Everyone was shocked, pondering whether to follow the girl's request, especially seeing how she had become a mere shadow of her former self. Moved by pity, Cyrus voiced the question on everyone's minds, "Should we end her misery?"; "No," Abaddon muttered, his voice firm, "we need to question her first. Let's get her cleaned up and treated. Killing her would be a waste; she holds valuable information that could significantly aid our case."
His gaze swept over the group, challenging them. "Are you heartless, or just foolish ?" Christian asked ," Don't you see that this girl is suffering? She's a mere shadow of herself. Questioning her only reminds her of her trauma."
Everyone around nodded in agreement, their looks of disdain directed at Abaddon.
"I don't care what you think of me," Abaddon retorted, his expression cold and indifferent. "She is key to understanding what happened and identifying the perpetrator. So, you only care about the mission?" Treasure's asked, turning to Abaddon ,
Her voice was bitter. "I know I'm arrogant and self-centered, but you, you're just a heartless monster."
"I don't care. If you're trying to stop me, : I will face all of you if needed. I won't let you kill her. She is more useful alive," Abaddon declared, taking a fighting stance and drawing his sword. The others, except Ivana, followed suit.
"Stop! We are not saying we'll kill her," Ivana intervened. "We can take her to the hospital for treatment and psychological support."
"But won't that take time we don't have?" Abaddon questioned.
"I understand, but let's first take her to a hotel to get cleaned up and treated. Then we can discuss our next steps," Ivana proposed, her voice calm but her eyes conveying urgency.
"Will you put down your weapons now?" Her gaze remained steady, awaiting their response.
Abaddon and his teammates were met with the welcoming glow of a charming hotel, nestled in the heart of the bustling city. The exterior of the building was a harmonious blend of elegant brickwork, wrought iron accents, and vibrant window boxes bursting with colorful blooms.
Stepping into the welcoming foyer, the interior of the hotel exuded a warm, inviting ambiance that was both homely and upscale. The smooth parquet floors gleamed, offset by the inviting glow of brass lanterns and the delicate aroma of freshly cut flowers , They arrived at the reception, where they were greeted by a young woman in her twenties, sporting vibrant purple hair and matching eyes , Upon approaching the reception desk, they were warmly greeted by the receptionist, who offered a friendly smile. "Good day, travelers! Welcome to Sunfield Hotel. My name is Grace. How may I assist you today?" she said.
Ivana responded, "Do you have any rooms available? We ladies would like the best room you have, while the gentlemen can take anything available. Also, do we have access to a healer? Our friend needs treatment."
Abaddon, who was carrying the little girl affected by the incident, subtly allowed the receptionist to glimpse her face.
"Yes, we have a healer available, and rooms for you as well. Please wait a few moments, and the healer will come," Grace replied.
"Thank you," Ivana said with a slight smile.
"You're welcome," the receptionist responded, her tone warm and concerned. "And take good care of the little girl."
Ivana, Christian, Treasure, Abaddon, and Cyrus were seated with the two officials accompanying them. The women took their places on the beds, while the men opted for chairs, all facing the small girl who had been rescued from a horrific incident. Although she had been cleaned and dressed in a white, silver-trimmed gown, with her sky-blue hair framing her face, the traumatic past was still evident. Her haunting, cold blue eyes—reminiscent of an early winter morning—betrayed no emotion, and a prominent scar slashed across her face, a stark reminder of her delayed rescue. She sat motionless, her expression blank; were it not for her shallow breathing, one might have mistaken her for a lifeless figure.
Christian's voice broke the heavy silence, tinged with sadness. "What we're doing is wrong. She's just a kid. Isn't this questioning too much?"
"I know," Ivana replied with a sigh, her voice heavy with resignation. "But we have no other leads. This is the only way."
Abaddon rose and slowly approached the girl. He crouched to meet her gaze and gently traced the line of her scar, his voice soft yet distant. "We are sorry for arriving late. Because of us, you bear these scars. You suffered because we couldn't make it in time. But by helping us now, you can prevent many others from enduring the same fate you suffered."
Everyone in the room was taken aback by his words, surprised and even shocked. The little girl, moved by the unexpected gesture of empathy, responded in a faint, whispering voice, "My name is Lucy Gracefield."