Fated Encounters

Chapter 27

Angela sat by the window of Sasha’s small apartment, watching the rain drizzle down in soft, steady sheets. Her fingers absentmindedly traced the cool surface of the glass, her thoughts far away. Everything Patrick had told her spun in her head like a storm she couldn’t escape. Her parents. The life she never knew. The battle they fought, the lives they lost.

And all the while, she’d grown up believing she was alone. She’d been left to fend for herself in an orphanage, with only fleeting memories of a past that now seemed more significant than she ever realized.

She closed her eyes, trying to remember their faces—the faces of her parents. Lauren and Sky. Her mother, a witch. Her father, a hunter. How could she never have known? Images flickered in her mind, blurry and distant, like pieces of a dream she couldn’t fully grasp. She could remember small things—her mother’s soft laughter, her father’s strong, comforting presence—but nothing that told her who they truly were. Nothing that explained why they hadn’t been there for her.

Her chest tightened, the weight of betrayal settling deep within her. If her parents were such important people, if they were fighters and protectors, why hadn’t they protected her? Why hadn’t anyone come for her? Not after her mother’s death. Not after her father disappeared. She had spent her whole life believing no one cared, that no one wanted her.

Where were they when she was bullied in school? Where were they when she cried herself to sleep at night, wishing for a family, wishing for someone to love her?

The anger surged within her, and she clenched her fists, trying to push away the flood of emotions. It wasn’t fair. If Will had kept an eye on her all these years, why hadn’t he reached out? Why hadn’t he told her the truth sooner?

Her thoughts drifted back to a day long ago—when she was just thirteen years old. It was one of the worst days she could remember from her childhood. Her classmates had been particularly cruel that day, mocking her for being different, for not having parents like everyone else. They had cornered her in the schoolyard, throwing insults and taunting her until she had run away, her face hot with tears and humiliation.

That day, she had felt completely alone.

But something strange had happened. As she wandered through the streets, aimless and broken, an old woman had appeared out of nowhere. Angela had never seen her before, but the woman seemed to know her, approaching her with kind, knowing eyes.

“Young one,” the woman had said, her voice soft but filled with wisdom. “You carry a heavy burden. But you are stronger than you think.”

Angela, lost in her pain, hadn’t wanted to hear anything at the time. She had barely looked at the woman, too angry and upset to care.

The old woman had reached into her pocket and pulled out a small pendant—a silver charm, delicate and gleaming, with strange engravings Angela didn’t recognize.

“This,” the woman had said, handing her the pendant, “will protect you. Keep it close, and it will save you when you need it most.”

Angela had taken the pendant without thinking, stuffing it into her pocket, not understanding its significance. At the time, it had seemed like just another odd encounter in a life full of disappointments. She hadn’t even asked the woman’s name. She was too caught up in her own sorrow, too wrapped in the pain of being bullied and rejected.

But now, as she sat by the window, that memory resurfaced, clearer than ever. The pendant. She had never worn it, never even given it much thought after that day. It had stayed buried in her things, a forgotten trinket from a forgotten stranger.

Angela stood up suddenly, her heart racing. She hurried to her room, digging through her old jewelry box until she found it—nestled at the bottom, untouched for years. The pendant. The one the old woman had given her.

She held it in her hand, staring at the intricate designs etched into the silver. Why had she never paid attention to it before? The old woman had said it would save her, but Angela had been too angry, too sad to listen.

Now, with everything Patrick had told her, with the revelations about her parents and her past, the pendant felt different. Heavier. Important.

Who had that old woman been? How did she know about Angela, and why had she given her this pendant? Was it connected to her mother? To the powers her parents had kept hidden from her?

Angela’s mind raced with questions, but no answers came. She felt a pang of regret, realizing she had been too young, too lost in her own misery to ask the woman anything.

But she couldn’t shake the feeling that the pendant meant something. That it had always meant something. Maybe it had been watching over her all these years, protecting her in ways she hadn’t understood.

Holding the pendant tightly, Angela sat back down on her bed, her heart heavy with thoughts of her parents. What had their lives been like? Why had they chosen this life for her—one where she would grow up never knowing the truth?

She didn’t have all the answers. But one thing was clear now: she was part of something bigger than herself. Something she couldn’t run from, no matter how much she wanted to escape.

Her parents had fought to protect her, and now, it was her turn to carry that legacy. Whether she liked it or not.