They stood looking at each other awkwardly. Neither knew what to say in this situation. Ophelia was the first to break out of her stunned silence. She noticed that the woman looked at least a couple of years older than she rembered. The mories of the barn, the damp sll of old straw and wood, all rushed back.
"When did you get back?" she asked, not knowing how to start the conversation.
"Yesterday."
Silence descended once again.
It was the older woman who broke it this ti. "So, how are you holding up?"
"Fine," Ophelia lied. "And how about you?"
"Good." She tried to smile. "But… I’m still having nightmares about the barn."
"Um… sa. I still dream about it, too." Ophelia lied again. She didn't have any nightmares. She dread of the goddess. Her nights were filled with reverence, visions of rivers of stars, and strange places populated by disembodied voices telling her secrets she could never rember in the morning.
"So... how did you end up back here?" Ophelia tried changing the subject, a little clumsily, but the professor took the cue, as a sad smile made its way onto her face.
"Tom’s father brought us back. We’ve been talking to the police since we landed. I barely had ti to go back ho," the older woman explained. She then stopped, looking at Ophelia, finally realizing sothing. "Oh! Sorry. I don’t know what everyone else said, but I didn’t ntion you," she finished.
"Oh." Ophelia blinked, stunned. She was sure that the professor would bla her. After all, it was her choice. Her action. Her kill. "T-thank you. And I'm sorry," she started apologizing, but Brianna held up a hand.
“No. I should be the one thanking you.”
Ophelia stood there stunned. She didn’t know why, but she had expected anger or disgust, not gratitude.
"I an, you saved my life," the professor said softly.
“But … I killed Tom. You were going to sacrifice yourself, and I...” Her voice faded.
The professor’s expression turned sad.
"Ophelia..." She then paused. "I need so coffee," she suddenly said. "Would you like to join ?"
She hesitated for a second before nodding in confirmation.
The walk and the ordering were stiff and awkward. Ophelia did not know how to speak to the woman. She also had no idea what to expect. She still felt like she had ruined sothing noble, an act of selflessness, just to satisfy so base desire for revenge. But Miss Brianna didn’t seem bitter.
They finally sat down in a corner of the coffee shop, the awkward silence still between them. Tʜe sourcᴇ of thɪs content ɪs novel•fire
"So," Ophelia finally started talking. "How are things now?"
"Well," she hesitated for a second, but finally spoke. "For now, I'm suspended, but I'm pretty sure I’ll be fired soon."
Ophelia winced, feeling it was her fault. "Sorry," she said weakly.
"You don’t have to be sorry. You saved my life, and that counts for more than just a job." She smiled at her, and for the first ti, it looked genuine. “Honestly, the college and the laboratory work were taking a toll. My husband and I have been talking about moving sowhere quieter for so ti now. I think now's as good a ti as any.”
"But I feel like I turned sothing aningful into sothing selfish. I can’t imagine what you felt when volunteering and I… I–"
"It wasn't bravery, Ophelia. I simply felt it was my duty." Brianna straightened in the chair. "I've spent my life helping others. I'm not a doctor, but I worked behind the scenes. Late night shifts in hospitals, long, unpaid hours spent on bacterial cultures to push forward the trials. All so soone else could make money selling overpriced dicine. I thought sacrificing myself was my duty, the aningful thing I could give. But when I spoke those words back in the barn, I didn’t feel relief. I didn’t feel peaceful. I felt like I blindly followed a path, straight off a cliff."
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"We are all products of our environnt," Ophelia murmured absentmindedly.
"I guess so," the professor said, sipping her coffee. "So maybe from your perspective, you see your actions as revenge or murder. But from mine? You gave a second chance. A chance to hold my children, to kiss my husband. Did you think I wanted to leave my family alone?” A small hint of humor shone in her eyes. “Just because I've lived 50 years of my life doesn’t an I'm not interested in the rest of it. So… thank you."
For so ti, a comfortable silence had fallen over them.
"So, what happens now? Will you teach sowhere else?" Ophelia finally broke the silence. "You won’t get in legal trouble, will you?" she added, worry rising inside her again.
"Thankfully, no. Everyone was an adult. I was just a guide, not your caretaker." Ophelia felt a weight lift from her shoulders. "I'll hopefully get to teach high school in so peaceful town. Industry’s out of the question. Tom’s father isn’t exactly happy with . He has connections in pharma, so I doubt I’ll get a job in a decent lab ever again. But that's nothing to cry about. I wanted to spend more ti with my family anyway." She shrugged.
"Family," Ophelia echoed softly. Funnily enough, the first thought that ca to her mind was the black snake. She grimaced a bit at that.
"Sothing’s bothering you," the older woman stated rather than asked.
"Yeah," Ophelia admitted, making no effort to hide it. There was no point. It wasn't like she could pretend everything was alright.
"Well… If it’s sothing I could help you with, I'd like to. It's the least I could do for you."
She hesitated. She couldn’t exactly tell her that she had a creature curled up inside her soul, that gods and magic were real, and her supposed teacher was a murderous psychopath capable of bending reality with his will alone.
Ophelia mulled over how to phrase it until a question finally ca to her. "You have kids, right?"
"Yes," she nodded in confirmation.
"How do you think they should choose their path in life?"
Miss Brianna blinked, clearly stunned by the question. She sat back, thoughtful.
For a second, Ophelia thought she had asked sothing rude, but before she started apologizing, the professor began to talk. “Well, so that they are happy. I think that’s the most important part. There was a ti when my own sacrifices made happy. They felt worth it, gave purpose, aning. It’s when I realized how the system worked that it all changed. And I found other things that brought joy. Love. Family. Without them, it felt… hollow. So I’d want my kids to chase what brings them aning. What’s fulfilling.”
Ophelia let the words sink in. aning. Purpose. Both such big words. Both seed to be missing most of her life. But now she felt them. The fla of ambition slowly burned inside her. The dream of strength to decide her own fate. But were those even her feelings? Or a gift from her god?
"But what if what made them happy was dangerous? Like joining the army?"
The woman tilted her head. "Well, I’d hope there was sothing less dangerous. But if that’s really their path, then so be it."
"But what if you knew there was a better one?" Ophelia asked more aggressively this ti, feeling like she was arriving at an answer. "What if you knew they were ant for sothing specific? Would you put them to it, even against their will? Would you make that decision for them?"
"Would that make them happy?"
"Yes."
"Then yes."
"Okay, but what if–"
Ophelia started another question, but the professor interrupted.
“Wait,” she said, smiling. "Are you expecting a child, or are you the child in this taphor?"
Ophelia blushed a little. “Just thinking out loud.”
"Look. I don’t know what you're going through. And I have a feeling it’s sothing different from what the rest of us are dealing with after the barn. But if you feel it’s bringing you closer to happiness. Go for it. Enjoy your life, Ophelia. Whatever the path, own it. Make it your own.” She finished her coffee and looked Ophelia straight in the eyes. "And rember, even if you took a life, you also saved mine. And I won’t forget that."
She then got up, checking her phone. "I have to go back to my family. Goodbye, Ophelia. If we don’t see each other again... I hope you find your way.”
She started to leave, but paused at the doors. "Oh, and I don't know what others will testify, but even if there's no evidence against you. Please watch out for Tom’s father. His reputation is not exactly stellar..." There was a grimace on her face when she said that. Afterwards, she walked out, leaving Ophelia in the empty coffee shop.
Was she sure of what to do now?
No.
But she could see a path erging. It was like a fog inside her mind had dispersed a bit, showing an outline of a road. Where would it lead? She was not sure. But she would take it and find out. Maybe make her own path if needed, maybe one less bloody and murderous than her teacher’s. Or maybe she would beco just as much of a monster as he was.
She didn’t know.
She stepped out of the cafe. For the first ti since her return, her steps felt firm.
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