Romans & histoires I Thought It Was A Common Possession Spoilers

Why did my stomach churn when I thought about it? Why was I second-guessing myself? “What if,” I said carefully, “Someone didn’t cast it to use?” She frowned at me. “Explain.” “What if someone planted it?” I asked. “Hidden it. To be found. And not triggered.” Maeve leaned into the table, eyebrows quirking in curiosity. “Testing the waters?” I shook my head. Because what I thought wasn’t reassuring. Hell, I didn’t think it was a coincidence that someone placed down a charm with zero signature. Didn’t think it was a coincidence that it was similar to something the Interregnum tried mere weeks ago.

And to think Dmitri, my loyal dog, was stealing scraps from my table. A possessive fury gripped me. Everything that was Tristan was mine. I didn’t share. I never had. I wasn’t about to start now. I heard Tristan voice one last time. "I’m going to take a quick shower. I'm all sweaty after finishing that thing. It's so hot."

Wendigo sounded normal which got me scared, what does he mean by something I have? "but, it's too bad it's no longer in your possession but another"He continues, my mind could only lead me to one thing or rather a person and that was Audrey. She is the only possession I had and is no longer mine. " Audrey? " I blurt out. I heard him chuckle in satisfaction, " so smart, " he compliment, " but brainless " his satisfied tone was as though he will destroy me in a blink of an eye. " B-but, she is no longer with me, " I stutter. My heart never stops leaping in my chest as I stare at nothing, sweat dripping down my face.

'Is something really stolen? It was normal for him to think that no one would come and rob from this tomb. The tomb chamber near the docks didn't seem like a place one would store treasures or personal belongings with. Those were only names and probably the urns of ashes of the dead. "Who in the right mind would steal a jar of dead people's ashes?" Jai whispered to himself. "Precisely, Jai. Who would do that?" Teacher Sora muttered. Jai closed his lips and sweat dropped. He accidentally said his thoughts loudly.

Was all I said staring ahead as though I’d found one of the biggest puzzle pieces I could, but once again my comment seemed to confuse each other person sat in the room with me. “What are you talking about?” Tristan asked from across the room also not seeming to remember the one thing our parents gave us to keep, and I choose to keep it in my favourite item at the time. “I think I’ve just found our parents.” The next vague comment left my lips but this time, even more shock looked back at me. The answer had been under our noses the entire time.

She looked as perplexed as I felt. My mouth fell open. Recorded? I reached into my satchel, my fingers searching blindly. And there they were. Two plain, cold iron spoons. How on earth did those get in there? I looked at the guard, who was now looking even more uncomfortable, then at Mrs. Gable, my face hot with confusion and a strange sense of disbelief. I hadn't meant to take them. I didn't even remember seeing them properly. This was so bizarre. A heavy silence hung in the air. The guard, looking deeply uncomfortable, cleared his throat. "Your Highness," he began hesitantly, "I… I understand this looks… unusual. Perhaps we could discuss this privately?"

He examined it for hours, and then said something that chilled us to the bone: “This kind of soil could only form after centuries of natural evolution. It’s impossible for it to have developed like this in just a few days.” Edgar insists it’s coincidence. That belief creates results. But I don’t believe it. Worse still, I’ve started noticing that some items from the vault are missing. Not blatantly so— but in subtle, hazy ways. Like I could swear there used to be a small green dagger in the corner. Now—nothing. No holes.

I wanted to kiss her so bad, but this is not a good time. It would be too fast, maybe she might push me away again. Let me give her time. I squeezed her hand lightly before walking away to join the guys. We searched around the house thoroughly, trying to find anything that could lead us to him. We found a few lockers and broke it open, he had some cash and gold stacked in there. Which I'm probably sure isn't his. He's known for taking things that aren't his. We also found some very disturbing footage of him unaliving people. Looks like he kept them like they were his trophies, like little accomplishments.

But it's like an internal war going between what I want and what I should and like some otherworldly force takes over me—I whisper, "I'll think about it." Recklessly the words leave my mouth in the form of a bullet being fired from a gun, too deadly, too fast, and most likely to cause unrepairable damage. "The offer stays on the table for two days and then it's gone. So think carefully." With that, a beep sounds signifying the call has ended. Resigned, my feet carry me to where I originally kept the phone hidden and I bury it again. Stupid Nicole. Chanting those words again and again in my brain, I walk downstairs to cook dinner for my husband and the unwanted guest upstairs.

A few more minutes passed before she finally wrapped things up and marched straight over to the table where I was sitting. “Can you believe it? Did they really think I wouldn’t notice they used white sugar in my drink? And then they go, ‘Oh, we ran out, so we had no choice. ’ Yeah right.” I just shook my head as she went off another rant. “Don’t be upset now, V. I think they already replaced it anyway.” “They better have changed it, I’m already stressed out with Remedial Law, I don’t need milk tea problems on top of that! Ugh, seriously!”