Since 1998

Chapter 5

"Six years," Allison mumbled. ...and now I'm breathing the same air as him."

"So this is what an American airport smells like."

"Well, welcome to my hometown, Anna!"

While the girls were navigating the noise of the airport, Devin’s world had gone completely quiet.

Devin had been waiting for a letter for over two weeks, and the lack of word from Spain was draining the life out of him. He collapsed onto the couch and stared at the ceiling, his mind in a loop of anxiety.

I hate this day. She hasn't written since I sent that photo. Did it scare her off?

Ben appeared from the hallway, noticing his nephew's mood. He sat across from Devin on the living room couch.

"What's the matter? You seem down."

"Uncle," Devin asked suddenly, "why are you still single?"

Ben chuckled, shaking his head. "Well, that's a long story. But to make it short... call me the man who couldn't move forward."

Devin nodded, as if he understood the weight of those words. "So you've been in love with someone before? But—"

"Yes." Ben's expression grew distant. "We didn't end up together. Her parents didn't think I was good enough. I was young, still dependent on my own family, not capable of providing for her. But love doesn't care about age or circumstances." He paused, his voice growing quieter. "No matter how hard we fought for it, one day she just... disappeared from my life."

Devin waited, sensing there was more.

"Years later, I found out she had a daughter," Ben continued, his eyes fixed on something far away. "I found out she was happy, that she had moved on."

"That's..." Devin struggled for words. "That sounds tragic. No wonder you haven't moved on yet."

"What choice do I have?" Ben replied softly.

"Right," Devin said quietly.

Ben didn't look at Devin. He looked through him, back to a version of South Carolina that no longer existed.

"I know this reminds you of Allison, Devin. But listen to me—if you really love her, you have to fight for her. Promise me you won't make the same mistake. I don't want to see you in twenty years, grieving for someone alive and living without you."

Devin went speechless. His gaze was fixed on nothing, but his mind couldn't stop thinking about Allison. She hasn't written back yet.

The three-vehicle convoy pulled up to the Ainsley mansion as the afternoon sun began its descent.

The mansion rose from the manicured lawns like something from a Gothic novel—all white columns and sprawling verandas, the kind of place that whispered old money.

Allison stepped out last, her black suitcase in hand, feeling the weight of six years settle onto her shoulders as she looked at the house that had both sheltered and imprisoned her.

The house felt different—quieter than before. Allison immediately noticed that Maria's absence had made the mansion haunted.

The older woman had retired and returned to her life in Spain. Now, the house was merely a structure, empty without the woman who had kept their secrets.

Anna stepped out beside Allison, her eyes taking in the grand mansion with a mix of awe and wariness. "Welcome home," Allison murmured.

"Gosh, I feel dizzy," Anna said quietly.

Lauren squeezed Allison's shoulder. "Come, girls. Let's get you settled. You must be exhausted."

Twenty minutes later, after Lauren fussed over unpacked bags and vaguely mentioned dinner plans, Allison excused herself as effortlessly as someone who had long been granted freedom.

She found Anna in the hallway.

"So," Anna whispered, eyes gleaming with that familiar mischief. "When?"

Allison grabbed her wrist. "Come on. I want to show you something first."

The garage was cool and dimly lit. Three cars occupied the space—a sleek Mercedes (owned by Alex), a practical Lexus (belonging to Lauren), and in the corner, like a forgotten memory, an old sky-blue Volkswagen Beetle with mismatched hubcaps.

Allison's breath caught.

"Oh my God," Anna breathed. "Is that—"

"My grandmother's." Allison ran her hand along the dusty hood.

"This is perfect," Anna said immediately, understanding the strategy. "It's not the Lexus. It's not a family car. It's invisible."

"Exactly." Allison pulled down the keys, the metal warm in her palm. "No one pays attention to old cars."