Chapter 25
A few days later, Annabel received a video from an unfamiliar number.
In the footage, Tristan was crawling on his knees on a steep mountain path, each step landing heavily on jagged stone. His knees were torn and bloodied, leaving a trail of red along the winding road.
This was the same sanctuary where she once had a beaded bracelet blessed for him.
In the background, Steven reported in a soft voice. “Mr. Morse has been here for three days. The priest says he’s praying for…”
“Delete it,” Annabel said, closing the video. “No need to report on him anymore.”
She walked to the safe and pulled out a share transfer agreement. After signing her name, she paused for a moment before pulling out a sticky note.
Her pen hovered for a long time.
She then finally wrote, “We’re even.”
Tristan was lying in one of the sanctuary’s guest rooms when he received the file. He had been burning up, his mind in a fog.
The priest handed him a cup of warm tea and sighed. “Sir, holding on too tightly would end up hurting everyone, including yourself.”
Tristan’s hands trembled as he tore open the documents. The share transfer agreement slid out first, followed by a small note that caught the breeze through the window and landed softly on his chest.
In a daze, he was pulled back to a distant memory when he was 20 years old.
Annabel was waiting for him in the snow, her nose red from the cold. She said with a smile, “Tristan, you’ve finally come. I have been waiting for you.”
But now,
she had finally stopped waiting.
Outside, the season’s first snow began to fall.
Kenneth’s car pulled up in front of a stark white building on the city’s outskirts.
“I was going to wait until construction was finished,” he said, opening the door for her. His fingertips softly brushed against her palm.
“However, someone has been such a workaholic. I couldn’t even make an appointment to see her.”
Annabel raised a brow. “Dr. Holland, is that a complaint?”
“It’s a protest.” He lowered his head to nip at her earlobe. “You’ve neglected me for three days and seven hours.”
Inside, the building was brightly lit. At the end of the hallway, a crystal plaque was draped in red cloth. Kenneth suddenly covered her eyes from behind.
“Count to three.”
In the darkness, she heard the rustle of fabric sliding down.
“Now open your eyes.”
The cloth had dropped, revealing the words engraved in silver beneath the spotlight.
The plaque read, “Annabel Norton Center for Trauma Research.”
“All profits will go toward research in trauma and post–injury recovery, including those old injuries on your knees,” Kenneth whispered near her ear.
Annabel stared at the plaque, her throat tightening.
He still remembered the scars she had from when she had crawled on her knees for that beaded bracelet.
Perhaps by coincidence, the research center’s lounge had a floor–to–ceiling window directly facing the old Morse Group building.
As she reviewed data on her tablet, she noticed faint reflections dancing across the ceiling. Looking up, she saw glowing blue words begin to scroll across the white wall.
“Anna, the kite’s stuck in the
Her whole body froze.
tree,”
It was a secret code Tristan had made up when she was 16 years old. He broke his arm trying to retrieve her kite that day. Yet he still smiled and told her, “Don’t cry, Anna. It doesn’t hurt.”
On the rooftop of the building across the street, a thin figure leaned against the railing. A laser pointer in his hand traced the air. Even from hundreds of feet away, she could recognize it was Tristan. He was wearing the school jacket from the day they first met, like a persistent ghost.
The light kept moving. A new line appeared, “This time, I’ll catch you.”
Annabel stared at the glowing words for three seconds. She suddenly stood up and drew the curtains closed.
As the room fell into darkness, she dialed Kenneth’s number.
“Come to the lounge now.” Her voice sounded unusually calm in her ears. “Bring the ring you hid in the second drawer of the changing room.”
From the other end of the line was a crisp sound of something falling.
“When did you find out?” Kenneth’s breathing was clearly ragged.
Annabel smiled faintly as she ran her fingers along the curtain’s edge.
“Last time when you secretly measured my finger, you got chalk dust all over my hand.”
10
Chapter 25
Across the street, the laser pointer still tried to pierce the closed curtains, casting a faint dot of light on the floor.
She stepped on the light. Outside, the sound of hurried footsteps drew closer.
“Kenneth Holland,” she suddenly called out his full name. “I want you to come in and propose to me now.
The door burst open. Holding a velvet ring box, he was breathless, but his eyes lit up.
At her feet, the laser flickered one last time before it vanished.
