the corners.
"Edward," Mdachi's tone suddenly turned serious. "Do you think she might know about…" He looked around then spoke, but in a lower tone, "the supernatural?"
"Of course she does. She's one herself," Jesse said from behind—enthusiastically loudly and without hesitation.
Edward and Mdachi both whipped around, eyes wide.
"What do you mean by that?" Edward snapped, visibly startled.
Anita marched up to Jesse and yanked his ear.
"Owwww!" Jesse cried, flinching in pain.
Anita let go. "Don't mind him, Edward. He's just talking nonsense." She glared at Jesse. "You should really learn when to be serious."
"What do you mean, don't mind—"
"What he meant," Anita cut Edward off, "is that Renee's beauty isn't natural. It's beyond that. Get it?"
"Ohhh," Mdachi said in mock realization. Then he squinted suspiciously. "Wait, but—"
"Because…" Anita folded her arms. "He kinda has a crush on Renee."
Mdachi's jaw dropped. Anita rolled her eyes.
Jesse, arms crossed, looked entirely unbothered.
Edward, on the other hand, was momentarily struck with awe before shaking it off. He pouted playfully and nodded. "Can't blame him. My aunt is divinity-level gorgeous, after all. It's not for nothing she's that successful."
"Yeah, yeah, brag on, buddy," Mdachi said sarcastically, half-rolling his eyes.
"Hey, not my fault I've got a wow-aunt, is it?" Edward teased, clearly enjoying it.
"Can we just go get the chairs already?" Anita cut in, pretending to sound annoyed but secretly amused to see Edward smiling again. "I, for one, don't want to get caught by Renee again." She shivered dramatically. "That interrogation was terrifying—I could barely breathe."
"Yeah, yeah," Edward agreed, still smiling. He scratched his head as if remembering something. "Let's go get the chairs."
The storeroom—what many would call a basement, though a rather nice one—had its door tucked beneath the staircase. As Edward turned the knob, Jesse suddenly piped up.
"Hey, whose camera is that—and what's the story behind it?"
Edward paused. He turned around. But to his surprise, Anita spoke before he could. "Not now, Jesse," she said sharply. Then she looked around. "We'll tell you about it later. Now's not the right time."
"Okay," Jesse agreed casually. "You can tell me about it later."
"Good," Edward added. "And Dachi—" he pointed at Mdachi, "make sure you delete that video this time right after we're done with these chairs. And do it somewhere clandestine, to avoid any accidents that may lead to exposés. Alright? Good. Let's go."
He hurriedly opened the door and went in first. The others followed.
"Um… what chairs are we taking again, and why are we even doing this?" Anita asked, scratching her head as she looked around the room full of brown boxes — some stacked on shelves, others scattered on the floor — along with antiques and a bunch of other things she couldn't quite classify.
The room was one Edward had once begged his mother to let him claim as his — correction, their — lair, but she'd refused. After that, Anita had lost interest in it.
"Gosh," Jesse groaned, dragging a hand down his face in exasperation. "First of all, the chairs are the wooden retractable ones — Kom-bet design, I think. Secondly, we're here to take them." He spread his arms dramatically, one brow arched in mock sarcasm.
"I know that, Jesse," Anita said, annoyed. "But what I meant was why?"
"There aren't enough chairs back there. And for an unrelated reason, this is our scapegoat from Renee, remember?"
"I only needed the first part, Jesse. Thank you so much."
"I found them!" Edward suddenly called from a corner of the room, breaking off their little sibling fight that Mdachi was enjoying.
They rushed over to him.
Edward handed the container to Anita. "Hold this," he said. She took it.
He begun hustling the folded chairs out from between the wall and a tall, fortress-like stack of boxes.
Mdachi offered to help, but Edward assured him he could manage alone.
"What do these boxes even contain, and why are there so many of them?" Anita asked, frowning as her eyes wandered across the room — almost like she was taking in a grand royal ballroom for the first time, its walls and pillars glittering with embedded jewels.
Edward paused, leaning forward on the chair in hand while resting his back against the wall. "Some I don't even know what they contain. But most are just our old stuff — things we either didn't need or want. Or just for safekeeping, in case we ever need them again." He shrugged and went back to work.
Once he'd fished out all the chairs, Edward dusted his hands.
Anita, considering the dim lighting of the room, squinted toward the far end of the space from where the chairs had been retrieved, and saw a trunk. A treasure chest kind of trunk.
It piqued her curiosity.
"You can just go upstairs, Anita," Edward said suddenly, snapping her out of her thoughts.
She blinked. "Huh? What did you say?"
Edward took her hands gently. "We'll handle this. Just go upstairs and start handling that," he said, guiding her empty hand to rest over the container, sandwiching it between both. "I assume you know how to handle them."
She did. Her mother had explained it to her.
"We'll join you in a few," Edward added with a small smile. He patted her hand. "Go."
Anita blinked, then nodded. "Okay." She turned and left.
---
Setting the sufuria on the grate, Anita pressed the knob and turned it. A blue flame ignited from the burner ports and licked the sufuria's base.
She stared into it — blankly watching the small leaves floating in the water. Her gaze locked on one particular leaf. It drifted softly before bumping into a cluster of others and stopping.
The mchawi majani were peculiar leaves — wedge-shaped with a sharp midrib edge, their apexes coiling inward, and their verdant green lamina patterned with dark smooth lines that made them look effortlessly alive.
"Anita!" Edward shouted after calling her name severally.
Anita jolted out of her daze and looked around — then saw Edward standing close to the door. He had just come from the backyard.
"Yes? Yes? Umm… what's up, Edu?"
Edward approached her and gently placed his hands on her shoulders. He stared into her still distant eyes before guiding her to sit on one of the island stools.
"What's up? Are you okay?" he asked, worry clear on his face. "You seem… off."
Anita closed her eyes then shook her head slightly. Once done, she looked up at Edward "I'm okay, Edward," she said smiling. She stood up. "No need to worry."
She started toward the cooker, but Edward stopped her midway with a hand on her shoulder. He stepped in front of her.
"Are you sure, Nits?" His voice softened. It was the first time he'd ever called her that.
Anita playfully brushed his hand off. "I'm fine, baby boy," she said, leaning casually on the worktop. "Now quit worrying, will you? There. Is. Nothing. Wrong... Comprendé, monsieur?"
"Okay, but if you ever want to talk about it, Anita, I'm here." Edward's tone was gentle, but he meant it. He knew her too well — and her calling him baby boy only confirmed his suspicion. Anita usually said that when she was either sassily confident or quietly anxious.
She groaned. "Ugh, you're so stubborn, Edward."
Edward smiled at that, not persisting any further.
She straightened up and walked to the cooker. The water was boiling like a volcano now. She turned the knob off.
"Mmm," Edward hummed, delighted by the fresh, minty, herbal fragrance filling the room. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, exhaling in satisfaction.
When he opened them, Anita had already sieved the water into a glass jug.
He leaned in, trying to sniff the rising steam — only to have Anita block his face with her hand. He froze mid-motion, a comically awkward look on his face.
Anita covered her mouth, holding back laughter. But his expression was too priceless — she couldn't help bursting into giggles.
"Seriously," Edward said, feigning annoyance.
"What?" Anita grinned.
"That was not cool," Edward said like a pouting child, folding his arms and looking away. "You startled the shit out of me. I thought..." he sighed, "I don't even know what I thought when I felt something stop my face like that. All I know is that you startled me, and putting your hand like that on someone's face ain't cool, bruh."
Anita calmed her laughter. "Oh really? Then go ahead — do what you were about to do. See what happens."
"Why?" Edward eyed her suspiciously, still pouting. "What'll happen?"
"They say experience is the best teacher, don't they?" Anita gestured toward the jug. "Come be taught."
No way inhaling that steam can do anything to me, Edward thought. I mean, it is the mchawi majani, but that fragrance... it just smells too good to be dangerous, right? She's... she's definitely bluffing.
Without hesitation, he bent forward and took a long sniff.
"See," he said smugly. "Nothi—"
He didn't finish. He stumbled backward, dizzy all of a sudden.
Anita caught him just in time. "See? Can't say I didn't warn you." She bit back a chuckle.
"Wow!" Edward exclaimed, shaking his head to clear it.
When clarity returned, Anita released him.
"It was as if I was rolling for a second there," he said, blinking rapidly.
"Yep. Now you know not to do that again. I used tongs to handle those leaves — couldn't risk touching them."
"But… it smells so nice."
"Well, bad things usually come coated in good, don't they?"
"Yeah, I guess. They do."
"So that's how they work?" Edward asked, still astonished by how that little sniff had just affected him.
"I think, yeah," Anita agreed, though not so sure. "But you do remember my mom told us that once a witch, or warlock, injests it they completely lose their energy afterwards."
"Yeah. Didn't know that dizziness was part of the package. Men, my head was spinning."
"Yeah, well, what can I say? More definitely goes on than seen on the outside," Anita said, glancing around. "Now, where can I find those small elegant teacups?"
Edward opened a cabinet. "Here they are." He took out three cups and their saucers.
"Why three?" Anita asked.
"Mdachi requested a portion for his mom," Edward explained.
Anita gave him a blank look.
"He just wants to make sure…" Edward fidgeted with his fingers. "That his mom is… normal."
"Hey." Anita reached out, cupping his cheek gently. "Wrong choice of words, dummy." She brushed a finger on his cheek. "This is normal, okay?"
"Yeah," Edward said, sitting on a stool and looking down. "I just find it hard — the fact that I've been like this all my life," he looked at his hands, "and never knew. It's not normal to have parents — or a parent — who could hide something this crucial from you. Why? Why do that?"
Anita moved closer and took his hand. He looked up at her.
"I'm sorry, Edward," she said softly. "I know your life has spun into a whole new axis in such a short time. I'm still trying to accept it myself. But maybe — and most likely — your parent had a good reason for keeping it from you."
Edward squeezed her hand gently. "I hope so," he said, hope glimmering in his eyes. "Because now, I'm about to find the truth out."
"Yes, speaking of which," Anita pointed to the jug. "We need to pour every adult a cup — except my mom." She turned to find Edward's gaze already fixed on her, unwavering. "To avoid any suspicion," she added, trying to keep her composure.
"Why are you staring at me like that?" she finally asked, blushing.
"Because I can't believe that the supernatural is real," he said quietly. "That I'm part of it… and so is my very loving, caring, and sometimes unbearable best friend."
"Oh, so sometimes I'm—"
Before she could finish, Edward pulled her into a hug.
He was still seated; she was standing.
"I love you, Anita," he murmured into the hug. "Thanks for everything you've done for me. Not many people would."
Recovering from the shock, Anita hugged him back, resting her chin on his fluffy hair. "I love you too, Edu."