The conversation flowed for a few more minutes, touching on classes, teachers, and upcoming school events. The casual chatter made Airam feel more at ease. But as the car turned down a quieter road, she couldn’t ignore the question that had been nagging at her about Irene and her oddness. She glanced at Freya, hesitant but curious. “Can I ask you something?” “Sure,” Freya said, glancing at her briefly.
Airam took a steadying breath, trying to choose her words carefully. “Irene... she’s—well, she’s kind of an enigma. She and her brother—they’re just so hard to figure out sometimes.”
Freya glanced at Airam through the rearview mirror, a faint smirk playing on her lips. “The Thacher family is full of enigmas,” she said with a knowing chuckle.
Airam’s curiosity deepened, and she tilted her head. “Seriously?”
“Seriously,” Dahlia chimed in from the backseat, idly fidgeting with the stack of bracelets on her wrist. “No one really knows how the Thacher family got their wealth. It’s one of those things people just whisper about.”
Freya nodded in agreement, her fingers drumming lightly on the steering wheel. “All anyone knows is that their mom, Dakota Thacher, inherited a fortune and used it to build an empire of influence through philanthropy.”
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“What about their dad? What does he do?” Airam asked, leaning forward slightly.
“That’s the real mystery,” Freya said, her tone turning more thoughtful. “Nobody knows. Not even Irene and Jericho. I asked Jericho once, and he just said their mom avoids talking about him, even now, years after he died.”
Dahlia shrugged, her gaze distant. “It’s like the whole family’s wrapped in this untouchable shroud of secrets.”
Airam leaned back in her seat, her mind buzzing with questions. The Thachers seemed more puzzling with every answer she got.
As the car slowly rolled up to the school, Freya maneuvering into a parking spot, Airam’s gaze drifted to the figures standing near the entrance. Jericho was holding open the car door for Irene, and as Airam watched them, something about Irene caught her attention. Her heart skipped a beat as she noticed it—the same strange colors she had seen around her mother at the hospital, only this time, they flickered in a chaotic swirl, each hue flashing and intertwining with the others. The sight sent a wave of unease crashing through her, her pulse quickening. It was as if the very air around Irene had turned into a vortex of flickering light, and it made Airam’s head throb with discomfort.
“Hey,” Dahlia’s voice cut through her focus, her hand gently tapping Airam’s arm. “You okay?”
Airam blinked, trying to shake the strange sensation from her mind. “Yeah, I’m fine,” she muttered, but the unease lingered, like a shadow at the edge of her thoughts.
Dahlia smiled warmly, clearly not noticing the lingering tension. “Are you ready to go?”
Airam forced a smile, nodding. “Yeah, let’s go.” But her mind was still on the flickering colors, wondering what they meant.