The late afternoon sun spilled through the windows, casting warm, golden streaks across the dining room. Kemet and Maya sat at the small table, heads bent over a notebook. Their conversation was hushed, dotted with soft laughter, their connection quiet but undeniable. Maya's curls bounced as she leaned in to correct a word; Kemet's pencil hovered, uncertain, but his eyes shone with a quiet hunger to learn.
Then the front door burst open, and the moment shattered.
Lily, Ji Ah, and Taylor walked in, grocery bags swinging. Their cheerful chatter died mid-sentence as their eyes landed on the scene: Maya and Kemet—laughing, close, conspiratorial.
Kemet froze. Maya sat up straighter, her hand moving instinctively over the notebook.
Ji Ah's jaw tightened instantly. Taylor raised an eyebrow. But it was Lily whose silence cut the deepest. Her gaze locked on Maya, cold and unreadable.
Kemet stood, voice gentle. "We'll be back, Lily."
She didn't even look at him. "Thank you, Kem," she said, tone flat. Then her eyes flicked to Maya. "Now how about I talk with you outside. You definitely have some explaining to do."
Ji Ah tossed her bag down. "Damn right you do. You knew I called dibs first!"
Lily shot her a glare. "Not now, Ji Ah. Just… not now."
As the air turned thick, the door creaked again. Emma stepped in, caught mid-step in the tension. "Uhh… did I miss something?"
Nobody answered. Lily was already heading toward the back door. Maya stood slowly, lips pressed tight, and followed. The door clicked shut behind them, and silence swallowed the house.
The late spring wind stirred the hedges. Birds chirped somewhere out of place. Lily turned, arms crossed, eyes sharp.
"What were you doing with him, Maya?" Her voice wasn't loud—but it had weight.
Maya hesitated, then shrugged. "Helping."
"Helping with what?"
"Reading. Writing," Maya said. "He was trying to learn."
Lily blinked. "And he asked you to help him?"
"No," Maya admitted. "I caught him doing it. He was hiding it.
Lily's eyes narrowed. "And when was this?"
"A week ago. He's… a quick learner."
Lily took a breath, jaw tight. "So what's in it for you?"
"Nothing," Maya said, her voice rising. "I just wanted to help. And maybe… figure out more about this mystery boy you're hiding in your house."
Lily's eyes flashed. "Mystery boy? So what, Kem is a case study now? First Ji Ah, now you?"
Maya stepped forward. "Leave him to be? Or you afraid he will tell us he's just from the past or something?"
Lily's silence was too long.
Maya's eyes widened. "He is, isn't he? Oh my god… it's true. He told me but I thought he was just… trying to get out of the question. But Lily—you believe him."
Lily didn't answer. She didn't have to.
Maya's voice softened. "He's not crazy. His behavior, the way he talks, the way he's afraid of everything—it may fit."
Lily stepped closer, eyes narrowed. "You had no right, Maya. He trusted me. We're still figuring this out. And you—you just barged in and pried it out of him."
"He wanted to tell you, Lily. He even asked if he could get your permission. Like he's your pet or something."
Lily flinched.
"You protect him so much, you're forgetting—he's a person. He needs more than just your good intentions."
A long, pulsing silence passed between them. The kind that leaves a scar.
Finally, Lily looked away. "Just… don't go behind my back again. Not with him."
Maya nodded, tight-lipped. "Okay. But am not buying this time travel story yet."
Inside, behind the window, Kemet watched. He couldn't hear the words. But he saw everything—the tight jaw, the sharp gestures, the way Maya stood her ground. Something between the girls had shifted. Something big.
Then, before the back door could swing open again, Ji Ah, Emma, and Taylor pushed through the kitchen from the front, eyes lit with pent-up frustration.
Ji Ah crossed her arms. "Seriously? You two go out there and fight like it's your secret to keep? Kemet is a damn time traveler. Do you even realize how huge that is?"
Emma added, "And you hid that from us? Not cool, Lily. Not cool at all."
Lily opened her mouth but couldn't find the words.
"We could've helped," Taylor said, quieter but firm. "But now we're just the audience."
The girls moved past her without another word, heading for the car parked in the driveway. The door shut behind them with a final thud that stung more than Lily expected.
The house fell quiet again. Maya returned to the table with Kemet, finishing the lesson with fewer smiles and more silence.
When she finally left, Kemet turned to Lily, hesitant. "I'm sorry… for going around your back."
But Lily just gave a tired sigh and sat beside him. "You were trying to fit in. I get it."
Before the quiet could settle into calm, the front door opened.
Lily turned, expecting one of the girls.
It wasn't.
It was Catherine.
She stepped into the hallway, bags slung over her shoulder, dressed in travel-worn business clothes. Her heels clicked on the floor like a returning storm.
"Mom?" Lily said, half in disbelief.
Kemet watched her from the couch, unsure whether to stand, speak, or vanish. Catherine hadn't been home in nearly two weeks, and though Lily was used to these business trips, Kemet wasn't. In his world, leaving children alone like this would've been unthinkable.
And yet, here she was—returning just as everything was beginning to fall apart. Maya greeted Catherine and left
Catherine stepped into the house like she'd only been gone for a few hours instead of weeks. She greeted Lily with a kiss on the forehead, dropped her suitcase by the stairs, and asked Kemet how he was feeling with a smile so polished it could've been made of glass.
Dinner passed in strained small talk. Catherine didn't mention anything, or even the fact that three girls had left the house in stormy silence. She asked about school, avoided eye contact when Kemet thanked her for "letting him stay," and disappeared into her room by 9 p.m. sharp.
Lily stared at her plate long after Catherine had gone upstairs, the knots in her stomach tighter than ever.
It was after 2 a.m. when Lily felt the weight on her mattress. She blinked groggily, turning to see her mother seated at the edge of the bed, her back straight, her expression unreadable in the moonlight.
"Mom?"
Catherine didn't speak at first. She just looked ahead, her voice finally breaking the silence like a blade.
"He's healed."
Lily pushed herself up, still half-asleep. "What?"
"Kemet. Physically. He's healed. There are no more injuries, no signs of trauma. According to the law, I've fulfilled my obligation."
Lily's pulse quickened. "What do you mean 'obligation'?"
"I took him in after an accident. Gave him medical care. Shelter. No records. No questions. That's enough. He's not a patient anymore."
Lily's voice rose. "He's not a patient—he's a person!"
Catherine turned to look at her then. Not angry. Just… resolute.
"He has one week, Lily. After that, he leaves. I've done my part."
"No," Lily said, eyes wide. "You don't get to decide that. This isn't just about your reputation, or some law—he needs us."
Catherine stood, smoothing out her silk robe. "And I need my life back. I didn't ask for this."
"You didn't have to ask. You chose to keep him here. You saw him, Mom. You saw how scared he was. Where do you expect him to go?"
"That's not my concern," Catherine said, already walking toward the door. "One week, Lily."
She paused, one hand on the knob.
"I suggest you start thinking about what goodbye looks like."
Then she was gone.
Lily sat frozen, the moonlight now a cold wash over her sheets. Her heart raced. Not out of fear, but out of something more dangerous.
Rage.
Because for the first time, she realized something:
Her mother didn't just want Kemet gone.
She wanted him forgotten.