The sweet scent of osmanthus drifted gently through the courtyard as moonlight shimmered across the coffee in my cup.
"Who knows?" I let out a faint laugh, my tone calm and indifferent. "Maybe they're still somewhere out there dreaming about coming back in three years to reclaim their wealth and live like kings again."
Helen sighed softly and lowered her gaze back to the embroidery stretched across her frame. The red silk thread glimmered beneath the warm lamplight.
"If they really come back," she murmured, "I doubt they'll even recognize their old life anymore."
I didn't answer. Deep down, I had always known Derek and Marcus would never give up so easily. I just hadn't expected them to show up this soon, or in such miserable condition.
Three months later, early one morning in Heritag
