I couldn’t have been more than five or six years old. That was when the first whispers began. Back then I was too young to uand them, yet old enough to feel their weight. The memory stayed with me, vivid, like it happened yesterday.

  The room smelled. The faint st of herbs and somethialligered in the air, a st I would ter reize as blood.

  The local doctor was there, a broad-shouldered man with feliures. Deep brown fur and sharp amber eyes, he leaned over me, his tail flig thoughtfully behind him as he listeo my heartbeat.

  “Hmm,” he muttered, his ears twitg as he stepped back. He didn’t stop tapping his pen against the edge of his clipboard befng at my mother, Cassandra. His worry was showing on his face.

  She stood nearby as her hands csped tightly in front of her. I remember thinking how out of pce she looked, her elegant moth wings and anteed like a trepiece for the cramped, sterile room.

  “I’ll need a word with you, Cassandra,” the doctor said at st, his tone unreadable as his eyes darted between me and my mother.

  I could only stare bnkly, too afraid to ask what it was about. All of this was too o me.

  The doctor’s ears twitched again, but he gave me a reassuring smile. “Nothing to worry about, Markus. Why don’t you go wait outside for a bit? Your mother and I o talk.”

  Cassandra k beside me, brushing a strand of bck hair from my fabsp;

  Her fingers stuck for just a moment lohan usual. “It’s just a grown-up versation, okay?” she said softly. “Go wait by the door, I’ll be there soon.”

  Relutly, I nodded and slipped off the examination table. I stepped outside, the door closed behih a loud thunk.

  But curiosity burned in my chest. The way the doctor had looked at me, the way my mother’s wings had twitched ever so slightly, it all felt… off.

  I sat on the bench just a bit further away door, trying to ighe muffled voices that kept p out from inside. But I couldn’t just ig, the temptation was to.

  I crept back to the door, pressing my ear against the hard cold wood.

  At first, I could only make out fragments.

  “...unusual readings… not typical for…”

  “Viktor are you sure? There’s no ce…?” My mother’s voice, sharp and low.

  “I triple-checked,” the doctor replied. “Cassandra, the results are clear.”

  My heart raced as I leaned clrinding my face against the door just so I could hear clearer.

  “He’s… human.”

  The word struck me like thunder, even though I didn’t fully uand it at that time. There ause, heavy and almost suffog until my mother spoke again.

  “Human?” she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper. “But they’ve beeinct for turies.”

  “That’s what we thought,” the doctor said. “But his tests don’t lie. Every marker, every test, it all points to the same thing.”

  Another silehis one longer. I could picture my mother standing there, wings trembling ever so slightly, her antennae drooping.

  “This… this ’t get out,” she said finally.

  “Of course not,” the doctor replied, his voice hushed but firm. “If anyone found out, it would spell trouble for your family. For him.”

  “What do we do?” she asked, her voice tight with barely tained panic.

  “Keep this under s,” the doctor said. “And when he’s older, he’ll o wear an inhibitor to suppress any… peculiarities. It’ll help mask his st, his presence. You ’t risk someone else finding out.”

  “But what if someone insists on runnis?” Cassandra pressed.

  “Don’t let anyone you don’t trust y a hand on him,” the doctor said, his tone serious.

  “I’ll help as much as I , but you have to be careful. The wrong person finding out about this could…” He trailed off, but the implication was clear.

  The versation tinued, but I didn’t hear the rest. My mind inning, trying to piece together what little I knew. Humainct. Trouble.

  The door creaked open suddenly, and I stumbled baearly losing my bance. My mother’s sharp eyes nded on me immediately, narrowing slightly.

  “Markus,” she said, her toeady yet faltering, almost unnerved. “How long have you been standing there?”

  I fidgeted under her gaze, uo meet her eyes. “Not long,” I mumbled.

  Her expression softened, and she k in front of me, pg her hands on my shoulders. “You’re not in trouble,” she said gently. “But you o trust me, okay? Everything we’re doing, everything we’re saying, it’s for your own good.”

  I hough the knot in my chest didn’t loosen.

  The doctor stepped out behind her, his warm smile ba pce as if the versation inside had never happened.

  “Markus, you’re a healthy kid,” he said, ruffling my hair. “Just make sure to eat yetables and listen to your mom, alright?”

  “Okay,” I said quietly.

  As we left the ic, my mrip on my hand was tighter than usual. She didn’t say mu the walk home, her wings tucked close to her back.

  I didn’t ask any questions, though I had a thousand swirling in my mind. Even at that young age, I uood that there were some things I wasn’t supposed to know.

  As we reached our house, my mrip on my hand tightened, her slender fingers pressing into my skin. It wasn’t painful, but there was something in the way she held on. A quiet, desperate that I was too young to fully uand.

  Wheopped at the door, she finally looked down at me, her wings shifting slightly, her antewitg in that familiar, f way. She smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

  I decided to push the thoughts aside. For now.