<h4>Chapter 75: I Have Always Known</h4>
<strong><i>{Rennon}</i></strong>
~**^**~
I pulled into the driveway and cut the engine, letting the quiet hum fade into the still afternoon.
Lennon’s ck Ninja sat parked at an angle, its sleek body catching the fading sun. Typical of him. Always dramatic, even when standing still.
I stepped out of the car, the faint crunch of gravel under my shoes. Then, I locked it with a soft beep, and walked toward the house.
There was a soft breeze, the kind that tugged gently at the ends of my shirt sleeves and carried the scent of pine and home.
Inside, the hallway was quiet, just like I liked it.
Upstairs, I headed straight to my bedroom and took a quick shower, letting the warmth calm my muscles and clear my mind. Not from exhaustion, but from the look in Elira’s eyes when she saw that yearbook.
The shower helped. Just enough to pull me out of my head and back into the present.
After drying off and pulling on a dark, long-sleeved shirt, I stepped back into my room with a fresh towel in hand just as a hurried knock sounded.
Before I could respond, the door opened.
Typical Lennon.
"You met with Elira today," he said, stepping inside without preamble. "How did it go?"
I used the towel to dry my damp hair a little more.
"It went fine," I said simply, tossing the towel over the back of my chair. "She’s doing better."
He narrowed his eyes slightly. "What happened?"
I leaned a hip against my chair and thought about whether or not I should say it. It wasn’t really a secret.
But most importantly, Elira wouldn’t hold it against me, not when it involved the truth about her mother.
And it wasn’t anything awful. It was something to be proud about.
"She found out that her mother attended ESA," I said. "1988 set. Kathryn Morgan. Top of her graduating ss."
Lennon blinked. "Wait—what?"
"She found the yearbook. Her name. Her picture. Everything." I paused. "It shook her."
Lennon muttered under his breath and scrubbed a hand down his face. "That’s big."
"It is," I agreed.
He was still processing when he added, "Zenon needs to hear this."
I nodded. "Let’s go."
---
Zenon’s study was on the third floor. By the time we reached the top, Lennon had already opened the door.
Zenon was at his desk, back straight, fingers tapping something into hisptop. As soon as we stepped in, he looked up, expression unreadable.
"What’s going on?" he asked, voice cool and clipped as always.
"Elira found something," Lennon said. "Rennon told me—her mom, Kathryn Morgan, graduated from ESA. Top of her ss. 1988."
For a split second—just long enough for someone who knew him—there was a flicker in Zenon’s expression. Surprise.
Then it was gone, buried underyers of indifference.
He didn’tment on it. Instead, he said, "I found someone. A healer."
That caught my attention.
"Who?" I asked, standing a little straighter.
"She’s old. Renowned. Discreet," Zenon replied. "I got lucky. She’s in the region for a few days."
A rare stroke of timing. The kind that didn’t happen often. This was fate moving.
Lennon’s tone lifted with enthusiasm. "Then Elira shoulde home on Sunday. Let her see the healer."
I nodded. "She should. This woman... she might be the only one capable of undoing the block or helping us with the next steps."
Though I don’t know the details of the healer’s role in helping Elira unblock her channels, what I do know is that Elira did unimaginable things with her powerster in the future.
And because I knew this, I was confident enough to assure her that she would have her channels unblocked and would be able to use her powers.
Zenon picked up his phone. "I will file her exit now."
I watched him make the call, my arms folded as I leaned against the wall. I wasn’t worried.
He would get it done. He always did.
A few minutester, Zenon ended the call and said, "Approved. I will get the exit slip from her dorm mistress when I go pick her up Sunday morning."
That made me nce at Lennon. His gaze met mine briefly.
He was surprised, and he didn’t try to hide it. But I wasn’t.
Zenon volunteering—again—to pick Elira up? That wasn’t nothing. Even if he wouldn’t admit it, he was trying.
It was hard for him to experience this emotional vulnerability. But he was doing it, in his own cold and quiet way.
And it mattered because I had seen it.
For years, I’d seen Elira in visions. A constant thread through the chaos of fate. Her presence had always been inevitable.
I had known, long before the Mating Moon Ceremony, that she was ours.
And I had known that Zenon’s engagement to Regina would never happen, worth more the wedding.
That night in the clearing, when the truth revealed itself—I hadn’t been surprised like my brothers.
Not in the least.
What did surprise me, though, was how much it affected me today. Watching Elira’s hands shake when she found her mother’s picture.
The way her voice trembled when she asked me if her mother had powers. And the way she stared at the yearbook like it had rewritten her entire history.
I had tried to keep things simple for her. Told her I didn’t get visions often. That they weren’t always clear.
That was partially true.
But what I didn’t say clearly was that I could also see the past. That I often interpreted dreams. That fate whispered things to me—things I sometimes didn’t know how to exin.
Still, I couldn’t see everything.
If I could, I would have known what Regina would do that day at her uncle’s house. I would have stopped it. I should have stopped it.
I will never forgive myself for that.
But now, I can protect her and guide her better.
Then my gazended on Zenon, who was already tapping his phone screen once again.
I guessed he would be calling Elira next. And it was so, except Elira didn’t answer, and he refused to call back, even forbade us to reach out to her.