Page 59 of Johan.

Arthur's face falls, but he quickly recovers, his determination shining through. “Please, Johan! You have to see Drago! He breathes fire!”

Johan chuckles, unable to resist Arthur's enthusiasm. “Alright, alright. Lead the way, Sir Arthur.”

Arthur beams, grabbing Johan’s hand and practically dragging him upstairs. I take this moment to slip away and check my own bedroom, the one I have missed so much.

Entering my room feels like stepping into a time capsule; everything is as I left it, each item a precious piece of my past. My collection of oddities lines the shelves, each one a story, a memory. As I examine my treasures, my eyes fall on an item that stands out—a vintage erotic ring. The ring, made of intertwined naked female figures, is over 160 years old. I remember how it had been sold for $2600 in an antique shop in Amsterdam before I had stolen it, unable to resist its allure.

I take the ring in my hand, its cool metal sending a shiver through me. An idea begins to form in my mind, vague but intriguing. Slipping the ring into my pocket, I decide to check on Arthur and Johan.

I find them in Arthur's room, Johan sitting on the floor, listening attentively as Arthur enthusiastically shows off his toys. Arthur's voice is animated, his little hands moving expressively as he talks.

“And this one,” Arthur says, holding up the toy dragon, “is Drago. He breathes fire and can fly super high!”

Johan nods seriously. “Wow, Drago sounds amazing. Can he protect the castle from invaders?”

Arthur’s eyes light up. “Yes! He’s the bravest dragon ever. And he has a friend, Sir Knight,” he adds, grabbing a small knight figurine. “They go on adventures together.”

Johan smiles. “Do you think Sir Knight would like to meet my old action figure? He’s a space ranger.”

Arthur’s jaw drops in awe. “A space ranger? That’s so cool! Drago and Sir Knight can help him on space missions!”

Johan chuckles, clearly enjoying Arthur’s enthusiasm. “I think they’d make a great team.”

Leaving them to their bonding, I make my way downstairs to find my mother. She is in the kitchen, the familiar aroma of freshly brewed tea welcoming me. She smiles warmly as I enter, her eyes lighting up with maternal affection.

Leaving them to their bonding, I make my way downstairs. (This sentence repeats from paragraph above) My stomach growls, reminding me that I haven't eaten much today, so I head to the kitchen to grab a few cookies to eat. The familiar aroma of freshly brewed tea and the sight of twinkling holiday lights welcome me. As I enter, I find my mom there, preparing a pot of tea. She looks up, a warm smile spreading across her face, her eyes lighting up with maternal affection.

“Hello, sweetheart,” she greets me, setting the teapot down. We embrace, her hug soothing some of my frazzled nerves.

“It’s so good to be back,” I say, pulling back but keeping my hands on her arms.

“I’m so glad you’re here, love. Would you like some tea?” she asks, already reaching for an extra cup.

I nod, taking a seat at the kitchen bar. The warmth of the teacup seeps into my hands, a comforting contrast to the chilloutside. Mom joins me, pouring tea into the cups. I reach for a plate of freshly baked cookies on the counter, my stomach growling in anticipation. The cookies are warm and soft, filling me with a sense of home.

She observes me closely, her brow furrowing with concern. “Where’s Johan?”

“Upstairs, playing with Arthur,” I reply, trying to keep my voice steady.

Mom smiles, a knowing look in her eyes. “Well, Johan just made his day, then.” She then pauses, sipping her tea again, her gaze unwavering. “What’s wrong, honey?”

“Nothing,” I fidget with my cup, my fingers tracing the rim, before raising the cup up to my lips.

She leans forward slightly, her gaze intent. “I know you well enough to see that something is bothering you.”

I hesitate, biting my lip, before finally giving in. “It’s the NYE’s ball Astrid is hosting. She invited Johan but not me. He has to go to maintain appearances, but I’m tired of being a third wheel—Elise even called me his mistress—and the anxiety of knowing Astrid will be all over him leaves me uneasy.”

Mom’s brow furrows deeper, her concern growing more evident. She takes a deep breath, her fingers tapping the table gently before she speaks again. “Can I ask a more intrusive question?”

I nod, feeling a knot form in my stomach.

“Why is Johan still with Astrid if he’s with you?” she asks, her eyes searching mine for answers.

“It’s complicated, Mom.”

She taps a few fingers on her mug, her expression just as guarded. “I’m sure I can understand.”

I take a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. “He needs to gather evidence against her dad, and then he can breakoff with her.” I look down, unable to meet her gaze, feeling the turmoil inside me churn.

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