Chapter 2 A view of the past

The sun had begun its slow descent, painting the sky in soft hues of orange and pink. The small apartment where Isla, Eleanor, and Lucian lived was filled with the comforting aroma of home-cooked food. It was a rare evening when all three of them were together, free from school, work, or other responsibilities.

Eleanor was in the kitchen, stirring a pot of stew, her sleeves rolled up as she hummed a familiar tune. Isla sat at the dining table, flipping through some notes from her classes, her brows slightly furrowed in concentration. Meanwhile, Lucian, now sixteen, leaned against the counter, scrolling through his phone with mild disinterest.

"You know, you could help set the table instead of standing there looking like a lost puppy," Eleanor teased, glancing over her shoulder at Lucian.

Lucian smirked, placing his phone down. "I was just waiting for you to ask nicely, Aunt Eleanor."

"You should be offering," Isla chimed in, giving him a pointed look before returning to her notes.

Lucian chuckled and got to work, pulling out plates and setting them neatly on the small dining table. "You know, Mom, you spend so much time buried in those books. I swear, sometimes I think you love them more than me."

Isla glanced up with an amused smile. "If that were true, I'd have left you with Eleanor and moved to another country by now."

Eleanor laughed, giving Isla a knowing look. "Don't tempt her. She might just do it one day."

Lucian shook his head with mock offense. "Wow. My own family plotting against me."

They all settled around the table, the warmth of the meal and the shared laughter making their tiny apartment feel like the safest place in the world. Despite the struggles they had faced, moments like this reminded them that they were a family-imperfect, but unbreakable.

Eleanor, as the eldest, was the anchor. She had taken on responsibilities far beyond what was expected of her, making sure both Isla and Lucian never felt alone. She was strong-willed, protective, and fiercely independent, but she also had a quiet softness that only those closest to her could see.

Isla, on the other hand, was determined and ambitious. Though life had thrown challenges her way, she refused to be defined by them. She was serious when it came to her studies, but at home, she let herself relax, finding comfort in the company of her son and sister.

Lucian was the balance between them-a mix of his mother's intelligence and his aunt's sharp wit. He had a quiet confidence, the kind that made people listen when he spoke. He was observant, sometimes too much for his own good, and had a way of reading between the lines even when no one was speaking.

The Beginning of Lucian

Lucian was born into a world of quiet resilience and unspoken pain. His mother, Isla, had carried him with a mixture of love and sorrow, determined to give him the life he deserved despite the circumstances of his conception. Raised by both Isla and her older sister, Eleanor, Lucian grew up surrounded by warmth, even though shadows of the past loomed over them.

From an early age, Lucian was sharp, observant, and driven. His mother had never spoken much about his father, and he learned not to ask. He saw the flicker of pain in her eyes whenever the subject arose, so he buried his curiosity. What mattered to him was the unwavering love of the two women who had sacrificed so much for him.

Despite their modest lifestyle, Isla and Eleanor made sure Lucian had access to a good education. They instilled in him the values of hard work and integrity, teaching him that one's circumstances did not define their future.

But fate has a way of unraveling buried secrets.

As they ate, Eleanor turned to Isla. "So, how was school today?"

Isla sighed, rubbing her forehead. "Exhausting. I had back-to-back lectures, and one of my professors is impossible to please."

"You'll manage," Eleanor said, giving her an encouraging smile. "You always do."

Lucian, chewing on a piece of bread, looked between them. "And how about you, Aunt Eleanor? Any updates at work?"

Eleanor exhaled. "Same old. Deadlines, annoying clients, and coworkers who think I have superpowers."

Lucian smirked. "I mean, you kind of do."

Eleanor rolled her eyes but smiled nonetheless.

The conversation continued, flowing naturally, as it always did. The world outside might have been unpredictable, but in this small apartment, surrounded by each other, there was a sense of stability-one they all held onto tightly.

Because no matter what secrets the past held or what the future would bring, they would always have each other. As they laughed and continued their meal, a sudden knock on the door silenced them. It wasn't the usual friendly tap of a neighbor or a delivery-this one was firm, deliberate, almost urgent.

Eleanor exchanged a glance with Isla, her instincts immediately on high alert. Lucian, sensing the shift in the air, set down his fork.

"Are we expecting someone?" Isla asked cautiously.

Eleanor shook her head. "No."

Another knock-louder this time.

Lucian stood up. "I'll get it."

But just as he reached for the doorknob, a deep, unfamiliar voice from the other side sent a chill down their spines.

"I know you're in there."