Ethan stared at him, paralyzed by shock.
Jake looked right through Ethan, his expression unreadable. "So... soon... It's... not you?" he muttered under his breath, a strange edge to his voice.
Before Ethan could process the words, Jake's gaze flicked down to the pavement.
Jake bent down and scooped up a ring of keys that had just slipped from Ethan's pocket.
"This fell," Jake said smoothly, holding them up.
My house keys, Ethan thought, his heart hammering against his ribs.
Jake raised the keys to eye level, inspecting them closely under the dim amber glow of the streetlight.
Sensing an opening, Ethan moved in a microsecond, lunging forward to snatch them back. But Jake moving his hand just an inch, effortlessly dodging the grab.
He's too fast, Ethan realized, his face tightening in surprise.
Jake leaned in closer, his face inches from Ethan's. The sheer pressure of his presence forced Ethan a step back until his shoulder blades hit the cold brick wall of the alley.
"Hmm. I had a feeling you felt familiar," Jake said, his tone shifting into something almost casual. "Ethan?"
So he didn't recognize me at first, Ethan thought, trying to steady his breathing. "Just out for a walk. What about you?"
"Now it all makes sense," Jake murmured, ignoring the question. He stared into the middle distance. "I thought... it was too soon..."
"What are you talking about?" Ethan demanded.
Jake finally handed the keys back, a faint, smirk playing on his lips. "You've been making quite the progress—taking down two branches already? You're doing great."
Ethan's eyes narrowed. "If you know so much, then tell me everything."
"Well, judging by your current performance, you might actually take down the Three Pillars," Jake said, completely ignoring Ethan's demand. He pulled a small slip of paper from his pocket and pressed it into Ethan's hand. "You can contact me, I'll will reply when I have time. Then, we'll talk."
Ethan looked down at the digits, stunned. "You're just going to leave?"
"I feel like someone's tracking me," Jake whispered, his eyes darting toward the edge of the alley. "And don't tell a soul that you ran into me."
Without waiting for a reply, Jake walked back into the shadows of the street. Ethan stood there completely dumbfounded. What the hell just happened?
Ethan rushed back home, the cryptic encounter heavy on his mind. The moment he unlocked the front door and stepped into the dark foyer, his mother's bedroom door clicked open. Selena stepped out into the hallway.
"Ethan, you're back," she said softly, her voice strained. "I got your text earlier."
Ethan nodded, studying her face. "Mom, why are you still awake? It's past midnight."
"I just had some things to take care of," she replied quickly, offering a tight, unconvincing smile.
"Is something wrong?" Ethan pressed, stepping closer.
Selena shook her head, the smile freezing on her face. "No, everything is perfect. Don't worry."
"Alright... I'm going to head to my room, then."
As Ethan turned away and closed his bedroom door, Selena's smile vanished completely.
She stared at the wood panels, a chilling thought racing through her mind. Maybe their handwritings are identical. Yeah... after all...
She retreated to her bedroom, locking the door silently behind her. Walking over to her wardrobe, she reached into the very bottom, beneath layers of winter clothes, and pulled out a small, red shirt.
Selena cradled the fabric, staring blankly ahead. Hours bled into one another, but she didn't move an inch. She remained frozen in the exact same spot until the first pale rays of the morning sun broke through the window. Only then, realizing the night had passed, did she numbly crawl into bed and drift into a heavy, restless sleep.
In her dreams, Selena's mind violently dragged her back to the day everything shattered—the day she discovered the hidden letters in Ethan's cupboard.
She remembered, that she had packed the encrypted letters back into their bundle, tying the string precisely as she had found it, ensuring it sat in the deep, shadowed corner of the wardrobe exactly as before. Her face back then had been a hollow mask.
Abandoning her chores, she had retreated to her room, thrown on a dark, heavy coat, and wrapped a low-profile scarf tightly around her face to completely conceal her identity. She had turned toward the front door, ready to slip out into the freezing night air, when a sharp voice shattered the silence of the hallway.
"Are you heading somewhere, Mother?" Daisy had called out from the dark.
Selena froze, turning her head with agonizing slowness. Her eyes were entirely vacant—a distant, haunted look that Daisy had never seen her wear in her entire life.
Daisy's breath hitched in her throat. Without a single word of explanation, Selena gave a rigid nod, stepped out into the dark, and clicked the door locked behind her.
What on earth...? Daisy thought, her heart hammering violently against her ribs as she stared at the locked door. I've never seen her look like that. Something is horribly wrong. I have to follow her.
Moving on pure instinct, Daisy grabbed a dark jacket, slipped out of the house, and began tracking her mother through the winding, silent suburban streets, keeping a careful distance in the shadows.
The path grew progressively darker and more isolated until the rusted iron gates of the municipal cemetery loomed ahead under the pale moonlight. Daisy ducked behind a massive stone pillar, her eyes widening in utter disbelief.
Why is Mom in a graveyard? At this hour?
From the safety of the shadows, she watched Selena navigate the weathered rows of headstones, her silhouette cutting through the fog until she stopped at an ancient, crumbling grave at the very back of the plot.
Whose grave is that? Daisy racked her brain, her confusion turning into absolute terror.
She always told us she had no living relatives left... that her parents died when she was young. Is it an old friend? What could have driven her out here so suddenly?
Daisy leaned forward, straining to see through the gloom. A tight knot twisted in her chest. Selena sat in front of a grave, in the empty graveyard.
Daisy's eyes filled with tears—not just of sorrow, but of genuine horror. The weight of her mother's hidden agony was suffocating.
After what felt like an eternity, Selena finally wiped her face with a handkerchief, forced herself to her feet, and turned back toward the path. Anticipating the movement, Daisy bolted, sprinting through the shortcuts and shadows back toward the house to ensure she wouldn't be caught.
In the present.
Lying in her own bed, Daisy stared blankly at her bedroom ceiling. Sunlight drifted in, through the narrow space between the curtains.
I will check that grave myself Daisy thought, her fists clenching under the sheets. What was it that mother had to leave this late?