INTERTWINED

A stranger sat at her table, claiming to be her soulmate. Isabella Graham stared incredulously at the young man who had just uttered such words.

She opened her mouth to speak but couldn’t find the words, leaving her lips slightly parted. She tried again, but the same thing happened.

Then she laughed—a short, disbelieving laugh—because that was all she could do. She was completely speechless.

Still chuckling, she finally managed to say, "Okay, okay, you got me there. Now, where are the hidden cameras?"

The young man simply pressed his lips together, as though suppressing a smile. "There are no cameras, Miss Graham.

Come on, I know you feel that unstoppable pull. The undeniable attraction."

Alright, she was done listening to this nonsense. Abruptly, she stood up and leaned over the table.

"Mr Whoever-You-Are, I think it’s clear that you’ve got the wrong person." With that, she turned and walked away.

She had almost reached the restaurant entrance when she heard him say, "The heart never lies, Miss Graham."

he whirled around, exasperated, and stalked back toward the table.

She slammed her palms onto the table—hard—drawing the attention of other diners.

"Do you realise how ridiculous you sound?" she snapped. "In fact, do you even hear yourself?!" She scoffed. "You must be high on something!"

'Who did this guy think he was, waltzing up to her table and spouting nonsense?'

Her palms itched to land a punch on his face. 'Why did he have to be that handsome?'

He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off. "Not another word. I do not want to hear another word from you."

Just then, a male customer approached their table. "Is he bothering you?" he asked.

Every fibre of her being wanted to say yes, but looking at the stranger’s relaxed posture and teasing smirk, she muttered an almost inaudible 'no.'

The man eyed them both before walking away.

"And cut! Very good. That’s it for today. Good job, everyone!" The director announced.

"Nice work, Chris," he said to the man who played the stranger.

"Oh, Skyler is a natural," Chris replied with a grin. "It’s easy to follow her lead."

Skyler scoffed. "You know, when you wore that annoying smirk, I was actually tempted to pour this cold coffee on your face—for real."

Laughter erupted on set.

After wrapping up, Skyler walked out of the restaurant, with Chris following behind.

"So, where is the beauty headed?" he asked, obviously referring to her.

She scoffed playfully. "I don’t see any beauty around."

Chris chuckled, amused by how she always had a response for everything. "Where to, Miss Brooks?" he asked more directly this time.

"Home," she replied.

"And this home… Doesn't have an address?"

This time, she smiled but didn’t reply.

"I’m just asking so I can drop you off. I noticed you didn’t bring your car today," he added quickly, as if to clear up any misunderstanding.

"Yeah, I didn’t bring it because today’s shooting location isn’t far from my house. Also, the weather seemed nice for a walk." She glanced up at the sky. "Still is."

"Alright then. Take care, beauty." He winked, got into his car, and drove off.

Skyler watched the car disappear down the road. It looked oddly familiar. So did Chris.

She shook her head. I mustn’t overthink.

Her stomach grumbled. Her hunger must be messing with her brain.

She walked home, enjoying the cool breeze against her face, her hair tossing in different directions.

When she arrived, she found several letters scattered all over her doorstep—love letters. It had become a daily occurrence.

Males, both young and old, were interested in her. Some lost interest after discovering she had ‘children.’ Others remained adamant, continuing to leave letters at her door.

She didn’t have the energy to toss them into the bin at that moment. Instead, she unlocked the door and walked in.

The twins wouldn’t be back until two in the afternoon.

She was grateful that Mrs Clarkson, her neighbour—whose children attended the same school as hers—had volunteered to bring Jason and Jane back.

As she made her way to the kitchen, something in the hallway caught her eye.

A framed photo.

It was a picture of her and her sister, Amy, taken a week before the accident that claimed Amy’s life two years ago—leaving Skyler to care for her twin children.

She exhaled sharply, shaking off the painful memories, and went on to prepare lunch for herself and the twins.

When she finished cooking, she ate.

She knew Jane would pout about her eating without them, but she had no choice—she was famished.

After her meal, she went for a quick bath.

As she was in the bathroom, the doorbell rang.

Ring. Ring.

"Give me a moment! I’m coming!" she called out.

But the ringing continued, as though the visitor hadn’t heard her.

Frowning, she hurriedly finished up, grabbed a towel, and wrapped it securely around herself. She walked briskly to the door and peered through the peephole.

Skyler smiled. It was Mrs Clarkson, along with Jane and Jason.

She swung the door open.

"Welcome, welcome," she greeted. Then she turned to the twins. "Go in and take your baths. I’ll dish out the food when you’re done."

The children scrambled into the house.

Looking back at Mrs Clarkson, she said, "I can’t thank you enough for bringing them back. I’m very gra—"

"Oh no, no, it’s no bother at all, Miss Brooks," Mrs Clarkson cut in with a wave of her hand.

Then, with a sheepish smile, she added, "But I would appreciate some of that homemade milk of yours."

Skyler chuckled. "Of course, by all means." She went inside, fetched two bottles, and handed them over.

As expected, Jane whined upon discovering Skyler had eaten without her.

"More letters?" Jason asked later that evening as they worked on their assignments.

"Yeah, we’ll get rid of them later," Skyler replied.

"Can you blame them?" Jane chimed in. "They send those letters because Aunty Skyler is so handsome." She beamed up at her aunt.

Skyler couldn’t help but smile.

"It’s 'beautiful', not 'handsome,'" Jason corrected. "You’re eight. How dumb can you be?"

Jane’s eyes instantly welled up. "Aunty, Jason is calling me names again!" she whined.

Jason rolled his eyes.

"Now, Jason, stop calling your sister names," Skyler said in an amused tone. "She’s only eight."

"And so am I," Jason retorted. "But I’m not that dumb."

"That’s enough, Jason," Skyler said, firmer this time.

Jane blew a raspberry at him. Jason mouthed 'childish', and Jane started crying again.

Skyler pinched the bridge of her nose. "Stop it, both of you!"

She sighed, looking toward the doorway. "It’s almost dark out. Jane, go bring in those letters."

Jane dashed outside.

Moments later, she returned—panicked. The letters fell from her trembling hands.

Skyler frowned. "What’s wrong, Jane?"

"There’s a creepy man outside!" Jane stammered. "He was just standing there, staring at our house!"

Skyler’s breath hitched. "Jason, make sure all the windows are locked. Jane, come with me."

Jason hurried off. Skyler took Jane’s hand and stepped outside.

"Where did you see him?"

"Right there," Jane pointed. "Just a few steps away from the house."

Skyler scanned the area. Nothing.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Aunty," Jane whispered. "And… he had a knife."

Skyler’s pulse quickened.

She stepped forward cautiously. Then she saw it.

A knife.

It didn’t belong to them.

Someone had been there.

She used a nearby nylon to pick up the knife and toss it in a waste bin.

Then she walked back towards the house.

The kids jumped at the sound of the door opening.

"It’s okay, it’s just me, okay?" Skyler said, trying to calm them down. They were scared—and rightfully so. Someone was after them.