everything is not what it seems

Ever since last night, Idris had a knot in his stomach he couldn’t untie.

“For a human who’s just been in a demon domain,” he muttered under his breath, watching from the shadows of the corridor, “she doesn’t have a single scratch.”

Don’t get him wrong—he was beyond relieved that they found Tamera. The woman meant a lot to this family. And he felt sick over what the First Spear had to give up to bring her back. If he could trade his right arm to heal her, he would do it in a heartbeat. But Tamera… something about her just didn’t sit right.

The moment he hugged her, it was like holding a mannequin—stiff, unfamiliar. No warmth. No scent of lilac and sandalwood like before. Nobody else seemed to notice, too caught up in their emotions. Overjoyed she was alive, safe, returned to them. He didn’t want to kill the moment with his suspicions, but…

He chewed his bottom lip. “How did she survive outside the White?” he whispered to himself. “No human’s ever made it back from the demon plains alive. You’d have to be dead. Or something… else.”

A voice in his mind whispered, what if she’s not human anymore?

He shook it off. “Now’s not the time,” he thought. “Not here. Not yet.”

But he couldn’t stop watching her. Every movement. Every breath.

Tamera stood just ahead of him in the corridor, perfectly still. Too still.

Then she turned.

“Good morning, Idris,” she said smoothly, without a hint of fatigue or emotion. “I didn’t know you were standing there.”

Idris froze. That voice. Not cold. But calculated. Polished. Not the Tamera he remembered.

Charlene, standing beside him, blinked in surprise. How long has she been there? she thought. She hadn’t sensed her approach. Hadn’t heard her footsteps. And then it struck her.

That was the second strange thing in two days.

The first? Tamera had called her “Charlene” yesterday. Not baby girl. Not sweetheart. Not even “you.” Only one person in the world called her Charlene—and it wasn’t her mother.

She tried to push it away. “I’m just being paranoid,” she told herself.

But then they entered the kitchen.

The hounds were on their feet instantly, snarling, snapping, growling from deep within their chests. Their golden eyes blazed, teeth bared.

“Bark! Bark! Bark!”

Argun snapped to attention, raising both hands. “Cease!” he commanded. The hounds froze mid-growl, dropping to their haunches. “Stay,” he added firmly. Then he turned, gesturing for them to enter. He closed the portal behind them with a sharp flick.

Tamera stepped forward without flinching. Not a twitch of fear. Not even curiosity.

“Neat trick,” she said. Her voice didn’t waver. She smiled.

Argun raised a brow. “I’m Argun,” he said slowly, bowing his head with grace.

“My name is Tamera,” she replied with the same smooth tone. “I didn’t get a chance to thank you the other day.”

“My pleasure.” Argun didn’t usually talk much. But something about her made him even more cautious.

Charlene smiled brightly. “Good morning, Mom! You want some breakfast?”

She was already mixing eggs in a large bowl, moving quickly, focused. She’d prepared potatoes with peppers and onions, bacon and sausage links, buttered toast, biscuits with apple butter and blueberry jam—all of Tamera’s favorites.

“I made cranberry juice, extra ice,” Charlene said, placing the glass gently on the table. “Just how you like it.”

Seth pulled out a chair and tapped the back of it. “Come on, sit down. We saved a seat just for you.”

Tamera sat.

But when the plate was set in front of her, she recoiled like it was poison.

“No, thanks,” she said abruptly, shoving it away with the back of her hand.

Charlene blinked. “Oh—okay.”

Tamera tried to recover. “I mean… I’m not really hungry. I’ll just drink the juice.” She forced a smile and picked up the glass.

The moment the juice hit her tongue, her expression changed. She spat it out with disgust, sputtering it across the floor.

“What is this foul concoction?” she barked. “Yuck!”

She scraped at her tongue with her fingers, gagging. “Ugh! That’s revolting. I’ve lost my appetite.”

She shoved the chair back and stormed out of the kitchen without another word.

Silence filled the room. Charlene and Seth stood with mouths slightly open, staring at each other.

Argun broke the tension.

“Oh well,” he muttered, raising an eyebrow. “What crawled up her butt?”

He looked down at the table and rubbed his hands together. “More food for me. Somebody hand me a fork, please?”

Charlene, dazed, wordlessly gathered utensils and placed them near him.

Professor E, Betsy, Baxtsy, and Tabatha wandered in, drawn by the smell.

“Mmm, it smells amazing in here,” Tabatha said, peeking over Charlene’s shoulder.

“Sit down, we’ve got enough for everyone!” Charlene said, regaining her composure.

“I’ll help set the table,” Tabatha offered, grabbing plates and cups, moving quickly to help.

Seth leaned against the wall, staring off, deep in thought. He finally set his coffee down and crossed the kitchen. He kissed Charlene on the forehead. “I’ll be back in a bit,” he murmured, and walked out.

Charlene placed the eggs at the center of the table. “Oh, I almost forgot—”

“Okay, what is this!” Idris and Issa entered the kitchen, glistening with sweat after a morning workout.

Charlene reappeared with a giant bowl of creamy grits, topped with shredded cheese and steaming shrimp.

“I’ll take that,” Issa said, grinning, taking the bowl from her arms.

“Everything looks incredible,” he said. His eyes lingered on hers. She blushed and smiled.

Professor E elbowed Tabatha. “He gets it from me.”

“You were always a sly dog,” she teased, grinning.

Dr. Gillead entered with a booming voice. “Looks like I got here just in time. Good morning, everyone!”

No one even had time to answer before he sat down.

“Question,” Idris asked, “how do you even eat shrimp and cheese grits?”

“Like this, unc,” Charlene said with a smirk. “Grits in the bowl, a little butter or sugar or salt—or all three—then shrimp, then cheese. Build it how you like.”

Everyone held out their bowls immediately.

Charlene served them all with joy.

Argun had a mouth full of potatoes. “Yes, please,” he mumbled, holding out his bowl too.

The twins didn’t understand the hype. They reached into their mom’s bowl with their fingers, stuffing bread and shrimp in their mouths.

“Girls, stop that!” Professor E said. “You’re making a mess—”

Too late. Shrimp juice dripped down Betsy’s chin.

“Sorry, Mommy,” she said, giggling, licking her lips.

Charlene smiled but couldn’t shake the feeling crawling up her spine.

This was supposed to be a celebration. A welcome home.

But the woman who walked out of that kitchen... didn’t feel like her mother.

Not at all.