Her parents settled into the front seats, her mum casting a lingering glance back at her before turning to face the road. The engine rumbled to life, its steady hum filling the quiet, but the silence between them felt thick weighted with the unspoken worry of the night.
Petunia slumped back, her head throbbing, the ache pulsing behind her eyes. The morning had been a whirlwind, the reunion, the fear, the strange shapes she'd seen, too much, all at once. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block it all out. But the moment she did, shadows flickered behind her eyelids, disjointed memories pressing in the empty library, the unsettling silence, the translucent figure by the lamppost.
She clenched her hands in her lap as the pain sharpened.
The car rolled forward, the gentle sway doing little to soothe her. For a long moment, no one spoke. Then her mother's voice broke the silence, soft, but carrying the weight of a night spent searching.
"Petunia," she said, turning slightly in the front seat. "What happened, love?" A pause. Her mother's breath caught slightly before she continued. "Why were you in the library all night?"
The question pressed against Petunia's chest, heavy. She swallowed hard. Her eyes stayed closed as her headache throbbed in time with her pulse, muddling her thoughts."I…" The words stuck in her throat. How could she explain something she didn't even understand?
"I fainted," she finally murmured. The words felt strange in her mouth, half-truth, half-guess. "I don't know why… it's all blurry." She shifted in her seat, her fingers twisting together, the dull ache in her head making her wince. "By the time I woke up… the library was already closed."
She hesitated, the memory of that dark, empty space crawling over her skin. "I couldn't get out."
A beat of silence. The steady hum of the car filled the space. Guilt coiled in her chest. Her parents had been searching for her all night. She hadn't meant to scare them. Forcing her eyes open just a sliver, she glanced at her mum's face. The light from the windshield was too much, her vision swimming, so she shut them again quickly.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice cracking, the weight of the night pressing down on her. She meant it. She didn't want them worried. But the fear from last night still clung to her, lingering like a shadow she couldn't shake.
Her mum's expression softened, relief flickering behind the exhaustion on her face. She reached back, her hand finding Petunia's and giving it a gentle squeeze, a quiet comfort. "Oh, love," she sighed, "don't worry, we're just glad you're safe." Her thumb brushed over Petunia's knuckles, the warmth grounding her.
"We were so scared, but you're here now." Her dad's voice came next, his tone steady but laced with lingering concern. "But don't let it happen again, alright, Petunia?" She could feel his gaze flick to her in the rearview mirror. "You scared us half to death." A pause. "Just… be careful, okay?"
Petunia nodded slowly, her body heavy with exhaustion. "Okay," she mumbled, barely above a whisper. She leaned her head back against the seat, eyes still closed. The car rocked gently as it moved, but her mind wouldn't quiet. Because the things she'd seen, the small, winged shapes darting near the tree, the translucent figure by the lamppost, hadn't gone away.
Her parents hadn't seen them. They can't see them. A quiet terror settled deep in her chest. If they couldn't see them…Then that meant she was seeing something she shouldn't. She pressed her fingers against her temple, trying to push the thoughts away.