Chapter 79 – The Backyard of Bones
Lily made no sound as she slipped back into bed.
Every motion was calculated, rehearsed in her mind before her body dared to follow through. The mattress dipped slightly under her weight, the springs whispering their muted protest.
She turned her face toward the ceiling, eyes wide open in the blackness, her pulse thudding against her ribs. Yet though her body stilled, her mind refused to rest.
It began connecting fragments, scattered pieces of memory she had tried so hard to ignore.
The night Albert in the backyard. How she had peeked anyway, through the curtain, and seen him under the pale light of the moon, shoveling the earth with a cold determination.
The very next night, the whispers in town—the news of another child gone, stolen away into the void of grief that had become their community's plague.
Her own baby, however, lived. Healthy, breathing, warm in her arms. While others… never survived .
The dots lined themselves, forming a picture she could no longer deny.
And yet, a sliver of doubt—a fragile, trembling one percent—remained lodged in her heart. Perhaps she was wrong. Perhaps exhaustion clouded her judgment. Perhaps Albert's digging had been innocent.
She wanted to cling to that one percent, to wrap herself around it and shield herself from the unbearable truth. But no matter how tightly she held on, her grip kept slipping.
That night she made a silent vow. She would uncover the truth. Even if it broke her.
The morning arrived gray and listless, the sky veiled in clouds that threatened rain. Albert buttoned his shirt, kissed her cheek absently, and left for work with his usual calm, measured steps. His figure grew smaller down the lane until it was swallowed by distance.
The moment the door clicked shut, Lily's chest released the breath she hadn't realized she was holding.
Her decision weighed on her, heavy as chains. There would be no turning back.
She moved quickly—before courage could desert her. Grabbing a shovel from the shed, her hands trembling against the splintered wood of the handle, she walked to the far end of the yard. The soil there still bore scars—subtle, almost healed, but visible to her eyes. She had memorized the exact spot.
The first thrust of the shovel was clumsy, shallow. The earth resisted, thick and damp. But she pressed harder, muscles straining, driving metal into dirt. Again. And again.
Minutes stretched into eternity. Sweat beaded on her forehead, trickled down her temples, and stung her eyes. Her breath grew ragged, each gasp tearing at her throat. Her hands blistered against the wooden shaft, yet she didn't stop.
Half an hour passed—her arms screamed, her back ached—but she forced herself onward. The rhythm of digging became both torture and trance.
Then—
Clink.
Her shovel struck something solid.
She froze, heart pounding. Carefully, she lowered herself to her knees, scraping the soil away with trembling fingers.
And there it was.
The Bones
Small. Fragile. Pale against the dark earth.
Bones.
Her vision blurred as tears flooded her eyes. She tried to blink them away, but the more she tried, the more they spilled—hot, unrelenting rivers.
Her entire body shook as she whispered, "No… no, God, no…"
The truth she had fought to deny now stood naked before her.
Albert—her husband, the man she had loved, the man she had trusted to protect her and their child—was a murderer. A monster who killed innocent children and buried their remains in his own backyard.
Her mind screamed in denial. Her heart shattered under the weight of betrayal. All her choices, all her faith in him, all her shared years—they collapsed like a house of cards under the faintest breath.
For a moment, grief consumed her. She wept into the dirt, her tears darkening the soil, her sobs muffled against the cold bones.
But grief gave way swiftly to fear.
Her eyes widened as terror clawed its way up her throat. If Albert discovered she had unearthed his secret, he would not hesitate. He would kill her. He would kill their baby.
Panic sharpened her movements. She seized the shovel, forcing soil back into the pit with frantic urgency. Her breath came in short, wild gasps. Every handful of dirt felt like shoving her own voice into silence.
Within minutes, the earth looked undisturbed once more, the bones hidden, the evidence buried. She stood back, chest heaving, mud caked on her dress and streaked across her arms.
But the secret did not stay buried inside her. It lived, gnawed, whispered.
That night she lay beside Albert, his arm draped casually across her waist, his warmth pressing against her. And she felt as if she were lying next to death itself.
She said nothing. She swallowed the truth whole, choking on it.
But silence demands payment.
At first, it came in dreams—children crying, muffled screams in the dark. Then the visions began to bleed into daylight. She would catch glimpses of small faces in mirrors, hear phantom giggles echoing through empty rooms, see tiny hands reaching from beneath the floorboards.
The bones haunted her, though she had buried them twice.
Her grip on reality began to fray. Each day she pasted a smile for Albert, cooked his meals, tended to the baby—but behind her eyes, madness gnawed.
She knew she couldn't carry this alone.
There was only one person left in the world she trusted.
Her brother.
The man who had raised her when their parents were gone. The man who had sacrificed his own youth to put her through school, who had taught her to read, to think, to fight for herself.
The man who had been her anchor, her shield, her only true family.
If anyone could save her now, it was him.
And so, trembling, broken, yet determined, Lily resolved: she would tell him everything.
The truth had to be spoken—before it crushed her to death.
The next day, Lily went to her brother's home.
She knocked once, twice—her breath shallow, her chest tight.
But no one answered.
The curtains swayed in the wind, the house eerily still. Her heart sank. If he wasn't here, then there was only one other place he could be.
The hotel.
Her steps quickened, almost stumbling as she hurried down the streets. The morning was alive with chatter—vendors calling out, children laughing, horses clattering down the cobblestone road—but all of it felt distant, blurred, muffled, as if she were walking through a nightmare.
---
Inside the hotel, the air was warm with the smell of roasted bread and coffee. Patrons crowded the tables, their voices weaving into a loud hum.
And there, at the far end of the hall, she saw him.
Ryu.
A man in his forties, with pale skin that seemed untouched by sunlight, black eyes sharp as polished obsidian, and streaks of gray cutting through his once-dark hair. Fine wrinkles traced the corners of his eyes, not from age alone but from years of responsibility.
The moment he spotted her, his eyes lit up. His lips curved into a smile so full of joy that it melted her heart despite the storm she carried inside.
"Lily!" he called, his voice ringing clear even above the noise. "What a surprise. Is everything all right?"
Lily forced her trembling lips into a weak smile.
"Yes… I just missed you, that's all."
Without hesitation, she ran forward and fell into his arms. Ryu embraced her tightly, warmth radiating from him. Around them, the crowd murmured, watching the siblings reunite.
Ryu chuckled softly, patting her back.
"Come. Let's talk in my office."
---
The door shut behind them with a soft click.
And in that silence, her mask shattered.
Her face twisted, her lips quivered, her breath hitched as tears spilled uncontrollably. She tried to hold them back, but the dam had broken.
Alarmed, Ryu stepped closer, cupping her face in his large, calloused hands. His voice softened, tender and urgent.
"What is it, Princess? Why are you crying?"
The name "Princess"—a word he had called her since childhood—broke her completely.
She collapsed into his chest, her sobs muffled against him. Words tumbled out between her gasps, fractured and desperate.
She told him everything.
The night Albert dug in the yard.
The shovel striking something solid.
The bones—small, fragile bones—lying hidden in the earth.
Her voice shook with terror.
"Brother, please… you must keep this a secret. If anyone finds out, Albert will kill me. And my baby… my baby will grow up cursed with his father's sins. I know it's selfish. I know it's wrong. But I just want… I just want my child to live."
Ryu's arms stiffened around her. His jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing as fury and grief stormed inside him.
He didn't answer her immediately. But she saw it—the fire in his gaze.
And in that moment, deep down, she knew her plea would not be enough.
---
That night, Albert returned home late. The air in the house felt heavier than usual, as if the walls themselves knew what was coming.
They sat down to dinner. Lily pushed food around her plate, unable to swallow. Albert ate calmly, his face unreadable.
Then—voices.
Loud. Angry. Rising outside their door.
Albert froze, his fork midway to his mouth.
The shouts grew clearer, sharper.
And then the door rattled under heavy fists.
Lily's heart lurched as she ran to the window. A mob had gathered, torches blazing, fury burning in their eyes. At their head stood Ryu.
"There he is!" Ryu's voice thundered, carrying above the crowd. He pointed straight at Albert. His hand shook, but his gaze was unflinching. "That monster who has been murdering the city's children. Check his backyard if you don't believe me!"
Chaos erupted.
The mob stormed into the yard, shovels and hands tearing at the soil. The earth was ripped open, and soon—bones surfaced. Dozens. Small, fragile, pitiful bones.
The crowd howled with rage. Men and women surged forward, their grief and anger exploding into violence. They dragged Albert out, their fists and boots raining down on him.
Albert fought, but he was drowned under the tide of their hatred. His cries of denial turned into roars of pain.
Lily stood in the doorway, paralyzed. Her body shook, her throat burned, her eyes drowned in tears. She could say nothing. Do nothing.
When one man lunged toward her, fury in his eyes, Ryu stepped in front of her.
"Touch her, and you'll answer to me!" Ryu's voice was a blade, sharp and commanding. "She is not guilty of his sins."
The crowd hesitated. Their anger seethed, but none dared challenge him.
---
Lily's hands curled into fists at her sides.
Her heart was breaking, but not in the way she had expected.
It wasn't Albert she blamed—no, Albert had already damned himself.
It was Ryu.
By exposing Albert, he had destroyed everything. Her child's future, her fragile hope, the one percent of doubt she had clung to—all gone.
For the first time in her life, she looked at her brother not with gratitude, but with anger. A sharp, stabbing anger that cut through her grief.
And yet, she said nothing.
Because deep inside, she knew the truth.
The real fault was Albert's.
To be continued…