After Chris and Edward escaped the police, Chris wasted no time. He drove Edward through the city streets until they reached an abandoned factory on the outskirts; an old building shrouded in layers of rust and silence.
They headed straight for the freight elevator. Chris pressed the down button, and the elevator shuddered slowly as it descended into unknown depths. When it stopped, the doors opened to reveal a place that wasn't supposed to exist. It wasn't just a basement… it was a secret fortress. Dim lights, carefully arranged equipment, and a table in the center holding an old device—everything showed that Chris had always been prepared for nights like this.
The two sat in silence, catching their breath. Chris went to a small corner, made some instant coffee, and returned to hand a cup to Edward. Edward took a sip, then looked at him sharply and said:
"Edward… what the hell did you do for all of this to happen?"
Edward sighed, staring at the cup in his hands as if the answer was heavier than he could bear. "I'll tell you everything…" he said in a low voice, "but… we have to go back to the beginning. To the day we parted ways."
He paused for a moment, then began: "When I went to London… after my mother died. And when my father didn't attend her funeral… I decided to start a new life. I sold the farm I lived on and moved to the city. I bought a small apartment… and a restaurant to make a living."
He fell silent for a bit, a faint smile barely appearing. "One day… a customer walked in." He raised his eyes slightly. "I liked her from the first moment."
Chris interrupted him coldly, "What does this have to do with the people chasing you?"
Edward replied calmly, "Be patient… and you'll understand."
Then he continued: "Her name was Julia. She worked at an orphanage." He paused, a faint warmth appearing in his voice. "The first time I saw her, she was arguing with the baker across the street… not for herself—for the children. He had raised the price, and she refused to leave until he put it back. I remember thinking… who does that? When she saw me looking at her, she said, 'What are you staring at, you idiot?' I felt embarrassed and went to open my pastry shop. Then she came to me and said, 'I'm sorry, I didn't mean to insult you. I just hate people staring at me in general. Can we start over?' She held out her hand, I forgave her, and at that moment, my heart started racing. I fell in love with her right then."
He ran his thumb along the rim of the cup. "She came back the next day… and the day after. Sometimes I'd order food I didn't really want, just to hear her talk about the children. She knew every one of them… who hated milk, and who couldn't sleep without a story."
He looked up, as if seeing the memories before him. "One day… it was raining heavily. I was closing the restaurant when I saw her trying to shield two children under her coat. I brought them inside… and after closing, we made a simple meal together." He smiled sadly. "She laughed when I burnt the bread… and said a chef shouldn't be left alone with fire. And I wasn't even a chef."
His voice grew softer. "When the rain stopped, she left with them… then came back just a minute later to say thank you. She didn't have to… but she did." He looked down. "After that… everything became easier. We would close the place together and walk without a destination. Sometimes we didn't speak… she would suddenly hold my hand." He stopped. "Once I asked her why she chose the orphanage… she said, 'Because no one chooses them first.'"
He exhaled slowly. "That's when I knew I could never leave her." He paused, then said quietly, "And when we decided to adopt… it wasn't to fill a void. It was… because she was the one."
The smile gradually faded. "We decided to get married… and I thought that was the beginning of everything beautiful." He stopped… then said in a heavier voice, "But happiness… it doesn't last."
He lowered his gaze, as if the words had become too heavy to speak easily. "We discovered she couldn't have children."
A sudden silence fell, but it wasn't an ordinary silence… it was weighted with grief, as if the air itself had become scarce in the room. Edward raised the cup slowly but didn't drink. He stared at the surface of the coffee as if seeing the reflection of an entire life beginning to unravel.
"At first… we tried to cope." His voice became fainter. "But the house began to feel empty in a painful way. The laughter that used to fill the place… it slowly disappeared. So we decided to fill that void another way… with the help of a child."
He raised his eyes slightly. "We went to the orphanage together… for the first time not as visitors, but as people looking for a family." He paused for a moment, the scene playing out before him. "There were many children… running around us, laughing, asking simple questions that make you forget your worries."
Then his voice softened. "But she… was standing in a corner, holding a small notebook, writing something."
"I asked about her name… she said: Yara."
Edward swallowed hard. "She was quiet… she didn't talk much, but there was something different in her eyes." He raised his head slowly. "From the first moment… Julia became attached to her. Because Yara reminded her of her own past, when she was an orphan in that same home after losing her parents in the First World War; she had no friends, she was lonely just like her."
There was a short silence. "We decided to adopt her. We were preparing the paperwork… visiting the home almost every day. After spending time with the children as usual, we would sit with her and talk to her. Yara started calling us 'Mama' and 'Papa' even before the procedures were finished."
He smiled sadly. "It was the first time real laughter returned to the house."
Then the smile vanished abruptly. "But… we weren't the only ones watching her." His tone changed. "There was a man… named Julian Mortimer."
His features hardened. "He used to come to the home sometimes, but not like any other donor. He would stand watching the children as if he were choosing an object, not a human being." He gripped the cup tightly. "When he found out we had chosen Yara… his smile vanished."
"After that… everything changed quickly."
A long silence followed, then he said in a heavier voice, "One day… we went back to the home, and she was gone." He stopped suddenly. "No explanation… no trace… just a void."
His hand trembled slightly. "We reported it immediately… we turned the world upside down looking for her." He looked at Chris. "But they said: there is no evidence. Not even a camera, not a single witness to prove anything." He laughed bitterly again. "As if she had evaporated from the world itself."
He lowered his voice. "After a while… one of their men came to us. He offered me money… a huge sum. And told me to close the case… and to forget there was ever a girl named Yara."
He shook his head slowly. "In that moment… I realized something was wrong, something beyond just a kidnapping."
"I refused."
His voice weakened. "And after that… there was no turning back. Julia broke… but she didn't give up. She would sit at night looking at Yara's pictures, saying she was still alive. And she wrote in her notebook… everything she remembered about her."
Edward swallowed hard. "And after that… a while later… she died."
He stopped suddenly, as if the name alone had sucked the air out of the room. "After her death… I was left alone. And I couldn't live like that. I started searching myself. Every name, every file, every person connected to the Mortimer family… I dug into everything."
"Until I reached a journalist… who writes about the disappearance of children. And there was something strange… he wasn't the only one searching. There were other families… who had lost their children the same way."
His voice dropped even lower. "Disappearances… without any trace. As if something was pulling them out of the world and hiding them."
He paused for a long moment, then said: "And from there… I realized that all roads lead to the same place."
He looked at Chris. "One of the abandoned mines… belonging to the Mortimer family."