"I'm heading out for now, hon," Justine said as he kissed his partner goodbye.
"Okay. Come back soon, alright?" she replied with a soft smile.
"Yeah, I won't be long." He waved and stepped out of the mansion, keys already in hand. His client had called—apparently, they had something important to discuss.
Justine sighed as he drove past the old warehouse, where he knew the bodies of a murdered couple were buried. There had also been recent developments in the case of his missing cousin. His client had asked to meet at his mansion.
Well, I've been idle too long. Time to move, he thought.
When he arrived, the housekeeper immediately let him in. He went straight to the private room where Lawrence was waiting.
"What's going on?" Justine asked directly, noticing the tension in the air.
Lawrence motioned to a seat. "Sit down, Drake."
Justine obliged, his brows furrowed. Lawrence leaned back in his chair, rubbing his forehead.
"Sorry, today was overwhelming. I still can't process everything," Lawrence admitted.
"So that's why you canceled on me earlier," Justine said, arms crossed.
"Yeah. Sorry again. Something urgent came up," Lawrence sighed, clearly still shaken.
Justine didn't press further. He was here to listen now.
"Drake, have you found any leads about the missing child?" Lawrence asked, breaking the silence.
The question caught Justine off guard. "No. Still nothing. The kid's been missing for over two decades."
Lawrence reached into a folder and pulled out several old documents. "Here. Maybe this will help."
Justine took them and raised an eyebrow. The papers were yellowed and fragile with age.
"Where did you get these?" he asked.
"This is what I was busy retrieving earlier today," Lawrence answered.
Justine silently studied the materials. His brow creased as he came across something intriguing—a printed photo of a bracelet.
"What's this?" he asked, lifting the image.
"That bracelet is your guide. Use it to trace what you're looking for," Lawrence replied.
"How is this supposed to help?"
"I was going to hand you the actual bracelet, but... the person who found it needs it for now."
Justine didn't push further.
"And sorry, Drake. I know I'm asking a lot."
"You always pay well. That's enough for me." He smirked.
Lawrence chuckled, but his tone quickly turned serious. "I need you to keep an eye on their mansion."
"You mean the Rosario estate?" Justine asked.
Lawrence nodded grimly. "Especially Angely Atienza's sister. Something's off."
Justine's expression darkened.
"Did you know that the abandoned lot where the couple was buried has now been turned into a mansion?"
Justine nodded. "I've seen it. But why?"
"That's where my cousin Leah was buried," Lawrence revealed.
Justine's breath caught. "Wait—what? Are you sure?"
Lawrence leaned forward. "The Rosario family is involved. Especially Felicia Rosario."
He hesitated. "I know this will sound crazy, but... this case isn't entirely explainable. There's something beyond reason tied to all of this."
Justine didn't laugh. Instead, he nodded solemnly.
"I'll start observing. You really think that woman—Angely's sister—is involved?"
"Yes," Lawrence replied without hesitation.
Justine stood up. "You need to rest. Let me handle it."
Lawrence gave a tired smile. "Thanks."
Justine left the room, documents secured in his bag. As he walked back to his car, his mind raced.
How did the Rosario family inherit everything? All the land titles, bank accounts—everything was transferred after Leah's death.
Lawrence's words echoed in his mind:
This case involves something we can't explain.
The sun was setting. Justine sighed. He was on his way to the cemetery—it was the anniversary of his father's death.
He brought a candle with him and knelt at the graves of his father, uncle, and aunt. Though their bodies were laid to rest properly, their killers had never been caught.
"I hope you can help me find your daughter," he whispered to his uncle's grave.
His eyes scanned the tombstones.
Ellena. The name suddenly echoed in his mind.
Their daughter… that was her name.
Then he remembered the inscription on the bracelet photo: S.E.
"Santiago Ellena?" he muttered, confused. "But she should've been a Gonzalez, not Santiago."
He shook his head, frustrated. The pieces were there, but they weren't fitting together—yet.
As darkness fell over San Mateo, the streets grew quieter. He passed by teenagers walking home, and soon he was back at the mansion he had inherited from his late brother.
He parked and stared up at the structure.
Hard to believe Leah was buried here…
He honked the horn and was quickly let inside. Entering the house, he quietly slipped into his room to hide the documents.
When he emerged, Sheila was waiting for him—dressed to entice.
Without a word, she kissed him passionately, her arms sliding around his neck. He smiled faintly, but his mind was still racing.
Behind the smile, Justine knew— This case was far from over. And the truth was buried deeper than any grave.