Night pressed down over the capital, heavy and suffocating.
Inside a modest two-storey villa, the lights still blazed. The house should have been quiet, yet faint sobs slipped through the corridors, lingering like something that refused to settle.
In the living room, the air was thick with grief. Faces were pale, shaken—drawn tight with fear and exhaustion.
Everyone felt it.
Everyone except Riley Cole.
The girl who had just been brought back from overseas stood barefoot on the cold floor, a white stuffed bunny clutched to her chest. Her wide eyes blinked slowly, almost innocently, as she looked at the tearful figures around her.
"Don't cry… don't cry," she murmured, her voice soft and oddly detached. "Riley will make it better."
The moment the words left her lips, a fine spray of saliva landed squarely on Thomas Cole's face.
"Get away from me!" he snapped, recoiling as he wiped his cheek in disgust. "If you've got nothing better to do, go back to your room. Stop standing here and making a nuisance of yourself."
Riley flinched. Her shoulders drew in slightly as she hugged the toy tighter, as though seeking comfort from it. But a second later, she leaned forward again, peering curiously at the two people seated on the sofa.
Her stepmother, Elaine Cole.
Her stepsister, Felicia Cole.
Tears clung stubbornly to their lashes, their expressions tight with distress. The sight of Riley—blank, unaffected, almost out of place—only stoked the anger simmering beneath their grief. They were just about to speak—
When a panicked voice shattered the moment.
"Mr Cole! Mrs Cole! This is bad—the Yates family is here!"
"What?!"
The room froze.
Elaine reacted first. She seized Felicia's hand and pulled her towards a nearby bedroom, her movements urgent and decisive. "Felicia, no matter what happens, don't come out. Your father and I will handle this."
Thomas dragged a hand through his hair, tension pulling his voice tight. "Why are they here so soon?"
By the time Elaine had just managed to hide Felicia, the Yates family's butler, Mr Yeardley had already stepped inside.
He did not knock.
He did not wait.
He entered as though the house already belonged to him.
Thomas hurried forward, forcing a strained, polite smile.
Mr Yeardley's gaze swept across the room with quiet authority. When his eyes paused briefly on Riley, his brow creased—just for a second.
Then his expression smoothed.
"Regarding Miss Cole causing the death of a relative of the Yates family," he said coolly, his tone measured and unyielding, "she should, by all rights, be imprisoned."
Thomas's heart sank.
"However," Mr Yeardley continued, "my master has decided not to pursue the matter. A letter of forgiveness has already been arranged."
Relief began to rise—
"But," Mr. Yeardley added, his voice sharpening slightly, "to atone for her actions, Miss Cole will marry into the Yates family and serve the second young master of the Yates family."
Silence fell, heavy and absolute.
"I will return in three days to take her."
"W-What?" Thomas's voice trembled, disbelief etched across his face.
Mr Yeardley offered no explanation. His duty done, he turned and left without another word.
The moment he was gone, the bedroom door flew open.
"I won't do it!" Felicia cried, her voice breaking as she rushed out. "I'm not marrying him! Everyone in the capital knows the Yates family's second young master is sickly—a cripple who won't live long. Marrying him is no different from becoming a widow! I won't do it. I'd rather die!"
Thomas's hands curled into fists. "And what choice do you have? If you don't marry him, you'll go to prison. Didn't you hear what he said?"
Felicia shook her head frantically, her entire body rejecting the reality as she collapsed into Elaine's arms, sobbing uncontrollably.
Then, suddenly, something shifted.
"Wait… Riley is still here," Felicia said, her eyes lighting with desperate hope. "Let that idiot go instead. A fool and a cripple—perfect match. I'm not going. I won't marry him, no matter what!"
Her words jolted Elaine out of her panic.
"That's right," Elaine agreed quickly, her voice softening as she held her daughter close. "Our Felicia is far too precious. How could you push her into something like that?" She paused, then glanced at Thomas. "Riley is already… like this. If she marries into the Yates family, at least she'll be taken care of."
A brief hesitation.
Then, quietly, "Why not let her go instead?"
Off to the side, Riley hugged her stuffed bunny and watched everything unfold.
When her name was spoken, something flickered in her eyes.
Sharp.
Calculating.
So that's how it is.
The moment passed. The light in Riley's gaze dulled again, returning to that vacant innocence.
Only the faint curve of her lips betrayed her.
She said nothing.
She simply watched.