Cassandra's eyes were fixed on Jake, and a whirlwind of emotions consumed her. There was something about him that seemed so small, so vulnerable, yet capable of rekindling something forgotten—a fragile flame in the midst of darkness. His narrow shoulders appeared burdened by an invisible weight, and his hunched posture, almost shrinking into himself, reflected a soul that had endured more than it should have. His unruly red hair fell messily over his forehead, while the freckles scattered across his pale cheeks were like marks of a boy who still held fragments of innocence.

At that moment, sitting on the old gray couch, Jake seemed smaller than ever. The living room around him was simple but cozy. The soft light filtering through the windows only highlighted the nostalgic atmosphere that permeated the space.

But Michelle was a dissonant presence there, like a gleaming knife on a worn wooden table. Her white hair fell like a curtain of ice over her shoulders, impeccably aligned, and her red eyes, glowing like embers, shone with an intensity that seemed capable of piercing anyone's soul. Her black coat with golden embroidery shimmered in the faint light, giving her an aura that was both majestic and threatening. Every movement she made was meticulously calculated, like a feline ready to pounce on its prey.

— So they’re your childhood friends... — Michelle murmured, her voice wrapped in a softness that felt more like the prelude to a threat.

The smile that accompanied her words was treacherous, narrow and sharp, and seemed to cut deeper than any blade. Jake immediately blushed, the scarlet hue on his freckled cheeks contrasting with his natural pallor. He lowered his head, unable to hold Michelle’s gaze, and his fingers began to fidget nervously, twisting in a helpless gesture that made Cassandra feel a wave of helplessness and anger growing inside her.

— Michelle... — Cassandra tried to intervene, her voice carefully measuring each syllable, though the firmness of her posture betrayed the internal storm she felt. But her words were like a gentle breeze against the steel wall that was Michelle.

The woman ignored Cassandra, her eyes fixed on Jake with the intensity of a predator. Without haste, she lifted the white porcelain cup, savoring the coffee that filled the room with a rich aroma. Every small gesture seemed orchestrated to impose her presence, from the almost imperceptible clink of the cup against the saucer to the elegant steps she took as she stood up.

As Michelle approached Jake, the sound of her boots echoed in Cassandra’s mind like war drums. Each step, though subtle, carried the weight of an unspoken threat. When she stopped beside the boy, she extended her gloved hand and, with slow, deliberate movements, ran her fingers through Jake’s red hair. He flinched slightly, like a frightened child, but didn’t dare pull away completely.

— Listen, boy — Michelle said, her voice sweet, laced with a feigned melancholy that only made her threat more unsettling. — I understand that all of this is confusing for you. It’s confusing for the boys too...

Jake hesitated, and the hesitation weighed like lead on his thin shoulders. He tried to speak, but the words died in his throat, swallowed by the oppressive silence Michelle imposed on the room. His downcast eyes were fixed on his hands, which moved frantically over his knees, a reflection of his growing anxiety. There was something tragic about that boy, Cassandra thought, as she watched helplessly. He seemed too small, too fragile, like a candle about to be extinguished by a cruel wind.

Michelle, however, was not a woman who granted time. Her voice cut through the air like the cold edge of a blade, sharp and inescapable.

— You don’t want to lose their friendship. — The tilt of her body brought her straight, gleaming white hair dangerously close to Jake’s face. The strands were almost an icy frame for those red eyes, living flames that seemed to see straight into the boy’s core. — But I also know you want them to be safe. And that... that depends on you.

The boy trembled like a leaf in the wind. Cassandra noticed how his already hunched shoulders sank even further, almost as if the weight of Michelle’s words were crushing him. He gripped his knees tightly, his fingers so tense that his knuckles turned pale, while the first hints of tears glistened in his eyes.

— Of course I do! — Jake murmured finally, his voice low and almost inaudible. It was a plea, a sigh stifled by his own weakness. — But...

Michelle leaned in, cutting off his response as if it were nothing more than a thread. Her gloved hand rested on the boy’s shoulder, a touch that brought no warmth or comfort, only a cold, authoritative weight. He froze under that gesture, like prey before a predator.

— Look here! — Michelle demanded, her voice balancing between treacherous sweetness and threat.

Cassandra barely managed to hold back the urge to intervene. She wanted to scream, to pull Jake away from that nightmare, but Michelle continued, her voice a thread of silk stretched to the point of breaking.

— You don’t have the blood of a mage, do you? — Each word was like a needle, slowly piercing Jake’s soul. — And if you keep hanging around them, you’ll end up being a burden. A weight none of them can carry. Is that what you want to be?

Jake tried to laugh, but the sound came out broken, almost a sob. He stood up from the couch, a jerky, almost desperate movement, as if hoping to escape Michelle’s invisible claws.

— It’s okay, I just... she’s kind of right... — he said, his voice sounding lost, a whisper that refused to assert itself. — The things they’re dealing with... I can’t do anything to help.

— Jake... — Cassandra tried to call him, but her voice was a shadow, weak and filled with helplessness.

He rubbed his hands on his worn jeans, his eyes fixed on the floor as if searching for a way out of that suffocating room.

— And... there’s my mom — he continued, without looking at them. — This could be dangerous for her too... I think it’s better this way... right? Just... just don’t tell anyone I came here, okay?

Cassandra felt her heart shatter into a thousand pieces. Every word he spoke was a knife, sharp and cruel, digging deeper with each moment. She wanted to run to him, hold him, tell him he was wrong, that everything would be okay. But Michelle was there, watching, a victorious smile curving her lips, as if she knew she had won.

Jake hesitated at the door for a moment. Cassandra saw the solitary tear that rolled down his face, glistening in the faint light of the room. It was a silent farewell, a goodbye he couldn’t express in words.

And then he was gone.

The door closed with a hollow sound, and the silence that followed felt like a scream. Cassandra remained there, paralyzed, with the emptiness growing inside her like a devouring shadow. Michelle leaned back in the armchair, her gloved fingers resting on the armrest, a portrait of cruel serenity.

Cassandra knew the battle was lost. Jake was gone, and with him, a piece of her own soul.