The evening air clung heavy with heat as Ariv walked into the house. His pulse was steady, but his mind burned like a storm. There were no greetings, no small talk. He dropped his bag and locked eyes with his mother.
"Mom…" His voice was sharp, cutting through the hum of ceiling fans.
"What do you know about Kalarak?"
The sound of a spoon hitting the plate shattered the calm. It slipped from her fingers, clattering on the floor like an alarm bell no one wanted to hear.
She stood still for a moment, her back stiff, then turned slowly. Her face was composed, but her eyes betrayed the weight of a secret carried too long.
"Where… did you hear that name?"
Ariv stepped forward, his fists tight.
"I didn't hear it. I saw them. Fought them." His jaw clenched as words fell like iron. "And I know you're hiding something. About them. About me."
Silence thickened like smoke. The ticking of the wall clock grew louder with every second.
Finally, his mother spoke, her voice low and trembling, but resolute.
"I prayed this day would never come." She walked past him, closed the main door, and locked it with a soft click. Then she faced him again, her expression stripped of every comforting mask.
"Ariv… sit down."
He didn't move.
"No. Tell me now."
Her gaze didn't falter.
"Fine." She inhaled deeply, as if drawing strength from somewhere far beyond this room.
"It's time you know the full truth."
The words slammed into Ariv harder than any Kalarak ever could. Every nerve in his body tensed, every question roaring louder in his skull.
What truth? About the locket? The attacks? His father?
And why did it feel like his life—everything he believed—was about to shatter?