Prophecy

Plastic For A Founder

Chapter Fifteen

Mila

As Elena and I make our way towards the door for school, there's an easy camaraderie between us, indicating that any tension that once existed has dissipated.

"Good morning," Elena greets warmly, her smile genuine.

"Morning," I reply, returning her smile with equal warmth.

Elena calls up to Jeremy, our younger brother, while wrapping her scarf around her neck. Jenna, our aunt, hands us both our thermoses, and I offer a quick "Thank you" as I take mine.

Just as Elena opens the door, we're greeted by a stranger standing on the threshold, a smile stretching across his face.

"Elena! And you must be Mila! Wow, you look just like my mother," he exclaims, his words sending a shiver down my spine.

But according to Trudie's revelations, Elena and I have no blood relation to this man or his mother.

"Uncle John! Hi," Elena greets him warmly, shooting me a reassuring smile.

So this is our "dad's" younger brother... He doesn't strike me as much to look at.

He nods wearily to Jenna. "Jenna."

"John, you made it," she says, her tone cordial.

"I said I'd be here before noon," he retorts as he steps inside.

She rolls her eyes playfully. "Oh, what you say and what you do are typically two very different things."

Jeremy thankfully chooses that moment to bound down the stairs. "Uncle John, what's up?"

"Hey!" John replies, his enthusiasm genuine.

Jeremy slaps him on the shoulder before heading out.

"I had some business in town; I thought a visit was in order," John explains to Jenna.

She crosses her arms skeptically. "How long are you staying?"

"I don't know yet," he replies vaguely.

Feeling at ease amidst the familial banter, I interject, "Okay, well, I'm gonna go to school. I'll see you later."

"Me too," Elena chimes in, smiling reassuringly at me.

"Mila?" John calls from the doorway. "Come home straight after school. I have something to discuss with you."

I turn around, giving him a puzzled look. "Okay..."

His cryptic words leave a knot of curiosity in my stomach. As I hop into my car, I dial Bonnie's number, seeking solace in her voice.

"What's up? Why aren't you here yet?" Bonnie's voice crackles through the phone.

"Sorry, I got caught up with meeting John Gilbert. Listen, can I stay at your house tonight? He gives me a bad feeling," I explain, trying to convey the unease settling in my gut.

"Sure... Is it just something you feel when you just meet someone, or does it feel like something else?" Bonnie's concern is palpable.

"I'm not sure yet. I just don't want to be anywhere around him. I'd ask Damon, but I'm not going there again," I say firmly, determined to avoid any further encounters with him.

"I'm glad to hear it. Now hurry, you're going to be late," Bonnie advises, her tone shifting to urgency.

"God, okay!" I reply, ending the call with a huff. "Bossy Boots," I mutter to myself as I slide into my car.