Chapter 87: Chapter-87. (She Is Alive).
Sometimes, the thought crept in, like what if Elena really did leave with him? What if she chose him, despite everything?
But each time that thought came, I crushed it. No, that was not like her at all. That was not the woman I had known all my life.
And yet... doubts still poisoned my heart.
Three months of silence had a way of breaking even the strongest belief.
One night, while walking through the halls, I overheard Grace whispering to Nicole.
"Albert and Dave are wasting their time. She’s gone. And honestly, good riddance. The family is safer without her."
Safer.
The word burned in my ears.
What did they mean by safer? What did they know that I didn’t?
I kept that thought buried, but it never left me.
Four Days Later.
I stood in the lobby as I kept talking on my phone, my voice clipped as I spoke with the director of the film in which I was currently involved.
"I cannot keep up with the schedule," I told him flatly. "The doctors want me to rest for a few more months. I’ll pull out of the project."
This was the only excuse I could use at this time, as I did have to put my complete focus into investigating the case.
There was silence on the other end before he sighed, which felt like he was relieved, "Dave, you have no idea how much you just saved me. The producers were already breathing down my neck."
He again took a deep breath before continuing, "They wanted me to pay the damages since you were not coming. They didn’t have the guts to call you out, but they were forcing me to take the fall."
I closed my eyes briefly, massaging the bridge of my nose. "I will handle the damages. You won’t suffer because of me. I will pay the penalty in full."
His gratitude spilled out in rushed words, but I barely heard it. My mind was elsewhere.
When the call finally ended, I slipped the phone into my pocket and exhaled deeply that’s when I felt it.
A small tug at my pant leg.
For a moment, I got startled, but then I glanced down and saw a pair of wide brown eyes staring up at me.
A little girl, her soft blonde curls tied into uneven pigtails, her tiny hands still clutching the hem of my trousers.
Lily. She was Nicole’s daughter.
She could not have been more than six years old, yet she had the same sharpness in her gaze as her father.
The only difference between her and his egoistic father was that she had some innocence, while her father seemed to have left all the morals.
Not that I was judging him. I was not better either, but seeing this little kid stirred something unknown in me.
"What is it, Lily?" I crouched slightly so I could meet her at eye level.
She tilted her head, her lips pressing together before she whispered, "Why are you sad?"
The question caught me off guard. For a moment, I didn’t know what to say.
Children had a way of cutting straight through the masks adults wore. They did not care about politeness or appearances; they just said what they saw.
I forced a small smile. "I’m not sad, Lily. Just tired." I definitely did not want to put pressure on her by revealing anything, but then she frowned.
As if she was not convinced by my answer.
Her little fingers tightened around my sleeve. "Do you know where that sweet lady who checked my father’s injuries is?"
My breath caught in the midst of listening to her words. "That lady." The words whispered out of me.
Elena.
Of course, Nicole would talk carelessly in front of her child, assuming Lily would not understand, but children always understood more than we gave them credit for.
I swallowed hard, my voice low. "Why do you want to know?"
She blinked up at me, her small face scrunching as if I was some stupid, "I told you that she helped when Papa hurt."
Her words hit me harder than I expected.
An imaginary scene of Elena, kneeling down with that same gentle smile, brushing her hair back, and saying something softly to calm her down... It wasn’t difficult to imagine.
Elena had always been that way, gentle, even when she herself was hurting.
"She promised me to play with me," Lily added, her voice dropping to a whisper. "But then... she did not come back."
Her wide eyes searched my face, as if I had all the answers she wanted.
My throat tightened, but I managed a soft, careful, "Sometimes... people have to go away for a while. But that does not mean they forget you."
Lily’s lower lip trembled as though she wanted to believe me, but something else lingered on her mind. She leaned closer, her voice conspiratorial. "But Aunt Grace says she will not come. She says it’s better this way."
Every muscle in my body stiffened.
Grace?
That word, ’better’ echoes again. Safer, better, and other similar words were some that cut deeper the more I heard them.
I forced myself to keep my tone light, for Lily’s sake. "And why does your aunt say that?"
She hesitated, glancing around nervously, then whispered, "She says that lady was trouble. That she made you and Grandpa fight. That’s why everyone is sad."
My breath caught, though I tried not to show it. So they both wasn’t just poisoning their mind... they were planting those thoughts in this child too.
I reached out, brushing a stray curl from Lily’s forehead. "Do you think she was also a trouble?"
Her tiny brows furrowed, and she shook her head firmly. "No. She was nice. She made me laugh once. Also, she very pretty."
A small smile tugged at the corner of my lips despite the storm raging inside me.
Out of the mouth of her came the truth adults tried so hard to bury, but before I could say anything more, Lily bit her lip, then slipped her tiny hand into her pocket.
She pulled out a crumpled piece of paper and pressed it into my palm.
"Don’t tell Aunt Grace," she whispered quickly, almost scared. "I found this in her drawer."
My fingers tightened around the fragile note. Slowly, I unfolded it. The paper was worn, the ink faint, but the words stabbed into me like knives.
They seemed like some coordinates to a specific place, and underneath, there it was written.
"She is alive."