“Library,” Riya answered, making for the microwave.
“Working on your essay?” Amara’s voice floated in from the living room, her head popping up over the back of the couch.
If things were normal, she would be. Riya shoved the plate inside and hit the timer.
“No, just... research. Mom, have you heard anything from Sirah khala?”
Her dad glanced up.
Amara shifted slightly. A flicker of interest.
Her mom shook her head. “No, she’s still off gallivanting in Finland. You know it’s always been her dream to see the aurora. Her last email said something about a sled dog tour—but I couldn’t tell if she meant a guidewithsled dogs, or an actual dog leading her—”
“So, she’s not coming back anytime soon?”
A small, ridiculous part of her had imagined Sirah khala walking through the door, a solution to all Riya’s curse-related problems on a silver platter—without Riya having to say a single word.
But that was wishful thinking.
And for some reason, she could still hear Kian’s voicein the car, comparing the very magic that was ruining both their lives to something beautiful. And for one treacherous moment, she’d almost let herself believe him.
She was losing her mind.
Amara glanced up, mouth curling in a small smile. “Are you asking because you still need help with that hypothetical peri question?”
“Oooh, yes!” Nyra appeared at the top of the stairs, already in her lounge clothes. “Have you come up with anything?”
Their mother’s eyes lit up with curiosity. She slammed the fridge door shut, the excitement in her voice unmistakable. “What hypothetical peri question?” She turned to Riya, her hopeful gaze locking on her. “Are you... are you researching peris?”
Riya’s pulse raced.
If they knew what she’d done—how would they look at her? Would they be pleased that she’d at least tried?
Or would they be disappointed all over again?
“No!” she snapped, a little too quickly, a little too sharply. She swallowed hard. “It was just... one question. It’s nothing.”
“...Oh.” Her mom’s hopeful expression crumbled before she quickly smoothed it over again. Except Riya had already seen it: how the light had dimmed in her eyes.
Her dad, too, watched carefully now, his thick eyebrows furrowing ever so slightly.
Riya looked away. The sudden quiet in the kitchen felt like a cold draft, and the only sound was the microwave humming away, counting down.
Amara and Nyra exchanged a glance before Amara cleared her throat. This time, her smile was more measured. “Well, you know if it ever becomes... less hypothetical, you can always ask us, right?”
“I know,” said Riya, her heart still thudding hard against her ribs. “...Thanks.”
The microwave began to beep, and Riya, grateful for the interruption, removed her bowl of chicken curry.
She knew her family meant well. They always did.
But tonight, she just wanted to be left alone.
“It’s board game night,” Nyra chirped suddenly. “You should play this time, Riya. We’re debating between Anomia and Exploding Kittens.”
From the couch, their dad groaned. “Those games are too stressful. Can’t we just play Scrabble? Something normal?”
Nyra placed a gentle hand on Riya’s shoulder. “So? Are you joining?”
