Chapter 61

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| RED'S POV |

"I'm right, aren't I?" he asked once again, his voice filled with a mix of anticipation and a hint of triumph. I remained frozen in shock, the weight of his previous words still lingering in the air between us.

Summoning the strength to speak, I managed to find my voice, though it quivered with a blend of curiosity and trepidation. "How did you know?" My question hung in the air, almost tangible, as I braced myself for his response. But instead of answering, he remained silent, his eyes fixed on me. With a deliberate motion, he dropped a worn photograph onto the table before taking a seat in a nearby chair.

I approached the table slowly and picked up the picture. There, I saw a group of friends-five of them in total, three girls and two boys, all wearing the same uniform that Xavier and I were wearing. Confusion knotted in my stomach as I tried to make sense of it all. "Who are they?" I managed to tear my gaze away from the photograph, directing my gaze toward Xavier, who had been silently observing me all this while.

"Take a closer look, Red, and you'll understand," he said, crossing his legs and folding his arms, causing his blazer to tighten around his muscular frame. I looked back at the picture and carefully examined it. My eyes stopped on a particular couple-the male with his hands on the female's shoulders, smiling at her. A sudden realization dawned upon me, and my eyes widened in disbelief.

"Mum? Dad?"

The words escaped my trembling lips, barely audible above a whisper. Confusion engulfed me, my mind whirling with a maelstrom of questions. How could they be in this photograph? Why had Uncle J kept this hidden from me? My gaze wandered to the other figures in the picture, and I stopped at a young woman, her smile appearing forced, her piercing purple eyes fixed unwaveringly on the camera. I knew who it was, even before the truth fully registered within my mind.

Aunt Morgan.

Overwhelmed by this newfound revelation, I couldn't help but approach Xavier, drawn to him by the weight of my emotions. "Where did you find this?" I inquired, a mixture of awe and confusion lacing my words. He let out a weary sigh, rising from his chair and slowly closing the distance between us. With a gentleness that belied the storm of emotions swirling within him, he reached out and retrieved the photograph from my grasp.

"I was searching through Mum's office desk, trying to find answers to this confusion. That's when I found it hidden in the last drawer, beneath a pile of files. It seems like she didn't want it to be found," he explained, his voice tinged with a hint of sadness. His gaze remained locked on the photograph, his fingers tracing the faded edges as if they held the key to unraveling the secrets of the past. I followed his line of sight, and as my eyes settled upon the younger version of the principal, her head nestled against my mother's shoulder, a surge of disbelief coursed through me.

They were friends?

"What does this mean?" he asked me, his desperation matching my own.

"I don't know," I admitted, feeling the weight of the world pressing down upon my shoulders. "I need time to process all of this." Overwhelmed, I sought solace in the embrace of a nearby chair, sinking into its softness as if it were a lifeline amidst the tempest raging within. My head was throbbing with so much happening in just two days.

"Do you know the other woman in the picture, the one who's frowning?" he asked, and I didn't have the courage to tell him who she was. But he already knew too much, so hiding everything seemed futile.

"That's my Aunt Morgan," I announced, avoiding his gaze. There was silence as he tried to process everything. Then he exclaimed, "Wait, your Aunt Morgan? You mean the first witch of Ozel, that Morgan!" My eyes widened as he described her exactly the way she had portrayed herself in Uncle J's office. "How do you know about her?"

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