Mina spoke up, voice softer than I'd ever heard it. "Pastor, my family… we carry old blood. Not by choice. My grandmother bound it generations ago to protect us, but sometimes the old things wake up. That demon tonight—it was hunting me. Not Deji. Me."She glanced at me, eyes shining with something like fear and apology. "I didn't want to drag anyone in. Especially not… him."The "him" carried weight. Like she meant more than just the pastor's son.Dad rubbed his temples. "Supernatural attacks in my own estate. After everything I built here to keep the old ways out." He looked tired. Older. "Mina, you will stay the night—in the guest room. Tomorrow we pray. We seek counsel. And Deji…"He fixed me with that stare that used to make me confess stealing extra communion biscuits when I was seven."…you will keep your distance until we understand what this means for your future in this church."Distance. The word landed like a stone in my stomach.Later, after Dad went to pray in his study (I could hear him pacing and murmuring scripture), Mina and I stole five minutes on the back porch. The estate was quiet now, crickets singing like nothing had happened.She bumped my shoulder with hers. "So… your dad's intense. Kinda hot when he's all righteous, though. In a scary-old-man way."I choked on a laugh. "Mina!""What? I'm traumatized. Humor helps." She grinned, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Seriously, Deji. You should listen to him. I'm… complicated. My powers aren't cute shadows. They come with debts. And enemies."I turned to face her fully. The moonlight made her braids look like woven night. "You saved me. I saved you. That four-headed thing is gone because we fought together. That doesn't feel like debt. It feels like… us."She bit her lip, then did the thing that always undid me—she laughed, short and surprised. "You're such a hopeless romantic, church boy. Next you'll write me a worship song about shadow demons.""Only if you promise not to sing it," I shot back.We both laughed quietly, shoulders shaking, until the tension broke a little.Then she grew serious again. "I'll tell you everything tomorrow. My real name. My family's curse. Why my voice is… like that." She gestured vaguely at her throat, remembering her terrible singing that first day. "It's not just bad luck. It's a seal."Before I could ask more, Dad's voice called from inside: "Deji. Bed."Mina stood on tiptoe and pressed the quickest, softest kiss to my cheek. "Don't renounce me yet, okay?"She slipped inside.I stayed on the porch a minute longer, touching the spot she kissed, Bible still clutched in my other hand. It felt warm now—not burned, but alive. Like something inside me was waking up too.That night I dreamed of my mother smiling in light, whispering, "Choose love, Deji. Even when it scares you."When I woke, the estate felt different. Charged. Like the church bells might ring any second—not for service, but for war.And Mina's secret? It was only the beginning.