THE SCENT OF LAVENDER AND LIES

Yasmine’s POV

The staff at the hospital all worked their way around Francis, treating him urgently, and in almost an hour, we were free to leave.

“A-are you sure we can leave now? I mean, are you sure there’s nothing else wrong with him?” I asked and the doctor shook his head in rebuttal.

“We’ve carried out a scan, x-ray, and every other test that might be needed, but he’s fine,” the doctor said, and I nodded, thanking him profusely before turning to Francis.

“What happened, Yasmine? I thought I died,” he asked, and I stepped closer, taking a seat beside his bed, holding his hands in mine.

“Yes, we’re fine. We had an accident, but we survived by a miracle,” I said, and he stared at me for a while before he looked back at the hospital.

I could feel the sneer of the devil behind me at the mention of the miracle, but it wasn’t important, he wasn’t going to come back…

“Let’s go home, shall we?” Francis said.

I nodded, helping Francis up carefully. He winced a little but managed to stand, leaning on me as we made our way out of the hospital.

The car ride was quiet—almost too quiet. Francis kept staring out the window, lost in thought, and I didn’t push him to talk. We both needed time to process everything; the near-death experience wasn’t something to shake off easily either.

When we finally pulled into the driveway of our house, something felt… off. The lights were on, and the front door was slightly ajar.

“Did you leave it open?” Francis asked, his voice still hoarse.

I shook my head slowly. “No. I locked it this morning before we left,”

I pushed the door open carefully, my thoughts racing to different ends; the thoughts of whether or not the devil had come to take his so-called dues filled my mind as I opened the door fully, instantly hit by the familiar scent of lavender and something baking.

That’s when I saw her—my sister, Aileen, standing in the living room like she owned the place. She wore one of my old sweaters, and her eyes lit up the moment she saw us.

“Oh my God, Francis!” she exclaimed.

Before I could say a word, Aileen ran past me and threw her arms around him, and I froze in shock

She hugged him tightly, her arms clinging just a little too long—longer than what seemed appropriate, even considering the circumstances. But Francis didn’t pull away, probably too stunned himself.

I blinked the thought away. It’s because of the accident, I told myself. She’s just worried. That’s all.

I forced a smile and closed the door behind me. “Didn’t expect to see you here, Aileen,” I said calmly, hanging my keys on the hook.

She finally pulled back from Francis, brushing her hair behind her ear and offering me a sheepish grin. “I came to check on you. When I heard what happened, I panicked, even harder when you weren’t answering your phone.”

“That’s because I was in the hospital,” I said flatly, walking past her into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water. I needed something cold to ground me. My hands trembled just slightly, but I kept them hidden.

Behind me, I could still hear them talking—her voice soft, his lower, distant. I pressed the bottle against my lips and took a long drink.

It’s nothing, I reminded myself again. He’s all mine. This isn’t something to overthink.

Still, I couldn’t shake the way her hands lingered on his arm and the sheepish smile on her face as she pulled her hair behind her ears.

“No, it’s nothing, don’t overthink it, Yasmine,” I muttered to myself, taking another long drink of the water.

I walked back outside to Aileen and Francis, closely talking to each other, and I stood by the kitchen door, staring at the closeness between them.

“Sis,” Aileen called, noticing my presence in the room.

“You have work to go to tomorrow, right?” She asked, but I shook my head in response.

“I was going to take a leave to take care of Francis tomorrow, I can't just leave him alone after the accident,” I replied, watching her face.

“Aileen was offering to stay home and take care of me tomorrow,” Francis cut in, and I turned at Aileen questioningly.

“Is it?...”

“Yes, I offered to help stay at home tomorrow. I’ve no job to do, and I didn’t want you to miss a day’s job,” she said, wrapping her hands around mine.

A small feeling of ease crept into me as I stared at the platonic warmth in her eyes. Maybe I really was just overthinking things.

“Thanks,” I said, forcing a smile. “That’s thoughtful of you.”

She nodded eagerly, still holding my hands. “Of course. You’ve been through enough already. Let me do something helpful for once.”

Francis gave a small smile too, his eyes meeting mine briefly before shifting away. That fleeting moment, as calm as it was, unsettled something in me. Still, I wasn’t blind. I saw how comfortable she was around him. Too comfortable, but what harm could there be? After all, we were all family.

Aileen was my sister and I trusted not only her but Francis as well, a little too much that I could bet my life on the fact that I was the one overthinking things.

“Alright then,” I said, flashing them a small harmless smile. I turned to leave into the kitchen; I really was the one overthinking things, but the thought of the devil that helped revive Francis a few hours ago replayed in my mind.

“I kept my end of the deal, Yasmine. When the time comes… I’ll come for my you.”

I shook my head and walked into the kitchen to distract myself, but the words echoed like the voice of the devil in my head.

No matter how hard I tried to push them away, they clung to me—like smoke, like shadows. I opened the fridge, grabbed a carton of juice, and poured myself a glass with trembling hands.

Behind me, I could hear them laughing…

Aileen’s laugh was light, familiar, warm. But in that moment, it grated against my nerves. I clenched the counter for balance, the juice untouched in my hand. Maybe it was the exhaustion. Maybe it was the trauma from the accident. Or maybe it was just the devil’s whisper still lodged in my ears.

I took a long breath and forced myself to calm down.

They were just talking. I had to stop looking for things that weren’t there.

By the time I returned to the living room, Aileen was setting the pillows on the couch, and Francis was already easing himself down onto it.

“I’ll make him some soup,” she said cheerfully, as if she’d always belonged here.

“That’s… nice,” I replied, watching her carefully. “But I can do it.”

“No, let me. Just rest, okay? You’ve done more than enough today.”

There it was again—that same warmth. The sister I grew up with. The one who braided my hair and sang lullabies to me when we were little. I couldn’t let suspicion taint that, not without cause.

Still… something in me whispered otherwise.

As I walked past her to grab my phone from the table, I noticed her hand—grazing Francis’s shoulder for just a second too long again. He didn’t flinch. He didn’t even notice.

But I did.

And for the first time in years, I felt a quiet, unfamiliar pang of something that scared me more than the devil’s threat.

Doubt.

I clenched my jaw and turned away.

No. I was not going to let this spiral, I wouldn’t jump to conclusions. I had enough on my plate already—starting with keeping Francis alive… and keeping the devil away when he came for his due.

Because he would.

And when that time came, I needed to be ready.

Even if it meant facing a truth I wasn’t prepared for.