"Mummy, can you please come out here?" Cammy screamed in panic, the word 'Kamdev' on the book's cover taunting her more than Becca-and-Reggie-moments she couldn't get used to in school. As far as she knew, Kamdev was just their last name—and yes, she knew what it meant. Her grandmother—father's side, sour disposition—had tried to explain it to Cammy when she was still running around with boogers in her nose, and grazes on her knees from 'unknown' sources.

"What is it, sweetie? Why are you screaming like a Banshee?" Her dad came around the corner, tablet still in hand, his gaze still glued to whatever was so important on his screen. "Mum's on the phone with a client..."

When Mr Kamdev glanced up from his tablet briefly to eye his bewildered, wild-eyed daughter, he spotted the small stature man standing beside her with a candy-sweet smile.

"Agent 459?" The man began eagerly inching towards Cammy's dad to her further bewilderment. "I had not realised Camille is your progeny. How lucky of me to get to train the offspring of one of the most legendary, selfless Kamdev of our times?"

"The honour is truly mine, sir!" Agent 777-slash-Cupid 777-slash-preferred-name-Aziz, extended a hand with a fan-girl look on his face towards Cammy's dad. "I've only seen you in our brochures and conferences—from a far, of course."

"Agent 45—dad? Do you know this man?" Cammy asked, turning to eye him as her mother stepped out of the wide hallway to join them.

Getting off the phone, Rati Kamdev asked, "What's going on here, Krish?" Just as Aziz's mouth flew open in surprise.

"Oh, dear sweet holy mother of ours. Agent 776? You're with Krishna Kamdev, the Krishna Kamdev?"

"Please, can we tone down the surprise, and call me Krish."

Cammy stood flabbergasted, as her dad greeted the man with a warm, welcoming smile and her mother conversed with him as if she'd met a dear old friend with a side of awkwardness—not looking like either of them were about to send Aziz away soon.

"Mum? Dad?" Cammy feared to interrupt as she stood gawking at three adults talking in codes like spies. "Mummy? What's going on?"

She snuck her hand up, waiting for her turn to speak. "Can someone please tell me what is going on?"

That's when her mother finally turned to her and said, "Have a seat, hun. This is going to take a while."

She was pointing at the lounge in the family room.

Cammy reluctantly followed her parents into the open-plan area and sat gingerly on the end of the shorter sofa.

Before she could ask a question, or ten, her father spoke. "Camille."

His serious tone sent a shiver down her spine, chilling her to her bones. Her achy, itchy shoulder blades forgotten for once.

A gentle smile lingered on her father's face as he said, "Hold on to something, sprout."

Then the most bizarre thing happened. A moment Cammy had never imagined and will never forget in her life, one suspects.

A gorgeous, achingly bright set of white wings with occasional tawny feathers amidst a white plume unfurled behind Krish, nearly as tall and nearly as wide as the room. Magnificent, beastly, beautiful.

Cammy's jaw fell, and might have completely hit the floor, were that possible. She blinked wildly—trying to make sense of what she was seeing. A set of angel wings. Her father's wings.

HER FATHER'S WINGS!

"You're?" Cammy tried to speak, but no words, no questions felt adequate, proper—sufficient. "You've got..."

"Wings?" Her mother sat beside her on the seat and grabbed her hand gently. "Breathe, baby. Breathe."

"Dad—has wings?"

Rati nodded. "We all do. Mr Sultan, do you mind?"

Aziz smiled timidly beside Krish but obliged, saying, "Mine's not nearly as impressive as your dad's, but..."

Behind him, a set of midnight-blue wings glistening like black diamonds furled out, half the size of Krish's, but equally beautiful—equally otherworldly.

Cammy's jaw dropped a little further. She turned to her mother; a bit frightened, a bit lost, and damn it to hell if she wasn't a tad bit curious. "Do you?—have wi... wings?"

Rati smiled. Did she ever! "Let's go outside."

Outside?

Cammy turned to her father, no longer looking divine, but back to his usual boring self, which she now knew was far from the truth—as far as the moon was from earth.

He pulled Cammy into his arms and gave her shoulder an encouraging squeeze. "You better grab your sunnies, sport. This is going to be something!"

There was something in his voice that made Cammy think she was about to see something terrifying—which she could imagine, since her mother was truly a feisty woman. Or, it was going to be something that would be beyond words. The thought of the former sent her heart racing. Did she really want to see her mum's wings?

Did she?

WC: 813              TWC: 3662

[A/N: This is part one of chapter three.  Please forgive the short length. I felt this was a natural pause in the chapter and I can't write anymore tonight... phone too tiny, me typing with one thumb... not exactly the fasted way to write a story. 😂

Alas, if you were Cammy, what do you think she is about to witness?

P. S. If you see any errors, please point them out. Really helps me during editing. Many thanks. 🙏]