"Asna called this afternoon," said Ramiya Sanders as she deftly sliced through a bell pepper, the rhythmic chop-chop of her knife echoing through the small kitchen.

"Huh?" Noah glanced over at his maman, his hands deep in the bowl of ground beef.

He caught her eyes for a moment before returning to the task at hand, his fingers slick with the cold, sticky meat.

"What did she say?"

"She needs two more days. Apparently, her cousin's wedding turned into an utter chaos when the bride ran off. That's what she said."

"Oh." Noah muttered, absentmindedly, making meatballs out of the mixture-larger than usual, a little bit oddly shaped, but firm and smooth, just the way the kids liked them.

"Yeah. And until she comes back I'll be the one doing all the chopping," Ramiya said, picking up an onion and twirling it in her palm.

Noah looked up and huffed, "Maman, you don't have to-"

"Do not argue with me, Noah Izaiah Sanders."

"But-"

"My word is the law. For I am the, uh, the queen. Of Sanders House kitchen."

Noah rolled his eyes, "Seriously?"

"Hush now! Her Majesty has spoken and you, my humble subject, shall listen without question," Ramiya said as she lifted up her chin in mock superiority.

Noah scowled, his lips twitching as he fought back a grin. "You're being ridiculous."

"I'll have you know," Ramiya continued, straightening her posture and clutching the onion like it was a royal scepter, "The crown weighs heavy, but I wear it well."

"Yeah?"

"Hush! Get back to your work, peasant."

Noah couldn't hold it in anymore. A sharp bark of laughter escaped him, and Ramiya too joined in, their giggles bouncing off the tiled walls of the kitchen.

It was a moment of lightness-something so rare these days-and Noah cherished it, even if it was fleeting.

As their laughter slowly ceased, Ramiya returned to her chopping-duty, staring at the onions with a mischievous glint in her eyes, and Noah, shaking his head, focused on the meat-balls at hand.

After that little episode earlier (that had made all the lights in the kitchen and the hallway explode . . . and also left a jagged dent on the wooden counter-thanks to the knife) Ramiya had refused to let Noah go anywhere near anything sharp.

And now Noah was stuck with the meat-ball duty while Ramiya happily went on committing violence against vegetables. And every so often, she would pause, brush a few strands of her hair behind her ear, and give Noah a quick glance, as if to check on him without being obvious.

Well, at least she let me fix the kitchen bulb.

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, watching as she moved to the stove, adding oil to a large pan. The slight wince of her hands as she reached for the chopped tomatoes didn't escape Noah's sight.

A familiar pang of guilt twisted in his chest.

Ramiya wasn't supposed to be here, not after the mild stroke she'd suffered last month. Her doctor had made it very clear-no stress, no anxiety, no overexertion.

She was supposed to be resting, staying away from the clatter and heat of the kitchen. But here she was, chopping, cooking, stirring-doing almost all of Noah's works.

And why?

Because of me. Noah thought bitterly. Because I lost control of . . . of whatever the fuck that was!

He was supposed to be the calm one.

The level-headed one.

The one to hold everyone together.

The one to manage everything.

And yet, once again, he had lost his cool.

That rush of anger earlier . . . those lights flickering, that knife slamming down, that strange cackle of energy in the air-it was happening again. And every time Noah's emotions-his anger-spiraled, it followed.

He didn't understand it, couldn't explain it, but every time it came, Noah was left shaken, his heart racing as if his body was trying to contain something wild and uncontrollable.

Obviously, something was very very wrong with his body and that thought absolutely terrified him. Terrified Ramiya.

"Hey," Ramiya's voice tugged Noah out of his thoughts, a soft hum of garlic sizzling in the background. "You planning to squish those meatballs into dust? Or are we gonna have something left to eat?"

Noah blinked down at his hands, realizing only now that he'd been pressing too hard-the meat almost spilling through his fingers.

He gave a sheepish grin, trying to roll the meat back into a proper shape. "Oops! Err, sorry."

Ramiya arched an eyebrow, a playful glint in her eye, "Lost in thought, are we?"

Noah shrugged, offering a noncommittal grunt. "Mmn."

"Oh? Who's it about this time? A boy or a girl?"

Noah rolled his eyes, catching the mischief in her tone. He let out a dramatic sigh, then replied flatly, "Nobody."

"Oh, come on! You can tell me. I won't tell anyone!" Ramiya whined.

"Maman!" Noah groaned, exasperated.

"Ugh, fine! You're no fun," Ramiya said with a mock pout before turning back to stir the sauce.

The soft clatter of the wooden spoon against the pan resumed once again, mixing with the rich aroma of onions, garlics, and tomatoes simmering together. Then Ramiya reached over to grab a sprig of fresh basil from the windowsill. She tore the leaves gently, sprinkling them over the sauce with care. The fresh basil hit the bubbling pot, releasing its vibrant, peppery fragrance that immediately added a new layer to the already intoxicating smell filling the kitchen, making Noah's stomach growl.

"It smells incredible, maman," Noah said.

"As it should! After all I'm the one making it, yeah?" Ramiya wiggled her brows at him before scooping up a little bit of sauce on a tea-spoon. She tasted it, closing her eyes for a brief moment as if to savor the flavors before giving a small nod of approval.

Noah felt a smile creep up his lips. His maman had always been like this-a source of warmth and comfort for him, no matter the situation.

She could make a joke out of anything, deflecting the weight of the world with a well-placed quip or a flash of that warm smile. It was easy to forget, sometimes, that she was nearly sixty. Her long black hair had long since given way to streaks of silver, fine lines creasing the corners of her eyes and mouth-testaments to the years she had dedicated to the orphanage and the countless children who had passed through its doors. She had taken them in, given them her surname-Noah included. Even now, despite the weariness in her bones, she stood strong, trying to make a hearty meal for the kids who still lived under the roof she had built.

She was their maman, as she had been for Noah, and nothing seemed to slow her down.

"Why are you so quiet tonight?" Ramiya asked, her tone turning serious as she turned to face him.

Noah's electric blue eyes met her soft brown ones for a moment, then Noah looked away, shrugging, not quite sure how to put into words the storm brewing inside him. "Just thinking . . . about everything."

"Well, you're thinking too hard. Again," there was a softness in her tone as she spoke, a knowing. "You know, Noah, you don't have to worry so much. You don't have to carry all the burden alone."

Noah swallowed, "I just feel like . . . I should be-I don't know, better at handling things. Especially now."

"You're already doing more than enough, Noah. Don't let that brain of yours convince you otherwise."

But it was hard not to.

Every time something went wrong-Isaac getting sick, the orphanage falling apart-it felt like more proof that Noah wasn't enough. And with the increased frequency of his episodes nowadays, Noah felt like he was slowly unraveling.

The orphanage had survived through so much, mostly thanks to Ramiya's constant presence. She was the backbone of this place, had been for decades. And now, her health was slipping, and Noah had to step up, be the man and save the day . . .

But how could he, when he couldn't even control whatever strange sickness was brewing inside him?

"You don't need to worry about Isaac for now," Ramiya said after a moment, her voice low but soothing. "Emily is going to handle the bills."

"What?" Noah squinted, "Emily? How?"

"She's been talking to a friend over at the hospital. Said he has connections with the administration."

Noah raised an eyebrow, genuinely surprised. "Since when does Emily have friends in hospital management?"

Ramiya chuckled, adding a pinch of sugar into the sauce, followed by a generous dash of oregano. "Actually, he's a doctor. He . . . treated her after . . . the accident . . . anyways, what's more important is that this doctor friend of Emily's managed to get us, let's say, a bit of an extension."

"Extension? For the bills?"

"Mmhmm," Ramiya nodded, her voice gentle but firm. "We've got some breathing room now. So you don't have to stress about the money. She's handling it."

"Oh," Noah felt his shoulders loosen, the tension easing slightly from him as he nodded. "That's-that's a relief. I've been . . . so worried about how we were going to cover Isaac's bills."

"I know, Noah. But you don't have to shoulder this alone anymore. Emily's doing everything she can, and so are we. We'll find a way."

Noah swallowed, pressing his lips together, the knot of anxiety inside his chest loosening another fraction.

Emily-Noah hadn't even seen her today. She was always so busy nowadays, working tirelessly around the orphanage. After her Olympic dreams had shattered along with her knees, she had returned to the orphanage to heal, both physically and emotionally, and had become a steady presence ever since. The kids adored her, and she worked just as hard as Noah to keep the orphanage running.

And Emily had always been quite a bit of resourceful. She had friends in a lot of places. Although after everything that went down her figure skating career-those scandals and injuries-a lot of those friends had turned their backs on her . . .
But now It seemed that she had met quite a few people along the way who stuck around . . .

"I've never . . . properly thanked her for anything," Noah said, his voice catching slightly. "She's-she's actually doing a lot. Helping a lot."

"It's because she wants to, Noah," Ramiya said, gently, looking over at him. "That's the thing, Noah. You've got people here who care-Emily, me, the kids . . . we're a big-ass family and you are not alone. You don't have to bear the weight of the world on your own."

Noah didn't reply, staring at his maman instead. Then he noticed the warm smile slowly gracing Ramiya's face . . . and Noah found himself smiling back, hope bubbling inside his chest.

Everything is going to be okay.

Before he could dwell too much on that thought though, the door creaked open, and Mia stepped in.

"Hey, Noah," she tossed a quick wave towards Noah before marching straight to Ramiya, a slightly crumpled envelope held out in front of her, "Maman, this letter came for you. Emily picked it up earlier."

"Oh! I see," Ramiya wiped her hands on a towel and took the letter from Mia, turning it over in her hands, eyeing the sender's address with furrowed brows. "And where is Emily now?"

"Fixing the lights in the hallway," Mia shrugged, crossing her arms over her chest, "Anyways, I'm done here."

She turned to leave but paused at the threshold, casting a glance at the meatballs, her expression caught somewhere between amusement and mild disapproval, "You need to shape those better, Noah. They're all wonky."

Noah flushed, "I, uh-sorry,"

Mia smirked, shaking her head. "Well, at least they're better than last time. Barely."

And with that, she was gone, but not before Noah caught her muttering under her breath as she walked down the hall. "Such old geezers. Who the fuck even uses letters these days? Could've just emailed."

Noah chuckled at that.

"She's got a point," he said, glancing back at Ramiya, his voice light with amusement.

"What?" Ramiya blinked at him, confused, her fingers busy tearing open the brown envelope, her thoughts clearly elsewhere.

"Mia said-" Noah began, but his voice trailed off, his grin faltering as the realization hit him with a jolt.

His heart skipped a beat.

Ramiya hadn't heard Mia mutter under her breath.

But Noah had.

And hearing people mutter under their breaths wasn't normal.

Not for most people.

But Noah wasn't like most people.

He could always hear things-whispers that were never meant to reach his ears, the softest mutters and curses uttered just outside of the hearing range . . .

And not just sometimes.

All the time. Within a certain radius.

It was another manifestation of the strange thing happening to him. Another sign of that sickness growing inside him . . .

Noah's hands stilled, the cold meat squelching under his fingers, but all he could think about was the rush of unease flooding his chest.

Noah swallowed hard, his throat tight as he forced himself to turn back to Ramiya, hoping that she hadn't noticed the sudden shift in his mood.

She hadn't.

Instead, all of Ramiya's attention was on the letter now, her fingers tightly clutching the edges, further crumpling the already battered paper. Her eyes were darting over the words with an almost frantic focus, the furrows in her brow increasing. Her face had gone ashen, that warm smile completely vanishing from her lips. Her shoulders were rigid, her entire body unnaturally still, as though frozen in place.

Something wasn't right.

"Maman?" Noah tried to sound casual though his voice came out strained, his heart giving a lurch inside his ribcage.

His maman didn't respond.

Noah's eyes flicked nervously between her face and the piece of paper clutched tightly in her hands.

"Maman?" He called out again, this time louder, a cold knot twisting in his stomach. "What's that?"

Still nothing.

Ramiya didn't move, didn't blink. Her lips were pressed into a thin, tight line, her knuckles white from the force of her grip, and for a moment, Noah was certain she was going to tear the letter apart right there in front of him.

A feeling of dread clawed into his chest.

What's going on?

Noah stood abruptly, his chair scraping across the floor. His hands, slick with cold grease and bits of meat, trembled as he moved to the sink, quickly rinsing off his fingers under the cool stream of water. He tried to remain calm, tried to control himself . . . but inside him, a gnawing anxiety twisted tighter with every second of Ramiya's frozen silence. He wiped his hands dry on a handkerchief as he moved towards his maman with slow, cautious steps.

"Maman?"

"H-huh?" Ramiya finally seemed to snap out of her daze, her eyes blinking rapidly.

"Oh! N-Noah!" she stammered, her voice unsteady as she looked up at him, as if only just now realizing he was standing in front of her.

"What's wrong, maman? What's in that letter?"

"W-What? No-Nothing! It's . . . nothing!" She said, her hands shaking as she hurriedly folded the letter, trying to put it back into the torn envelope.

"Maman-"

"Just some stupid paperwork!" she said, but her voice was tight, like she was holding something back.

Noah narrowed his eyes, suspicion prickling at the back of his mind. He knew Ramiya too well-knew every small shift in her expression, every tell she had when something was off.

And right now?

Everything about her screamed off.

"You sure about that?" he asked, taking a careful step closer, trying to keep his voice light, but there was no mistaking the urgency creeping in.

"I said it's fine," she snapped, the sharpness in her tone catching Noah off guard. It was too quick, too defensive, and only made him more certain that it wasn't fine at all.

His gaze flicked to the letter again, now tucked under Ramiya's arm as she turned back to the stove, her movements jittery.

The rich aroma of the tomato sauce still filled the kitchen, but it felt distant now and the delicious smell did nothing to ease the knot tightening in Noah's stomach.

"Maman," he tried again, his voice softer, more careful. "If something's wrong, you can tell me. You know that, right?"

Ramiya stiffened, her back turned to him as she stirred the sauce, the wooden spoon moving in slow, deliberate circles. "There's . . . n-nothing to tell, Noah. It's . . . just-"

Ramiya couldn't finish the sentence.

Her grip faltered, the spoon clattering against the floor.

Noah surged forward, crossing the remaining distance in two quick strides, reaching out for Ramiya as she swayed on her feet. "Maman!"

Ramiya's breath was coming in shallow, uneven gasps, and her body seemed to lose its strength all at once. The letter slipped and fluttered to the floor, forgotten as her hands flew to Noah's chest, clutching the fabric of his shirt as if trying to steady herself.

"Maman! What-What's happening?" Noah's eyes went wide with panic as he caught her just before she collapsed, her knees buckling beneath her.

He barely managed to slide his arms around her waist, lowering her gently to the floor, cradling her head on his shoulder.

His heart pounded in his chest as he looked down at her-she was pale, too pale and each ragged breath she took seemed to pull her further away from him.

"Emily! Jonah!" Noah called out for help, his voice echoing through the kitchen, raw and desperate.

Ramiya's body trembled in his arms, her eyes glassy with fear, her chest rising and falling in uneven pattern.

"It's okay. You're okay," Noah murmured, his voice breaking as he tried to keep calm, but fear gripped him-hard and unrelenting.

He didn't know what the fuck was happening-didn't know how to help her.

"Emily!" His shout was louder this time, frantic.

The glass panes in the kitchen windows rattled, trembling from the force of his voice.

"Stay with me, Maman," he whispered to Ramiya, his voice barely audible as he rocked her gently in his embrace, his hands shaking uncontrollably. "Just breathe, okay? Deep breaths. Deep-fuck!"

"Emily!" Noah roared.

The windows finally gave in, shattering, sending shards of glass crashing to the floor.

"The fuck are you screaming like a boar--oh God! Maman!" Emily arrived at the doorway and froze, taking in the sight in front of her with shocked wide eyes. Then she rushed to Noah's side, dropping to her knees beside him.

She grabbed Ramiya's hand, her own fingers shaking. "Maman! What happened?"

"Do something!" Noah's voice cracked as he looked up at Emily, his eyes pleading. "Call an ambulance! Call a doctor! Anything!"

"I-I'll call Andrew!" Emily fumbled for her phone, her hands trembling as she dialed. "Hold on to her!"

"Ma-Maman, you'll be fine. Just-breathe," Noah murmured into Ramiya's hair, his voice thick with fear as he cradled her closer. "Please, just breathe."

Behind them, the tomato sauce began to burn, filling the kitchen with the sharp, bitter smell of char.

______________________________________________________________

A/N:- This story is purely fictional and written for entertainment purposes only. I do not intend to disrespect anyone. So, please don't feel offended. ^^

CHAPTER WORD COUNT - 3080