chapter 34
Avira
No matter how many times everyone tells me it’s not my fault, the reality doesn’t change. It is my fault. It should have been me in her place.
Zoan stands from his chair and comes toward me.
I’m sitting in his study. I’ve been with him for the last eleven days.
I need to know if there’s any progress in finding her.
But there is none, it’s like that guy is a ghost, appeared from nowhere and disappeared into nothing.
Every method has been used to find him, but nothing works.
Neither the old methods of physically tracking him nor the new technology.
He has become the most wanted criminal in every nation.
Forces from countless countries are searching, yet no one can find him.
Zoan kneels on the floor in front of me, holding my face. “She is fine.”
I look into his eyes instantly. “You found her?”
He shakes his head, lips pressed together. “But if she had been killed, we would have known. The kidnapper would have sent her dead body.”
“Why would—“ I don’t get to finish my sentence as a loud voice erupts from the front yard of our house.
We both jump up and run outside. My steps freeze when I see a coffin emerging from a white capsule.
Zoan’s words echo in my mind. “The kidnapper would have sent her dead body.”
Mama comes up from behind me, stopping beside me as she takes in the sight. Daddy holds her trembling shoulders.
I don’t even know how much time has passed when I see Uncle, Aunt, and Leo arrive. Aunt collapses to the ground when she sees the coffin, her eyes wide and lifeless. Uncle kneels beside her, holding her up, his own eyes blood-red. Behind them, Ma and Pa are approaching.
I hold the pillar near me to steady myself.
This can’t be happening. He hasn’t killed her.
My sister cannot die. My breath locks in my chest, refusing to move.
I take long, deep breaths to pull myself out of panic, but it’s not working.
The last thing I saw was Leo opening the coffin before darkness swallowed me.
I open my eyes, feeling raindrops on me. I sit up from the couch where I’ve been lying and look at Zoan in front of me.
I grab the hand that’s holding the glass. “What was inside that coffin?” My voice comes out hollow, panicked, trembling with fear.
“Wen. But don’t worry, she is fine.”
I press my hand to my chest, telling myself she’s fine. But it’s impossible to truly believe it until I see her.
“Where is she?”
“She’s at your uncle’s house, going through a checkup,” Daddy speaks from beside me, patting my head reassuringly. He rises from the couch and takes my hand. “Let’s go there. Can you walk?”
I nod, holding his hand tightly as we move. Zoan follows close behind.
Uncle, Aunt, Leo, Ma, Pa, and Mama are all standing outside her room.
The door opens, and a doctor comes out, carrying her medical bag.
“She must have eaten nuts by mistake. She’s currently unconscious due to the effects of her medication.
There are no internal or external physical injuries.
” She glances back at Wen, lying peacefully on the bed.
“She should regain consciousness within a few hours.”
Wen is allergic to nuts. Whenever she consumes even a small amount by mistake, she starts struggling to breathe. The anti-allergic medication given in those situations puts her into a deep sleep for eight to nine hours, depending on the dose.
She comes back to consciousness after three hours.
Everyone bombards her with questions, first emotional statements from family, then gentle asks about what she wants to eat and how she’s feeling.
After that, the men all turn to questions about her kidnapper, but she has no useful information.
She doesn’t know his name or where he lives.
She tells everyone he didn’t hurt her, he only made her do household chores.
Apparently this man has a bizarre hobby of making rich men’s daughters his maids.
Everyone is slightly surprised by that weird hobby, except me, because it’s the plot of a book we’d read.
She glances at me while telling the story, making sure I keep my mouth shut.
After two hours, I finally get some alone time with her. I take her outside under the pretense of a walk. When we reach the edge of the hill, where I’m sure there are no listening devices, I ask her in a low voice, “Why did he kidnap you?”
She looks around, then answers. “Uncle killed his father. Then his relatives, who were literal snakes, treated his mother terribly. She broke under their torture and died from complications of severe trauma. He wanted to take revenge on uncle by giving you the same torture.”
My eyes widen. “Did he do that to you?”
“He tried,” she says, but grins. “I’m a tough cookie, you know.”
“Why didn’t you tell everyone this?”
She stares out at the ocean, lost in thought for a few minutes, then sighs. “I don’t want them to find him.”
I watch her for a long minute. She looks the same, yet entirely different. “Don’t tell me you fall for your kidnapper.”
She chuckles but doesn’t deny it.
“Fucking hell. Is it Stockholm syndrome?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know.” She looks at me. “But it doesn’t matter. The feeling is not mutual.” There’s a clear layer of hurt in her eyes.
I hug her shoulder. “You could break our pact. You could fall for someone else once you forget him.”
She chuckles, but it’s more filled with heartache than humor.
“How can you even fall for that weirdo who sends someone back home in a coffin with a rose? What happened to your claim of falling for a man whose brain actually stays in his head?” I try to lighten her mood.
“Rose?” She looks at me, puzzled.
I nod. “Mama told me there was a red rose in your hands.”
“Where is it?” she frowns.
“I don’t know.”
“Help me find it.” She turns and walks back toward the mansion. I follow her.
I sigh. She’s fallen far too deeply for that smirking man for her own good. Falling in love with a man your family is hunting is worse than falling for your adopted brother.