As soon as we returned behind the wall, I didn't see that boy for many days. We didn't exchange a single word, and neither of us tried to look for the other. I think we were both trying to run away from each other. I didn't even leave the house; I spent my days locked in my room, endlessly thinking about the words he said to me that night.

I tried to convince myself that everything he said was nonsense, just lies meant to justify what he'd done. But the more I replayed that moment in my head, the more doubt began to creep in, little by little. Back then, it didn't seem like he was lying.

One night, while everyone was asleep, I sneaked out of my room. The door leading to my father's office was locked, but the key was in its usual spot above the wooden frame. I unlocked the door, stepped inside, and entered quietly.

The room was filled with moonlight seeping through the curtains, and the smell of ink hung in the air.

I began searching through drawers and cabinets. At first, I found nothing but regular official papers, daily reports, and the usual imperial seals.

But after about fifteen minutes of searching, I found a small wooden box at the top of the cabinet. I pulled it down with some effort and opened it. Inside were neatly arranged folders labeled "Work Reports in the Lower District."

I looked toward the door to make sure no one had woken up, then sat on the chair, took out one of the files, and started reading carefully.

At first, there was nothing suspicious just reports about maintenance work, monitoring merchant activity, and market conditions. But the more I read, the more the tone of the texts began to change. There were names of children, their ages, their origins, and strange notes beside them. Words like "Inherited Authority," "Unstable Primary Power," "Candidate for Transfer to Research Unit No. 3."

There were repeated mentions of "the Lower District" as a place where children from old noble bloodlines appeared, children who carried mysterious powers. Among the documents, I clearly read a paragraph saying that children with strong Authority abilities were sent to facilities under the Imperial Forces for experimentation, while those with weak abilities... were sold to gangs in the Lower District. The "Guardians" gang was listed as a partner in some experiments, under the supervision of an Imperial researcher who led them.

At the end of the page, it said،

– Report overseen by Gabriel.

I carefully returned the papers to their place, closed the box, put it back on top of the cabinet, then quietly left the office.

The boy hadn't lied. Every word he said was true. If Adam had come here if anyone had discovered his abilities... No, I couldn't even bring myself to imagine it.

...

Years passed after that, and during them, I became someone else entirely. I no longer left my room, and I no longer spoke to anyone. My mother would sometimes knock on the door, asking if I was alright, while my father would try to start small talk at dinner but I never answered. I avoided their eyes the same way I avoided myself.

I hated every moment I lived. Every "beautiful" day of my life, every peaceful moment, was built on the suffering of so many people like Adam. And what I had discovered was only the surface there had to be far more hidden things I couldn't uncover.

I could no longer sit with them at the table as before. Just being near them suffocated me. I couldn't pretend to be happy or laugh while eating; every bite reminded me that this house, this table, this comfort all of it was built on the pain of others like Adam.

My father tried many times to talk to me, but eventually, he gave up. And things stayed that way for years until the day my little sister, Iris, was born.

I didn't even know my mother had been pregnant. I had been so buried in my isolation that I hadn't noticed anything until that day, when I heard the baby's cry for the first time. I came out of my room as if something had pulled me out of a long coma.

I entered my mother's room. She was exhausted but smiling, and my father stood beside her. In her arms was Iris tiny, wrapped in a white blanket, crying softly.

When I looked at her, I felt something strange deep inside me. From that day on, I began to leave my room again. I'd sit beside her for hours, just watching her sleep.

As the years passed, Iris grew she turned five, while I turned fifteen.

I started taking her outside to the yard. I'd watch her run across the grass, laughing as her hair danced in the wind. I wasn't the same person I had been, but I tried to adjust again for her sake alone.

I tried to regain my ability to speak to others, to smile again. As for my relationship with my parents, it stayed cold as ever, but at least I no longer ran away. I couldn't bring myself to hate them, even if I couldn't forgive them. After all, my mother had nothing to do with any of this.

As for that boy, I hadn't spoken to him since that night we parted by the wall. Years went by without a single word between us. Still, I would sometimes see him at official gatherings held every month in the district. He had changed a lot quieter, more withdrawn. His face no longer carried that bright energy he once had.

Meanwhile, I tried to return to normal life. I helped my mother cook, took care of Iris, and told myself the past should stay buried. I wanted to forget.

But one day, while I was sitting in my room reading a book about an old legend of a court jester who made a deal with a demon, I heard a series of knocks on the window.

When I stood before the window and pulled the curtain aside, I saw that boy standing there. His hair looked a bit longer. I opened the window, and before I could say a word, he jumped inside quickly and grabbed my arm.

"Diana, you have to run... now."

Next chapter will be updated first on this website. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.