Julie watched her uncle take a seat on the opposite side of the island, the expression on his face grim, and he looked at her, offering her an encouraging smile.

  "Is everything alright, Uncle Tom?" asked Julie, not knowing what exactly he wanted to speak about.

  "Yeah yeah," Uncle Thomas snapped from his slightly dazed look. "Uh, what I wanted to speak to you, there has been a family secret that we never got the opportunity to speak about until now. It is about your mother. Please understand that it wasn't either your mother or my intention to tell it this late."

  Julie could already tell what her uncle was going to speak about, but she decided to play naive about it.

  "Your mother and I, we were not blood siblings and she was instead adopted into the Winters family by your grandparents," explained Uncle Thomas, and Julie gave him a nod. "Your mother said it was best to not let you know about it, as it could disrupt things. And I didn't push her on it, because Harriet will always be my sister, Julie. I am not telling you things to make distance between us, you will always be my dearest niece."

  Julie smiled at his words, and she nodded her head, "Thank you, Uncle Tom. That means a lot."

  "I wouldn't have brought this up before if it weren't for your father," Uncle Thomas' words were cautious, and he looked at the main entrance door of the house to make sure no one would be coming in.

  "Did he contact you?" asked Julie, her eyebrows were quick to furrow, wondering what her father might have told him.

  "He didn't contact me directly, but two days ago, two men showed up asking about him and about your mother," replied Uncle Thomas, a small frown on his face. He said, "I would have believed that they were here to know more about your mother, because they asked many questions about your father. But then they started to inquire about you, and your whereabouts. I don't know why, but I felt that they weren't genuine."

  "You think my father sent them to get to me?"

  Her uncle nodded his head, "It is possible. I checked with the cops, and found out that your mother's case has been closed for quite some time now. No detectives had been sent here."

  Julie knew something like this would happen, but now that it was confirmed how her father was trying to reach out to her, she wondered what he was up to.

  "You don't have to worry about your information being leaked, Julie," he assured her. "Your father will never harm you, though… I do believe it is a good idea for you to move to another state."

  Julie pursed her lips, "That won't stop him from hunting me down, will it?"

  A sigh escaped Uncle Thomas' lips, and he gave a nod, "I don't know why he wants to hurt you. Did something happen that night, Julie? The night your mother passed away?"

  A lot of things said Julie in her mind, but she shook her head, "No, nothing that I could hold importance. It was a blur."

  "That is understandable," sighed her uncle, and he said, "I wonder why he even killed your mother. It just doesn't make sense. I would have believed that he was a decent man until… that happened."

  "What about yourself, Uncle Tom? Is it safe for you to stay here?" inquired Julie, worried for him.

  "I think if he wanted to come for me, he would have done that long again. Your aunt, she was hysterical when your mother passed away, that your father lost your mind and we should take protection," his hands stretched in the opposite direction as if to explain before they returned, interlocking with each other.

  "Do you remember what more questions were asked by the detectives who showed up here?"

  "Let me think about it," he had a thoughtful expression on his face while he stared at the surface of the smooth marbled island that they were sitting in front of. "They were asking about the Winters' family history. Asking where your grandparents came from. It was obvious that they were looking for answers about your mother specifically. Even though mother and father adopted Harriet, they never mentioned about her being adopted and neither did I. It has been a secret for as long as I can remember."

  It seemed like the hunters had tried to check if Uncle Thomas and the rest of them were from a witch's family too.

  "They stayed here for an hour, asking questions before one of them went to use the bathroom—"

  "DNA," murmured Julie to herself. "They went to take the sample and check if there's a mismatch in the family DNA. I think my father will find the answer that mother was never a Winters."

  "Well, even if he or others do come to interrogate me, I have no information. We never knew where your mother came from and neither did she. She was so quiet when my mother spotted her for the very first time. She barely spoke," stated Uncle Thomas, and Julie knew why exactly her mother didn't speak. She was in shock at finding herself in a place she would have least expected. "I just thought I should let you know."

  Julie was already aware of this, except that her father was sending men to find out about her whereabouts. She wondered what happened in a hunter's association.

  She picked the glass of water that she had earlier poured herself, and she took a sip from it.

  "Also," Uncle Thomas cleared his throat, his eyes slightly averting to the side, and Julie wondered what else he had to say. "I know I don't have to say this, but with I being your guardian, I hope you are using protection."

  Julie spat the water while she coughed, and Uncle Thomas looked as red as she was.

  "Uncle Tom…" Julie cleared her throat.

  "I know you are a responsible young lady, but your aunt Sarah would have you turn as a nun and might not give you the advice. I thought I should do it," Uncle Thomas then stood up from his seat, clearing his own throat, and both of them couldn't see each other's face without being embarrassed.

  "I-uh, thank you for the advice. We are, I mean, will make use of it," Oh dear God, thought Julie in her head.

  "Ahem, yes. That was all I wanted to say, because you are still studying and so young," said Uncle Thomas and Julie quickly nodded her head, standing up from her seat.

  "Let me make pancakes. I am sure Aunt Sarah would be hungry," remarked Julie, ready to divert the subject and her uncle nodded his head as if in agreement.

  "Do you want me to help you with it? Let me pull out the things. Your aunt has this peculiar habit of shifting from one place to another every week in the name of cleaning," offered Uncle Thomas, and he pulled out things from the cupboard.

  While Julie was getting the batter prepared, Roman climbed down the stairs and made his way to the kitchen. He had worn his jeans and T-shirt, padding his feet towards her while noticing she was alone and in front of the stove.

  "Never thought I would get to see you watch cooking this soon," said Roman, and Julie turned her head in time to meet his lips that pressed against hers.

  They then heard the sound of the car parking in the drive away, and Julie said, "Auntie had gone to get groceries and Uncle Tom went to get ready for work after reading his newspaper."

  Roman pecked Julie's lips again, and he hummed, "I think he gave out more news than taking in the news from the paper."

  "You heard it?" asked Julie, and Roman smiled.

  "Every single word that was uttered under this room," he tapped his finger on his ears as if letting her know about his ability to hear things even at a distance. "Pancakes," he noted, watching the pan.

  "It was the easiest one to prepare. What would you like to have with it? Maple or chocolate syrup?" asked Julie, and Roman shifted his gaze from the pan to look at her.

  "Can I get you?" Roman said it with a straight face, and before Julie could reply something about it, Aunt Sarah appeared through the door. She carried two brown bags in her hand. "Let me go and get it."

  Julie's cheeks had turned red, and she turned her body back to the stone, flipping the pancake while shyly grinning at Roman's words. Who knew he could be this sweet. Maybe Roman came with pancakes, a syrup—she quickly shook her head before her mind would get back to what happened last night.

  Aunt Sarah, who walked through the door, Roman was quick to grab the bags from her hand, and the woman looked at him with a look of suspicion.

  "Ah, I am glad that you are making breakfast, Julianne. I was worried that I would have to wait longer to have breakfast," said Aunt Sarah, placing her things on the counter before heading to where Julie stood.

  "Why do you call her Julianne?" inquired Roman, his eyes curiously looking at the woman in the kitchen.

  "Isn't that her name?" questioned Aunt Sarah, tipping her chin and wondering what was wrong with the name.

  "Most of them call her Julie, but you are one of the few who call her Julianne, including her father," pointed Roman, taking a seat where Uncle Thomas had earlier been sitting. "It makes it look like you are trying to keep a distance from her."

  "I think you are reading too much into just a name," responded Aunt Sarah with a laugh. "In my opinion, Julianne sounds much better than making it appear cool and calling her Julie. Why did your parents name you Roman?"

  "My mother said it meant strength," replied Roman, his black eyes calmly looking at her.

  When Aunt Sarah excused herself from the kitchen to go find her husband quickly, Julie turned to look at Roman and said, "She seems to be giving you less glares."

  "Do you think it's because I am charming?" questioned Roman, and Julie smiled.

  "I think you charmed her with a little bit of intimidation," if he didn't have the glaring aura around him, Julie was sure that Aunt Sarah would have come up with sarcastic and rude remarks, which would be glazed in honey, but still be known. "Not that I like it, but it's probably because you are the founder's son."

  "Mm," Roman nodded his head and then asked, "Did you think about putting yourself exclusively on my menu for breakfast?"

  The smile on Julie's lips broadened, and her eyes lowered on the plates that she had pulled out, placing the pancakes. She replied, "I am still thinking about it."

  Roman's lips quirked up, and he watched her, where there was a hint of blush and a certain shyness in her eyes, but it wasn't embarrassing to meet his gaze. She said, "I was thinking about paying a visit to the grave first, before showing you around."

  "Sure," replied Roman.

  When Julie's uncle and aunt came to have breakfast, she had made coffee for them. She had excluded Roman from coffee, as he preferred blood, and now that she thought about it, the only blood he had drunk from was her neck which was very little compared to the usual amount he took in. She took a quick peek at him, wondering if he was holding up well.

  "Why aren't you having coffee with us? Do you not like it?" inquired Uncle Thomas with curiosity in his eyes.

  "I am more into cold drinks than coffee," stated Roman, and his usual tone would sound serious to a stranger, but Julie could tell that he was being polite.

  "We have oranges if you want pressed juice," offered Uncle Thomas.

  "Rome likes to have other fruits, Uncle Tom. We'll get it when we are outside," said Julie with a smile, and she saw her uncle smile. Picking up the two plates, she placed it in front of her uncle and aunt.

  "Thank you, dear," thanked Aunt Sarah, and he picked up the maple syrup bottle before letting it drizzle on the surface of the pancakes. She then passed it to her husband.

  Julie flipped the next batch of the pancake before placing it on the plate. She looked around the counter before picking up something.

  Uncle Thomas was talking to Roman when Julie came with two plates in her hand. One which was for her and another plate that was for Roman. She placed the plates on their respective sides before she took a seat next.

  Roman's eyes narrowed slightly when he caught the whiff of fresh blood, and his eyes snapped towards the pancakes, where there were red lines on the pancake.

  When Uncle Thomas' eyes fell on Roman's pancakes, Julie said, "Rome likes to have his pancakes with ketchup," she smiled.

  "What a strange combination," murmured Aunt Sarah, who continued to have her breakfast, and she pulled her husband into a conversation of her own.

  "What a risky thing to be doing, Winters," said Roman to Julie in a low voice. His eyes then fell on the palm of her left hand, which had a fresh wound, and he frowned. "What am I going to do with you?" he asked her.

  "I realized you didn't get to drink and you might need some," Julie replied to him in a quiet voice so that her relatives wouldn't pick up what she was saying.

  Roman's lips had set themselves into a thin line. His fingers touched the knife next to his plate, and he nudged it off the table for it to fall on the ground. "I will get it," he said when Julie was about to bend.

  And when Roman got off his seat, bending down to get the knife, he caught Julie's left hand. She turned a little startled when she felt his finger press on the wound, and she clutched on her fork tightly.

  "Your mother loved lilies, Julie. If you are going to visit her that is," said Uncle Thomas, reminding his niece of his sister's likes. "There's a florist two blocks away from here. You will find them there."

  "Did you decide about the house, Julianne?" questioned Aunt Sarah, and at the same time, Julie felt Roman turn the palm of her hand to face him.

  "Uh, yeah," replied Julie, nodding her head and trying to keep her concentration in both places.

  Roman brought the palm to his mouth and licked the red line she had made for his sake. Doing something like under the table with her uncle and aunt sitting in front of them, Julie felt her heart slip in her chest.

  She felt his tongue graze, that left a burning sensation, yet it was soothing when he blew air on it.

  Picking up the knife, Roman sat back in his seat before he started to eat the pancakes made by Julie. He ate every one of them and licked the last smear of redness on the place with his finger.

  "Seems like Roman appreciates Julie's cooking," commented Uncle Thomas, with his eyes on Roman.

  Roman offered a small smile, "I do," and he looked at Julie, who was busy filling her mouth with pancakes as if she didn't hear it.