Aunt Bertha stood in the doorway, eyes wide as she took in the chaos—the shattered picture frames, the overturned chairs, the muddy footprints on the tile.
"What the hell happened to my house?"
Emma froze again. Nathan shifted uncomfortably behind her.
Bertha's eyes narrowed. "You better start explaining. And fast."
Emma stepped forward. "There was someone after me. We had to leave. We didn't have time to clean up—"
"Obviously," Bertha snapped, dropping her shopping bags on the counter with a loud thud. "You vanish for two days, don't answer your phone, and now my living room looks like a crime scene."
"There was a crime," Nathan said under his breath.
Bertha turned sharply to him. "I don't remember asking you."
Emma's mouth tightened, but she kept her voice calm. "We were in danger. A man named Dave helped us escape. He… he saved my life."
Bertha blinked. "Dave? Who is this Dave? Is that the same person you were with some nights ago?"
Emma's stomach twisted. " Yes and he was trying to protect me."
"Well, he clearly failed if this is what 'protection' looks like." Bertha stepped over a broken lamp. "You want to talk about danger? How about explaining to the police why there are bullet holes in the back wall?"
Emma looked away. The silence was heavy.
Bertha let out a dry laugh. "You're not even going to deny it, are you?"
"I'm telling you the truth," Emma said, her voice firmer now. "There was a group. They were after me because of something I could do. But it's gone now. I'm normal. They're gone. It's over."
Bertha stared at her. "You expect me to believe that? That you were some kind of special target? Please."
Nathan stepped forward. "She's telling the truth."
But Bertha was already turning away, muttering to herself. "Great. Just great. My niece is either delusional or wanted by god-knows-who. You better pray the neighbors didn't call the cops."
Emma stood frozen, the hollowness returning to her chest. The house felt colder than it had outside.
She glanced at Nathan, who gave her a slight nod—he was still with her.
Emma looked at the wreckage, then back at Bertha. "You don't have to believe me. But I survived. That's more than some people can say."
Bertha didn't respond.
Emma turned away, stepping over the broken glass, heading for her room. Her powers were gone. Dave was gone. But somehow, it felt like she was still running.