SOUL

fight about her gifts

The room was suffocating, thick with tension as Leo sat across from Mary, his eyes fixed on her, but his mind miles away. He couldn't make sense of it. The body they had found, the way she had known exactly where to look, just by touching the victim's necklace. It defied everything he understood. His training, his logic—it all felt useless in the face of what she had just done.

His partner, Detective Harris, paced back and forth in the small, dimly lit room, his frustration growing with every second of silence. "This doesn't make any sense!" Harris snapped, his voice cutting through the air like a blade. He turned toward Mary, his face twisted with skepticism. "You just touched that damn necklace, and what? You knew where the body was?"

Mary sat quietly, her eyes downcast, her hands resting in her lap. She didn't respond, didn't even flinch at Harris's growing aggression. She had been through this before—people questioning her, doubting her. It was nothing new. But it still hurt.

"Answer me!" Harris barked, stepping closer, his presence looming over her. "What are you, some kind of devil worshipper? Witch? Was it you that drained her of the blood in her body and strung her up there?"

Leo's muscles tensed at the word, and he shot up from his seat, positioning himself between his partner and Mary. "Back off, Harris," he growled his voice low, warning.

Harris scoffed, throwing up his hands in frustration. "Back off? She's not answering any of our questions, Leo!"

Leo's eyes flickered with an anger he hadn't felt in a long time, but before he could respond, Mary slowly lifted her gaze, her eyes locking onto Harris. She extended her hand, her fingers brushing lightly against the watch on his wrist. Her touch was gentle, but it was enough to stop him cold.

"Your grandfather," she said softly, her voice quiet but sure. "He passed that watch down to you. He was proud that you wore it every day. He told you it represented the strength of your family, the resilience that's been passed down through generations."

Harris froze, his face draining of color as he stared at her, his eyes wide with horror. There was no way she could have known that. He had never mentioned his grandfather to anyone, let alone the significance of the watch he wore. It was a family secret, something sacred.

"What... what are you?" he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.

Mary remained silent, her expression calm, even as Harris recoiled from her like she was some sort of monster. "Witch," he muttered under his breath, the word dripping with fear and disgust.

Leo's jaw clenched, his fists curling at his sides. "Get out, Harris. Now."

Harris looked at him, his eyes wide with shock. "Leo—"

"Get out," Leo repeated, his voice leaving no room for argument.

Harris hesitated for a moment longer before storming out of the room, slamming the door behind him. The echo of the door reverberated through the room, leaving an uneasy silence in its wake.

Leo exhaled slowly, turning back to Mary. The weight of everything they had been avoiding for years pressing down on them. He sat down across from her again, his eyes studying her face, searching for answers.

Leo stood in the dimly lit room, arms crossed, jaw clenched, as he stared at Mary, disbelief clouding his expression. The victim's body had been found in exactly the spot she had said it would be—because she had touched a necklace, of all things. And now, here they were, on opposite sides of the room, the tension thick and suffocating.

Mary sat across from him, visibly shaken but determined, her fingers twisting nervously in her lap. She could feel the weight of his doubt, the way he was pulling away from her, retreating into his skepticism. She had expected this. She had feared it, but she knew she couldn't keep hiding from him anymore. He had to know the truth, no matter how much he resisted it.