A Witch's Game | ✓

10 | Planned Encounter

He took his hand out of his pocket and held out to have the dainty ones in his palm, giving it a light shake. "Thank you so much for coming at such a short notice, Ms Davis." The woman nodded respectively with a tender smile. The whispers of praises and low hums of delight reached to her ear, causing a slight blush to her cheeks.

"There's no need for gratitude, as it is my work, after all."

What is more elating than the compliments of one's ability, in her case, nothing was.

The principal called out a man, stood at a good distance in a navy blue suit. He cleared his throat and halted at the duo and inclined his head at the woman, then retrieving his attention to the man in his fifties. "Good evening principal, what is the matter?"

"Good evening," He chuckled at the manners and concerned tone, placing a hand over the young man's shoulder. "And first tell me, have you tried the food yet?"

"I sure did." The man responded, floundered by the question, darting his eyes from him to the lady whose eyes seemed to have enlarged, as if she knew where the conversation was going.

"Then meet Ms. Gem Davis," The principal put his hand on the small of her back. "It is her who catered us in the given deadline time."

"And Ms. Davis," He glanced at Gem, who returned the stare and added. "Meet the owner of the library in our college, the most famous author of our kingdom and also the one who has written 'The Witch Katherine Anderson', Mr. Terry."

"Hello," He started. "Good evening." She trailed off, catching her tongue in between her teeth with a soundless hiss at the mistake.

Terry jiggled his head at the silliness and unwanted nervousness. He was just someone, after all, and to relieve it, he said. "That is too much praises, I'm just someone who had a goal and succeeded in achieving it."

The principal left with a satisfied grin after he began the conversation and pushed them forward gently. Unaware that it was a match not meant to be made.

Wail after wail followed, silence unable to make its place as Viola stroked Gem's hair. Priscilla stood cemented to her place, benumbed at the unanticipated news.

"Am I cursed?" She let out a hiccup. "My love, was it cursed that Terry died?" Gem sobbed as she hugged her, head falling out of her arms.

"Why, why me!?" Glossy eyes, parching throat and pale lips couldn't describe her void heart and so she let it all out in weeps, kicking legs and childlike tantrums.

Priscilla broke out of her dazed state as it was time to take actions, she stooped towards Viola and murmured in her ear, voice weak and low but promising of support. "Take Gem to her house and tell her parents to ready for a burial and I'll go inform everyone else."

I also have to return the picture I had stolen.

Viola nodded, wiping her flushed cheek with her trembling hand. Terry was a sweet man, she knew he was, her heart believed it. She frowned, glimpsing at Priscilla's face, clean of any tear and sorrow. "You are not sad?" She asked, licking her lips.

"I am for my friend, as I don't know how to feel about a man I never met." Priscilla let those harsh words travel in the air to her.