My Anti-hero Fairy System

"Should I repeat the question?" Sheriff Hader asked, concern creeping into his voice as he noticed Cara's delayed response.

"No, I heard you," Cara said quickly, buying herself a moment. "I'm just trying to piece everything that happened last night together."

"For a moment there, I thought I lost you," the sheriff said, his tone softening slightly. "Just tell me anything you remember."

Cara took a steadying breath and began weaving her story. "Okay. I remember waking up in the morgue last night, freezing cold, and realizing I was the only one there, well, aside from the corpses. It was... jarring, to say the least. I had no idea how I ended up there. The only thing I could recall was my mom talking about her new man and me being a total brat about it."

Sheriff Hader frowned slightly. "So, what happened afterward?"

"Well, mom married him anyway," Cara replied, attempting a small joke to deflect.

"I wasn't talking about that," the sheriff said, cutting through her deflection. "What happened after you woke up?"

Cara forced a nervous laugh. "Oh, right. After I woke up, I looked for something to cover myself from the cold. I found my waitress uniform in morgue drawer, as I was getting dressed, someone walked in and startled me. He moved toward me really fast, and for some reason, I panicked. It felt like he was going to attack me, so I reacted on instinct. I managed to put him in a headlock, a very tight one, and he passed out. Then I ran out of there as fast as I could."

The sheriff's eyebrows lifted slightly. "And then?"

"Outside the hospital, I ran into a man who recognized me. He offered to help and took me home."

"What's this man's name?"

"Darren," Cara replied without hesitation.

"Did you catch his last name?"

"I don't think so, but I know he lives near the mayor's house. He's a veterinarian."

Sheriff Hader nodded slowly, processing her story. "Alright, that will do for now. If I have any further questions, I'll be in touch." He stood, signaling the end of their conversation.

As he moved to leave, a realization hit Cara like a bolt of lightning. Wait a second. She glanced at the sheriff, incredulous. Did I just give a statement and he didn't write anything down?

"Hold on!" she called out, stopping him in his tracks. "Were you just taking my statement without writing anything down? What if you forget something?"

Sheriff Hader turned back to her, an amused smile on his face. "I don't forget. I've been blessed with a photographic memory. Don't worry, I've got it all right here," he said, tapping his temple.

Cara wasn't convinced, but she let it go..for now.

The sheriff's expression grew serious as he added, "Take care of yourself, Cara. And stay away from the Scott brothers. They're horrible pieces of human garbage. If you remember anything else, give me a call."

With that, he walked away, leaving Cara to digest everything, and to wonder how much of her story he actually believed.

—-----

—-----

Cara headed into the diner's kitchen to grab a customer's order of chicken and fries but stopped short when she saw Farrah at the stove, cooking instead of serving tables.

"Farrah, are you a cook now too?" Cara asked, surprised to see her friend wielding a spatula instead of an order pad.

Farrah turned, grinning. "Oh, you don't remember yet? Well, I'm going to culinary school, and Jackie was kind enough to let me practice in the diner's kitchen."

As Farrah spoke, a memory trickled into Cara's mind—Farrah enthusiastically telling her about her plans to enroll in culinary school.

'Why haven't the memories of Cara's last day come back yet?' She asked Hagrit.

[These things take time. Maybe you don't need that memory right now.]

'And I need to remember this? My 'friend going' to culinary school?'

[I'm not the one calling the shots here.]

Cara smirked. "You mean she lets you do extra work?"

Farrah laughed, shaking her head. "No, don't say that. Jackie's a sweetheart. I just wonder what happened between you two before you died." She stirred a pot of sauce that filled the room with a rich, savory aroma.

Cara knew exactly why she and Jackie didn't get along, but this wasn't the moment to unpack that particular history. "Wow, this smells amazing," Cara said, steering the conversation elsewhere. "I wish I were the one who gets to eat it."

"Really?" Farrah asked, glancing over her shoulder with a grin.

"Yes, really. If you keep cooking like this, you'll be the best chef in town. Who knows? You might even open your own place someday," Cara said, sincerity lacing her words.

Farrah smiled at the compliment, her hands deftly stirring the pot before turning off the burner and lifting it off the stove. She set it aside, then asked, "So, how did it go with the Scott brothers?"

Cara rolled her eyes, her irritation flaring. "Those guys are the worst. All I did was ask for their order, and they completely lost it. If the sheriff hadn't shown up when he did, things could've gotten ugly."

"I told you they're nothing but trouble. Jackie's been trying to ban those racist bastards from the diner, but your stepfather keeps overruling her. He's the owner, after all, so he calls the shots," Farrah said, her voice heavy with frustration.

As her anger simmered, Cara noticed something strange. The burner Farrah had just turned off suddenly reignited, its flame surging higher and brighter than normal. One by one, the other burners flared to life, their blue-orange flames licking the air, growing more intense by the second.

Cara's stomach dropped as the heat in the room spiked. The kitchen was quickly turning into a blazing inferno.

"Farrah, what the hell—" Cara started, but then she saw her friend's eyes. They were glowing, flickering like embers in a raging fire.

Cara froze, realization dawning on her. Somehow, Farrah was doing this. She didn't know how or why, but it was clear her friend was connected to the chaos unfolding in the kitchen.