"What is happening?!" Heiren hissed, grabbing Zaque by the collar.
Coco had just rushed upstairs after she did her business in the living room and hasn’t co down since, which was an hour ago.
Kairo, Quizen, and Alhai will be coming ho soon, but they aren’t sure if the three diators will take in the news of Coco’s birth mother— her mother from where she originally ca from.
Just the thought of being face to face with the woman who had raised their living wife is already giving them a heart attack.
"I don’t know!" Zaque returned the passion of Heiren’s words, hissing back. "If I knew, then I would have told you what to do and what to say to her! Who do you think I am? God?!"
Heiren frowned and let go of Zaque’s collars because it was obvious that he, too, was confused.
Just how did Coco’s mother manage to et her? In this big, cruel world? Is fate trying to play a trick on their wife?
Coco hasn’t opened up about her life in her previous world and only told them that she died, more or less, by Lala’s hands— there were tis that Coco would look at sothing and a look of hurt would flicker in her gaze.
Whenever they catch her in that state, they will try their best to not touch the topic and just comfort her, but now, they are slightly regretting it.
"Did Coco tell you sothing about her family?" Heiren asked, turning in his heels and lifting the lid off the pot. "As far as I rember, the only thing she told was that she misses her mother."
It was only one ti— a slip of her tongue, maybe, but Heiren rembered it well.
Coco looked so hurt and heartbroken to the point Heiren felt like if he didn’t do anything at that mont, she would continue to slip through the gaps of his fingers.
"If Lala’s family is playing a joke on her, then I’m going to pray they get bad karma." Heiren mumbled, sprinkling black pepper and salt onto the dish. "Because if Coco’s mother is here, it must have ant that she also died back in their world."
Zaque nodded his head, approaching the kitchen counter and proceeding to pull out the loaves of bread that he had left earlier.
"You have a point, but if you take a look at her.." Zaque mumbled, trailing off slowly as he tried to find the right words to describe Coco’s mother. "Well, Coco.. Coco looks so much like her."
Heiren didn’t pause on stirring the pot, but he glanced at Zaque. "Coco looks like her mother? But she should be looking like the Baroness."
"Exactly." Zaque stated, pursing his lips. "I have seen the Baroness before, but Coco looks nothing like her and the woman she brought ho with her? She seed like the older version of Coco, with just dark blue hair?"
Cleora’s hair isn’t black.
It was blue, but it was dark enough to be mistaken as black, and Zaque saw a clear glimpse of her hair when he got dragged inside the house by Coco.
"That doesn’t make any sense." Heiren murmured, pulling the ladle out of the boiling broth and put the lid back onto the pot.
"You can check on her yourself." Zaque grunted out as he kneeled the dough. "I’m going to bake so cookies— I won’t be making it too sweet because she might not have a sweet tooth like Lala and Coco."
"Should I bring out the chocolate spread?" Heiren questioned, walking over to the sink and twisting the faucet on, washing his hands.
"Yes, please." Zaque smiled at him and turned back to dough. "I should probably make so bread with chocolate filling inside, shouldn’t I? It would be a perfect snack for Coco and that woman if they decided to catch up later on."
Heiren humd and opened the cabinets, the hinges creaking like they haven’t been oiled for a long ti.
"It seems like you are already convinced that she is her mother." The diator mumbled, grabbing the jar of chocolate spread from inside. "What’s the point of being doubtful if you’re already viewing her as her mother?"
Zaque pursed his lips before he sighed. "You will understand once you see her."
Heiren’s eyebrows knitted in worry and just placed the jar on the counter, then he exited the room, upset and doesn’t like that Zaque is willing to welco a woman he had just t.
As soon as Heiren walked out of the kitchen, the front door swung open.
Alhai, Kairo, and Quizen crowded the entryway, each one of them holding a bag of their own with eager looks on their faces.
"Hey, Heiren!" Quizen greeted him, smiling wide.
"Good evening, Heiren." Kairo nodded his head and walked down the hall. "Has Coco co back from work? I have sothing for he—"
The black haired diator stopped in his tracks, along with his words when he walked past the living room doorway, but he was quick to moonwalk his way back and peek his head inside the room.
His eyes went wide when his gaze landed on the woman sitting by the couch, the bag on his arms falling on the floor.
The mark on his neck, the symbol that he found on his skin after he was taken back to the cave, is pulsing quite painfully— tugging and writhing beneath his skin, as if it was telling him sothing regarding the woman.
Kairo gasped, sweat forming in his forehead and his breath slowly beca ragged.
His hand shot up to his throat, his palm covering the mark on his collarbone, and fought hard to run to the woman, his mind flashing with Coco’s warm smile.
"Kairo?!" Quizen and Alhai called, but their voices were asly background noise.
The woman by the couch hears the loud commotion and couldn’t help, but turn her head to look at the cause.
Why does she look like Coco?
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