the Truth 2

With a sudden thud, Tomelo opened her eyes.

The darkness shattered.

She was no longer in the forest clearing, no longer surrounded by unseen girls or circling shadows. She lay on soft earth warmed by morning light. The scent of grass and sun filled her lungs as she gasped, sitting up sharply.

Someone was beside her.

Tomelo froze.

It was Thando.

He sat calmly, knees drawn up, a small pile of sunflower seeds resting in his open palm. His face was real—clear in a way the dream had never allowed. The same eyes she had felt watching her by the river now looked at her with quiet sadness.

Her heart pounded painfully.

For a moment, she could only stare, her mind struggling to stitch together night and day, dream and waking. Confusion clouded her face, but she forced her voice to steady.

“What… what are you doing here?” she asked.

Thando gave a small, tired smile. “I have been trying to give you these,” he said, lifting his hand slightly. The seeds rattled softly. “But you always run away from me.”

Tomelo swallowed. “I don’t understand. I’ve never—”

“Yes, you have,” he interrupted gently. “Just not with your eyes open.”

The words sent a shiver through her.

He looked away toward the trees. “You and I,” he continued, “we are meant to be together. That was decided long before we were born.” His voice lowered. “But because of your great-grandmother… we can’t be.”

Tomelo’s breath caught. The stories. The warnings. The unfinished things her grandmother had spoken of.

“What did she do?” Tomelo whispered.

Thando’s jaw tightened. “She broke a bond to save the living—and cursed the unborn to separation. Our paths were tied, then torn apart. Since then, I can only reach you through dreams. I can walk beside you only in the spaces between worlds.”

Silence fell between them, heavy and aching.

He turned back to her and held out the sunflower seeds. “So I am giving you these as a parting gift.”

“Why sunflowers?” Tomelo asked, her voice barely there.

“Because they always turn toward the sun,” Thando said softly. “Even when the night is long. Even when the sky is empty.”

Her eyes burned as she took the seeds, her fingers brushing his. The touch was warm—real—and yet already fading.

“What happens now?” she asked.

Thando stood. The light around him seemed thinner, as though he belonged more to memory than flesh. “Now you live,” he said. “You remember. And you choose your own path—one not ruled by old mistakes.”

His form began to blur.

“Will I see you again?” Tomelo asked, fear breaking through at last.

Thando smiled—sad, beautiful, final. “Every time the sunflowers bloom.”

Then he was gone.

Tomelo sat alone, clutching the seeds to her chest. Above her, the sun climbed higher, bright and unafraid. Somewhere deep within her, the weight she had carried for so long loosened.was this truly the end

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