But what struck Riya was Mr. Kho’s expression: pure pride.
“I’m... surprised,” Mr. Kho said at last. “I hadn’t noticed.”
“Of course you didn’t.” Kian laughed darkly. “You’re barely around. You don’t ask. No one does—except Riya.”
His words weren’t meant for her, but Riya felt cut by them anyway. And beneath it, she could feel the magic stir like electricity, sparking between anger and longing.
She looked between them: father and son, standing just feet apart, yet separated by years of silence. But still reaching. Still hoping.
“I should go,” she said, eyes flicking down. “I’ve done my job.”
But before she could turn to leave, Kian stepped forward.
“Riya, wait.”
His expression had changed—brows drawn, shoulders tense. As if the act of letting her walk away physically hurt him.
“You should stay for dinner. I didn’t get to see you allday.” His suggestion was tentative, soft. “I can make you something—I’m a decent cook. Just... stay. For a bit.”
He was holding back as best he could. For her. So he wouldn’t scare her off.
Riya opened her mouth—then closed it again.
She wanted to stay.
But not like this. Not under the weight of a spell that turned longing into desperation. Not when she wasn’t sure where her feelings ended and the curse began.
And not when staying would mean wedging herself deeper into this family—into the space between a father and son who still had a chance to repair what was broken.
Mr. Kho stepped between them.
“Kian,” he said calmly, placing a hand on his son’s shoulder. “You need to let her go. I’m sure she’s tired.”
Riya stepped back, heart thudding. “I—I have a lot I still need to do.”
Mr. Kho nodded. “Next time.”
Kian didn’t speak at first. He rubbed his forehead, thumb brushing the corner of his eye, then said quietly, “Y-yeah. Okay. Next time.”
Riya paused at the door. Her gaze lingered on Kian—his shoulders drawn, his grip tightening around the notebook like a lifeline.
She’d only meant to check on him. Deliver the notebook. But the thought of leaving sat heavier than it had that morning.
Maybe this wasn’t just about the curse anymore, orfixing a mess she’d created. Penance for what she’d broken.
It was smaller. Simpler. She wanted to help because it was him.
She stepped into the dusk alone. And for the first time since learning what the curse required, her mind calmed—certain. Maybe, deep down, she’d known for a while.
Chapter 27
Riya arrived at the café first.
It was warm inside, the kind of warmth that made her eyelids heavy and the windows sweat. Outside, late-afternoon wind made tree branches dance; inside, everything smelled like espresso and cinnamon.
She’d been in seventh period when she’d noticed Kian’s text:After school. I want to talk. Just us.
No explanation. Not even an emoji.
