My Seven Wives Are Beautiful Saintesses-Chapter 244 - 243: Small Things That Shouldn’t Move

Chapter 244: Chapter 243: Small Things That Shouldn’t Move

Morning in Y City arrived without ceremony.

A dull gray light slipped through the thin curtains, mixing with the hum of distant traffic and the occasional shout from the street below. The building creaked in familiar ways, pipes knocking softly as if reminding everyone inside that it was still standing, still working, still holding together just enough.

Daniel was already awake.

He sat on the edge of the bed, lacing his boots slowly, careful not to make too much noise. His body ached in that quiet, constant way that had long since stopped being worth mentioning. Another day, another shift, another stretch of hours that would blur together until evening.

He glanced over his shoulder.

Emily was still asleep, one arm draped loosely over the blanket. Beside her, Evan lay on his back, eyes open, staring at the ceiling like he always did when he woke up.

Quiet.

Too quiet sometimes.

Daniel stood and walked over, crouching beside the bed.

"Hey, buddy," he said softly.

Evan turned his head.

Their eyes met.

That same strange moment happened again.

It was brief.

So brief Daniel could almost convince himself it wasn’t real.

But it was there.

A pause.

Like the world had slowed for half a heartbeat.

Then Evan blinked.

And he was just a baby again.

Daniel let out a small breath, rubbing the back of his neck.

"You’re gonna make me think too much one day," he muttered.

Evan made a soft sound, somewhere between a coo and a hum.

Daniel smiled.

"Yeah, yeah. I know. Just go to work, right?"

He reached out, letting Evan grab his finger.

The grip was strong.

Always strong.

"Take care of your mom, okay?" Daniel said quietly. "I’ll be back before you know it."

Evan’s hand tightened slightly.

Then loosened.

Daniel stood, grabbing his jacket.

He hesitated at the door, looking back one more time.

Everything looked normal.

It always did.

Then he left.

The apartment settled into a slower rhythm once he was gone.

Emily woke not long after, stretching lightly before turning her head.

Evan was already watching her.

He always was.

"Good morning," she said softly, smiling.

Evan blinked.

She leaned over, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead.

"Did you sleep okay?"

He responded with a small sound, arms moving slightly.

Emily laughed.

"I’ll take that as a yes."

The morning passed in small, familiar routines.

Feeding.

Changing.

Cleaning what little there was to clean.

Evan stayed mostly calm, his attention drifting from one thing to another, though "drifting" never quite felt like the right word.

He didn’t seem distracted.

He seemed... focused.

On things that weren’t always there.

Around midday, Emily sat on the small couch, Evan resting in her arms.

The television was on, low volume, more for background noise than anything else. A daytime show played, voices rising and falling in a rhythm she barely registered.

Evan, however, was not watching it.

His gaze was fixed somewhere else.

Not on the screen.

Not on her.

Above.

To the side.

Emily followed his line of sight.

There was nothing there.

Just the wall.

She frowned slightly.

"What are you looking at?" she asked.

Evan didn’t respond.

His eyes remained steady.

Focused.

Emily shifted him slightly, adjusting her hold.

"Hey," she said softly. "Look at me."

Evan blinked.

Slowly.

Then turned his head toward her.

The moment passed.

Emily exhaled.

"Okay," she murmured. "That was weird."

She shook it off, reaching for the remote.

The television flickered.

For a split second, the image distorted.

Then it returned to normal.

Emily froze.

She looked at the screen.

Then at the remote in her hand.

She hadn’t pressed anything.

"Probably the signal," she said under her breath.

Old building.

Old wiring.

Things like that happened.

Still...

She glanced down at Evan.

He was calm.

Watching her now.

As if nothing had happened.

Emily forced a small smile.

"Yeah," she said quietly. "Just the signal."

Afternoon came and went.

The light shifted.

The apartment grew warmer, then cooler again as clouds passed over the sun.

Evan spent some time on the floor, propped up with soft cushions, small toys scattered around him.

He reached for them.

Grabbed them.

Examined them.

Normal.

Everything was normal.

Until it wasn’t.

Emily was in the kitchen corner, washing a few dishes in the small sink.

The water ran steadily.

Plates clinked softly.

Behind her, Evan sat quietly.

Then—

A soft sound.

Not loud.

Not sharp.

Just enough to draw her attention.

She turned.

One of the toys had rolled.

Slowly.

Across the floor.

Not dropped.

Not pushed.

Rolled.

In a straight line.

Then stopped.

Emily stared at it.

Her hands stilled in the water.

The sink continued running.

She looked at Evan.

He was watching the toy.

Then...

He looked at her.

Their eyes met.

And for a moment—

That same pause.

That same strange stillness.

Emily felt a chill run through her.

"Did you..." she started.

Then stopped.

He was a baby.

He couldn’t.

There had to be another explanation.

The floor wasn’t perfectly even.

Maybe it had tilted.

Maybe—

She turned off the water, drying her hands quickly as she walked over.

The toy lay still.

Harmless.

She nudged it with her foot.

Nothing.

No movement.

She crouched beside Evan, her heart beating just a little faster than before.

"Okay," she said quietly. "That was... not normal."

Evan blinked.

Then reached out.

His fingers brushed the toy.

It didn’t move this time.

Emily exhaled slowly.

"Yeah," she whispered. "Just... coincidence."

But she didn’t sound convinced.

Evening came.

The sky darkened.

The city lights flickered on, one by one, painting the streets in uneven color.

The door opened.

Daniel stepped in, shoulders heavy, exhaustion written in every movement.

"I’m home," he called.

"In here," Emily replied.

He dropped his tools by the door, stretching briefly before walking into the main room.

Evan lit up at the sound of his voice, small arms lifting slightly.

Daniel smiled instantly.

"Hey, there he is."

He bent down, scooping Evan up carefully.

"How was your day, huh?"

Evan made a soft sound, almost like a laugh.

Daniel chuckled.

"Yeah? That good?"

Emily watched them.

Quiet.

Thoughtful.

"What’s wrong?" Daniel asked, noticing her expression.

Emily hesitated.

Then spoke.

"Something weird happened today."

Daniel raised an eyebrow. "Weird how?"

She explained.

The television.

The toy.

The way things had moved.

Daniel listened.

At first, he nodded along.

Old wiring.

Uneven floors.

Drafts.

But as she continued...

His expression shifted.

Not to fear.

But to uncertainty.

"You’re sure?" he asked.

"I saw it," Emily said. "It wasn’t... normal."

Daniel looked down at Evan.

The baby stared back at him.

Calm.

Quiet.

Watching.

Daniel exhaled slowly.

"Probably just the apartment," he said. "You know how this place is."

Emily nodded.

"Yeah," she said.

But neither of them sounded convinced.

That night, after everything settled, after dinner, after Evan finally drifted to sleep...

The apartment grew still.

The city outside continued, distant and constant.

Daniel lay on the bed, one arm behind his head.

Emily lay beside him, staring at the ceiling.

"Do you think..." she started.

Daniel turned his head. "Think what?"

She hesitated.

Then shook her head.

"Nothing," she said.

Daniel didn’t push.

He understood.

Some thoughts felt too strange to say out loud.

They lay in silence.

Minutes passed.

Then—

From the corner of the room...

A faint movement.

Both of them saw it.

The curtain.

It shifted slightly.

There was no wind.

The window was closed.

The fan was off.

The fabric moved.

Just a little.

Then stilled.

Daniel slowly sat up.

Emily grabbed his arm.

"You saw that," she whispered.

"...Yeah," Daniel said.

They both turned.

Slowly.

Toward the bed where Evan slept.

He was still.

Peaceful.

Unaware.

Or maybe...

Not.

Because for just a moment—

His fingers moved.

And the air around them...

Felt different.

Not dangerous.

Not violent.

Just...

Listening.

Then everything returned to normal.

And the night carried on.

But now...

They both knew.

Something was not right.

And it had only just begun.