The Shadows Have No Face || 𝐀𝐂𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐑

Epilogue

The warmth of the mid-day sun cast brown shadows against the floral wallpaper and lit up the specs of dust across the wooden floors. Birds chirp alongside the echo of waves crashing against the shoreline. A wicker basket is overflowing with flowers and bright leaves spilling over into a sink filled with water to soak dough-covered tools.

There is flour spilled on the counters and stuck to an apron. A sweet smell emits from within the hot oven that leaves the space comfortably warm to combat the chill of the late-summer wind.

Beyond the open windows, grass sways like the ocean from the breeze. The hill of green and gold tumbles down into the glittery light of the city. Far in the distance is another farmhouse like this one, with sprawling fields and livestock that come right up to the fence.

The chime of wind catchers echoes from the front deck and shards of rainbow light come from sun catchers scattered about in odd places where the light hits longest.

There is a wall of books crammed together across from a small fireplace. Chairs and couches sat in chaos after a game night, now in their new permanent spots until the next party. Atop the dining table are trays of baked cookies cooling down. They were pushed right against the pot of flowers at the center, still playing to spill onto the ground.

The sound of laughter pierces through the calm. From outside, it erupts in a symphony of joy. The infectious sound is enough to make the quietest laugh alongside. And the quietest did.

My lips curled up into a smile at the sound, and I looked out the kitchen window to the front yard to watch. My hands were still covered in clumps of flour and egg, making me fit perfectly with the murder scene of baking.

I listened intently to the laughter, to the shrieks and giggles only a child could make. I watched the two children tackle their father to the ground and attack him with sticks they fashioned into swords. He only managed to escape with the help of his shadows, a move that made the twins furiously shout about him cheating.

The ding of the timer was my cue to save the day, and so I called them all inside with the enticing peace offering of sweets. As usual, the three were inside within seconds of me pulling out the last tray of fresh goods.

The eldest—by three minutes—was using her wings to attempt a better view of the tray on the counter. "What are they this time, Mom?"

"All chocolate," I answered. "We won't know if they're burned until we taste them... but they smell alright."

The two kids looked at each other before grinning. Sadorah made a perfectly innocent face as he looked up and said, "Father should test them first."

"To see if they're poisoned? You really think your mother would do that?"

"Maybe not her, but the ovens still not proven innocent," Silen said.

Knowing it was a losing battle, poor Azriel became the sacrifice to my questionable baking. He cautiously picked up the cleanest-looking charcoal abomination and—to everyone's great surprise—bit off half the cookie in a single bite. I knew he regretted it instantly.

"It's horrible—I knew it was horrible," I started shaking my head as I went on about all that could've gone wrong. At this point, I may have forgotten the sugar or used too many eggs. Everything was a culprit.

"No, it's delicious—wonderful," Azriel said, fighting his better judgment and finishing the brick before picking up another and shoving it down with the obvious hope that he could avoid the taste if he ate fast enough. "See? Aren't they good kids? Aren't they?"