Chapter 3 SHATTERED TRUTH

The words hung in the air, heavy and tense. Liv’s face, once soft with concern, now held a pained expression. The silence stretched, punctuated only by Marcella’s ragged breaths. The clock on the wall ticked steadily, indifferent to the storm brewing between them. Finally, Liv turned, her eyes filled with a sorrow that Marcella had never seen before.

“I have been protecting you, shielding you from it as best I could, hoping you’d never have to face this.” She sighed, her gaze clouding with a mix of regret and determination. “But it seems the time has come. Now, more than ever, we need to focus on keeping you safe, on learning to control this gift… this curse. The supernatural world is dangerous, Marcella, especially for one like you. But you’re not alone. I’m here, and together, we’ll face whatever comes our way.” She said as she touched Marcella’s hands.

“How could you keep this away from me Aunt?” asked Marcella as she shrugged Liv’s hands away from hers. “Every single time I felt so much pain, you knew about it?! You knew how complicated and dangerous this was and you failed to tell me!?”

Liv reached out, her hand hovering hesitantly in the air. “Marcella, please let me explain.”

“Explain what?” Marcella interrupted, her voice rising. “Explain how you let me stumble through life, completely clueless, while you were sitting on this massive secret? Explain how you lied to me, day after day, pretending everything was normal when my entire existence is apparently linked to some history of the supernatural?” She took a step back, her eyes blazing with anger. “I trusted you, Aunt Liv. I thought you were the one person in my life who was always honest with me. How could you do this?”

Liv’s face crumpled, her eyes welling with tears. “I did it to protect you, Marcella! Your parents…..”

“Don’t you dare bring my parents into this!” Marcella snapped, her voice cracking with emotion. “They’re gone. I had a right to know the truth, Aunt Liv. It’s my life, not yours to control. And now, because of you, I’m completely unprepared for whatever’s coming. Thanks a lot.” Marcella turned and stormed out of the room, leaving Liv standing there, alone with her guilt and concern.

Marcella’s feet carried her up the stairs without thought, muscle memory guiding her to her bedroom. She shut the door behind her and pressed her back against it, sliding slowly to the floor. Her chest heaved, breaths coming in short, sharp bursts. She pressed her palms flat against the cool hardwood, grounding herself, trying to stop the world from spinning.

A supernatural world. A curse. The words swirled in her mind like leaves caught in a storm. She thought back to every strange moment in her life — the times she had felt a warmth pulse through her fingertips when she was angry, the way animals seemed drawn to her, the dreams that felt too vivid, too real to be ordinary. She had buried all of it, convincing herself she was simply different, quirky, imaginative. But it hadn’t been her imagination at all.

She pressed her knuckles to her mouth, stifling a sob. Why hadn’t Aunt Liv trusted her? She was eighteen now, not a child to be coddled and kept in the dark. Every lie, every carefully crafted half-truth burned through her like fire.

After a long while, her breathing steadied. She pushed herself off the floor and sat on the edge of her bed, staring blankly at the wall. Framed photographs lined the surface her and Selene making ridiculous faces at a carnival, her and Carmilla curled up on a couch with mugs of hot chocolate. Normal memories. A normal life she had been allowed to believe in.

But beneath every one of those moments, Aunt Liv had known the truth.

She thought about all the times she had felt that strange pull inside her that unnamed something she could never explain to anyone. She had learned to keep it to herself, afraid of what people would think. Afraid of what it meant. Now she knew it had a name, a history, a world attached to it. And that somehow made it worse.

Downstairs, Liv’s eyes wandered to the old photograph on the table. It blurred at the edges of her vision, the faces of her sister and brother-in-law smiling back at her from a happier time. She remembered the night they arrived, a whirlwind of whispered words and desperate pleas.

Rain poured against the windows as Zelda, her sister, stepped into the house, cradling a sleeping baby Marcella in her arms. Behind her stood Jacob, his eyes flashing with a primal fear Liv had never seen before. “They’re after us, Liv,” Zelda had gasped, her voice hoarse. “The pack… they found out where we’ve been hiding. About our baby. About Marcella.” Jacob, a werewolf, and Zelda, a hybrid, their forbidden love had created a child with a power that both sides wanted to control.

The wind howled outside, imitating the chaos in Zelda’s voice as she pleaded, “Liv, you have to help us. They won’t stop until they have Marcella.” Jacob stood behind her, his usually warm eyes now hard and wild, scanning the shadows as if expecting the pack to burst through the door at any moment. Little Marcella, no more than a baby in arms, slept peacefully, oblivious to the danger that clung to them like a shroud.

Liv remembered reaching out then, brushing a feather-light finger across the baby’s cheek. Even in sleep, Marcella had stirred at her touch, a tiny smile across her lips. Something had shifted in Liv’s chest in that moment — fierce, immediate, and unconditional.

“We can’t keep running,” Zelda had continued, her voice breaking. “It’s not fair to her. You’re the only one we trust, Liv. Promise me you’ll keep her safe. Promise me you’ll keep the supernatural world away from her, no matter what it takes.”

Liv had looked into her sister’s eyes, seeing the fear and desperation mirrored in her own heart, and made a vow she intended to keep. “I promise,” she had whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I’ll protect her.”

That was the last time she had seen Zelda alive.

Now, standing alone in the quiet of the living room, Liv pressed her hand to her chest. She had carried that promise like a stone for eighteen years, never once letting it slip. But stones, she was beginning to understand, could also be a burden. She had protected Marcella from the truth, yes. But had she also stolen something from her? The chance to know herself. The chance to prepare.

She sank into the armchair, exhaustion settling deep into her bones. She glanced toward the ceiling, toward the floor above where Marcella had retreated. She wondered if her niece was crying, or if the tears had dried up and been replaced by something colder — the quiet, subtle anger of someone who felt truly betrayed.

She thought about all the small moments she had almost told Marcella the truth. The morning Marcella had come downstairs pale and shaking after a nightmare, describing what no ordinary dream could contain. Liv had held her, stroked her hair, and said simply, “It’s just a dream, sweetheart. It means nothing.” The lie had tasted like ash on her tongue.

Or the afternoon Marcella had accidentally shattered every glass in the kitchen, standing in the middle of the wreckage with wide, terrified eyes and trembling hands. “I don’t know what happened,” she had whispered. Liv had swept up the shards without a word, blaming a faulty cabinet, refusing to meet her niece’s gaze.

Except it never truly was.

She thought of Zelda again, the way her sister’s hands had shaken as she placed Marcella into Liv’s arms that final night. “She’s going to be extraordinary,” Zelda had breathed, pressing her lips to the baby’s forehead. “Just make sure she gets the chance to discover it herself.” At the time, Liv had taken that to mean protection at all costs. Now she wondered if Zelda had meant something else entirely — not protection from the truth, but protection within it.

Maybe she had gotten it wrong from the very beginning.

Liv closed her eyes. She had always known this day would come. She had simply hoped she would be ready for it.

She wasn’t.

A knock on the door jolted her back to reality, the weight of the past slightly lifted as she focused on the present. “Coming!” she called out, her voice a little shaky. As she opened the door, two bright smiles greeted her.

“Hi Aunt Liv, is Marcella here?” Selene asked, and Carmilla, a bit more reserved, stood beside her, offering a shy wave.

“Yes, she’s in.” She said as she stepped aside for them to come in. As they went up the stairs calling Marcella’s name, she couldn’t help but smile. She saw a glimmer of hope in them — even with how complicated things were, Marcella could still look forward to these moments with pure joy.