Cold Ashes

five

You might need help getting out of a rather burning mess someday.

Burning mess.

I was too pumped up on adrenaline on my way to the Agency headquarters to think straight. I don't even remember what exactly was it that I told Orias. I must've told him about the ski-masked man. But I didn't think I mentioned the part where the whole building froze over. I think he figured that one out himself.

"You didn't see his face," Orias asked me--referring to the ski-masked man--which sounded more like a direct statement.

I fidgeted with my hands, still too freaky and fidgety to think straight.

"His face was covered." I shook my head. Then shook it again. Was I one of those adrenaline junkies? "But he said that he'll put the Agency to its rightful place."

And kill me. I didn't add that.

Orias paced across the room, the tips of his fingers rubbing his chin as he frowned thoughtfully. Then his gaze snapped up to me and I froze.

"You can go. Get some rest. I assume you've skipped college?" He asked.

The fidgeting started again. It was so bad that I nodded approximately thrice. "Yup. Yes. Don't worry about it. I've got...backup. But yeah, I'll go if that's okay."

Orias's frown turned more into a furrow of his brows as he stared me down. "Don't think he saved you without an ulterior motive, Dahlia."

It took me a few silent seconds to figure out who he was talking about. Like every other time, Orias knew exactly what was going through my head. Ice Phantom. He had saved me from that fire (and maybe even from that ski-masked man). Ice Phantom was the only person I knew who could do that; change anything into ice. Make ice grow out of thin air. He was the only one.

But that wasn't where the confusing mess ended. There was Neo somehow involved in this too. The challenging look in his eyes earlier in the cafeteria today. The warning in his tone. His words.

But Neo wasn't...how could Neo have known about that fire? There was no way any of that made sense.

By the time I left the Agency building, it was late evening by then. The rush of adrenaline was slowly draining away, leaving behind the feeling of utter exhaustion.

I took out my phone and saw a few texts from Penny, asking me how the migraine was going along. One text was from Jon too, asking if I could drop by tomorrow at the bookshop for an extra few hours. Sniffing, I switched off my phone and slid it into my hoodie pocket.

It was a cold evening. Colder than usual.

The whole walk to my apartment felt like I was being watched. It felt like a pair of eyes were on me. Paranoia was like a giant tarantula on me, a snake making its way up my spine. All kinds of horrible.

I wrapped my arms around my middle and was relieved when I neared the familiar apartment building--even more so when I saw Dolores, the old lady who lived in the apartment beside mine, standing at my front door.

"Dahlia, honey." She turned around when she saw me, with a smile as warm as her dark brown cardigan. "Good thing you're here. I made some apple pie. I knocked on your door just now but no one opened."

I passed her a grateful smile and the delicious smell from the container in her hands wafted up to my nose.

"Oh. Thank you, Dolores. You didn't have to." My appetite seemed pretty nonexistent right now, but there was just this something about Dolores's homemade apple pie that always did it for me. The lady had magic in her hands.