Chapter 19 - Unfinished Business
1061 Words
Willowbrook
The following night, Willowbrook was unusually quiet.
The small cream-colored house stood beneath the pale glow of the moon, its green shutters casting faint shadows across the walls.
Inside, only one lamp remained lit.
Elsie's grandmother sat alone at the wooden dining table.
She wasn't reading.
She wasn't knitting.
She simply sat there.
In her trembling hands rested a small pendant.
The pendant was old.
Its surface had lost some of its original shine, but she held it with the familiarity of someone who had carried its memory for years.
Her eyes remained fixed upon it.
Then, slowly—
two tears slipped from the corners of her eyes.
Her lips trembled.
“I am sorry.”
The words were barely more than a whisper.
She lowered her gaze.
For a moment, the house remained completely silent.
Then—
Ding-dong.
The doorbell broke through the silence.
Grandmother immediately looked toward the door.
Her expression changed.
She quickly wiped her tears.
The pendant disappeared into her palm.
She opened the small wooden box beside her and placed it inside before closing the lid.
Another knock followed.
“Coming.”
She stood and walked toward the door.
When she opened it, Ethan Bennett stood outside.
He smiled warmly.
“Good evening, Grandma.”
She gave him a small smile.
“Ethan. What brings you here?”
“I was nearby, so I thought I'd check on you.”
She stepped aside.
“Come in.”
Ethan entered.
“You should be resting.”
“I am resting.”
“You're standing.”
She gave him a mildly disapproving look.
“Then I suppose I'll sit.”
Ethan laughed.
“That's better.”
She returned to the table.
Ethan pulled out a chair.
“How have you been?”
“Fine.”
“Really?”
She nodded.
“Really.”
“You're not feeling unwell?”
“No.”
“Need anything?”
“No.”
Ethan smiled.
“You always say no.”
“Because I usually don't need anything.”
“That's what everyone says before they need something.”
She smiled faintly.
“You worry too much.”
“Someone has to.”
A comfortable silence followed.
Ethan glanced around the room.
Everything appeared normal.
The familiar furniture.
The quiet walls.
The small wooden box resting on the table.
His eyes briefly settled on it.
Grandmother noticed.
She quietly moved her hand over the box.
Ethan looked back at her.
“Elsie called?”
Her expression softened.
“Yes.”
“How is she?”
“She says she's doing well.”
“Good.”
He smiled.
“She seems to be settling into Newhaven.”
“She is.”
Another pause.
Ethan leaned back.
“If you need anything, just call me.”
“I know.”
He stood.
“I'll let you rest.”
Grandmother nodded.
“Thank you, Ethan.”
He walked toward the door.
Before leaving, he turned back.
“Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.”
The door closed.
Grandmother remained standing for several seconds.
Then her eyes returned to the wooden box.
Her expression slowly changed.
The warmth disappeared.
She whispered nothing this time.
Only her fingers rested against the lid.
Outside, Ethan walked down the quiet street.
Behind him, the little house remained illuminated by a single lamp.
And inside that house—
a secret that had remained locked inside a wooden box.
Avernia
Far beyond the borders of Veylora, night had settled over the remote estate hidden between dense forests and towering mountains.
The estate remained isolated from the outside world.
No neighboring houses.
No streetlights.
No traffic.
Only armed guards moved quietly along the perimeter.
Inside, a long corridor stretched beneath dim golden lights.
A subordinate walked through it carrying a thick black folder.
His footsteps stopped before a large wooden door.
Knock.
“Enter.”
The subordinate opened the door.
The room beyond was vast and dark.
A few lamps illuminated a large desk.
Behind it sat the man who had ordered the investigation.
His face remained partially hidden in the shadows.
The subordinate approached.
“I have the results.”
The man held out his hand.
The folder was placed before him.
He opened it.
Page after page.
Elsie Ashford.
Academic qualifications.
School records.
University achievements.
Employment information.
A photograph.
Then another.
His eyes moved across the information without expression.
Until they stopped.
Age: 22.
His gaze remained there.
He turned the page.
Parents: No available information.
His fingers tightened slightly against the paper.
He continued reading.
Elsie had been brought to Willowbrook by her grandmother when she was ten years old.
There were no reliable records concerning her parents.
No one in Willowbrook had seen them.
No one knew where they had gone.
And her grandmother had never spoken about their background.
The man's eyes narrowed.
He turned another page.
A photograph of Elsie's grandmother stared back at him.
An older woman standing outside the small house in Willowbrook.
The man's expression changed.
Only slightly.
But the subordinate noticed.
The room suddenly became colder.
The man closed the file.
For several seconds, he said nothing.
Then—
Crash!
The ashtray beside his hand flew across the room and shattered against the wall.
The subordinate immediately stiffened.
The man's voice exploded through the silence.
“How did such a mistake happen?”
His fist remained clenched.
His eyes were dark with fury.
“And how did she escape from them for twelve years?”
Silence.
The subordinate lowered his head.
He had no answer.
Several seconds passed.
The man's breathing gradually steadied.
His anger did not disappear.
It simply became colder.
He reached for his phone.
His fingers moved across the screen, entering a string of numbers from memory.
The call connected.
A voice answered from the other end.
The man leaned back in his chair.
His voice was now completely controlled.
“Rook.”
A pause.
“You have unfinished business to finish.”
His eyes moved toward the photograph of Elsie's grandmother.
“Make sure there are no slip-ups this time.”
The call ended.
The room fell silent again.
The subordinate remained motionless.
The man slowly closed the folder.
Twelve years.
Twelve years of silence.
Twelve years of believing something had remained buried.
But now—
someone had finally found the trail.
And the first thread had been pulled.
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