Chapter 667: A Reporter and My Another Sibling

The Incubus System Chapter 657. A Reporter and My Another Sibling

I had not seen her since that traumatic experience, and I was caught off guard by her sudden appearance.

"Hi," she said, her voice a melodic symphony that carried a hint of curiosity. "How are you? Why are you here?" she said as she approached me.

I felt my guard rise instantly, like an impenetrable fortress being erected around my heart. I was not in the mood for a conversation, especially not with a reporter who had caused me so much stress in the past. Memories of our prior encounters flooded my mind, reminding me of the danger that seemed to follow her wherever she went.

"Don't meddle in my affairs," I warned her, trying to hide the annoyance in my voice. Yet my displeasure was clear from my tone.

Elenna's smile faded, replaced by a look of concern. She held up her hands in surrender, a gesture meant to placate and soothe. "I'm sorry," she said, her voice soft and apologetic. "I didn't mean to upset you. I just wanted to say hello and see how you're doing." Though it sounded genuine, I wasn't sure due to my unstable emotion.

"I'm doing well," I said, my voice guarded. "But I don't have time for small talk. I have important business to attend to." My expression was unyielding, like a stone wall that refused to be breached.

"Calm down, Ethan." She must have sensed my discomfort, for she held up her hands in a gesture of peace. "I just want to say hello and I promise, I'm not here to interview you again," she repeated, her voice filled with a sincerity that was difficult to ignore. "I'm just here to check some files about a crime that happened around here."

Her words caught my attention, and I felt a twinge of curiosity. Despite my reservations, I found myself drawn to her, wanting to know more about the crime that had brought her to the police station. Who knew it related to demons since she was only interested to that kind of case.

"Really?" I asked, my voice tinged with skepticism. "What kind of crime?"

Elenna's eyes lit up with excitement, and she leaned forward, eager to share the details of her latest investigation. "It was a robbery," she said, her voice low and full of intrigue. "I'm working on a story, and I thought I would gather some information while I'm here."

But before I could reply, another voice interrupted our conversation. "Ethan." A girl's voice called me.

I turned to face the source of the intrusion, and my eyes were met with the sight of my step-sister, Tiffany. She approached us with a worried expression on her face. I could see the turmoil in her eyes, the pain, and the confusion.

"Tiffany," I said, acknowledging her presence with a nod of my head.

Sensing our sour moods, Elenna quickly excused herself. "I guess I came at a bad time," she said, her words full of regret. "I will excuse myself then." And with that, she was gone, leaving Tiffany and me alone in the police station lobby.

I looked at Tiffany, seeing the sadness etched into her features. It was palpable in the way she held herself and in the expression on her face. Her eyes were clouded and her brow was furrowed with a sense of impending doom. Her voice trembled as she spoke, giving away the depth of her emotional turmoil. I felt a pang of sympathy as I took in the sight of her. She was like a fragile bird, ready to take flight at any moment.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice thick with emotion.

I hesitated for a moment, unsure if I wanted to reveal the truth to her. But then, I mustered the courage to answer. "I came to see my mother," I replied, my tone revealing nothing of the hurt and anger I felt inside.

Tiffany's expression softened as she finally realized why I was there. "Oh," she said. "We are the same then. I'm here for my dad," she added in the same melancholy tone.

She exhaled a long breath, her bottom lip quivering. It was as if she was trying to hold back a tidal wave of emotions.

I reached out and gently took her hand in mine, offering what little comfort I could. "Let's go to a coffee shop," I suggested. "This is not a good place to talk." It wasn't just for her, but also for me. She was the only one I could talk to since I didn't want to mention mom again in front of Celia. At least, I wanted her to calm down first.

Tiffany nodded; her eyes filled with gratitude.

Together, we left the building and made our way toward the nearest coffee shop. The sun was shining bright. The breeze was warm, carrying the scent of freshly brewed coffee and baked pastries. But despite the beauty of the day, none of us let out a sound or looked around. There wasn't any excitement on our faces either despite we just met again after a few months.

We walked in silence; our steps were measured and deliberate. We finally reached the coffee shop and found a small, cozy corner where we could sit and talk.

The exterior of the cozy small coffee shop was inviting and warm. The walls of the shop were painted a rich, caramel color that complemented the dark wood paneling. Large windows on either side of the door allowed natural light to flood the interior.