At this moment, everyone fell silent, all eyes focused on Andrew, waiting for his reaction. Layla seemed to be engaged in a silent struggle, betting her life against these vampires, trying to see if she could pull Andrew back to her side. Then, after a long period of staring down at the ground, his hands gripping the hem of his shirt tightly, Andrew finally looked up. He slowly released his clenched fists, his tense shoulders relaxing, as if a heavy burden had been lifted. Andrew raised his eyes to meet Layla's and smiled—a warm smile, just like he always did when comforting her, gentle and full of affection.
But now, faced with that familiar smile, Layla felt a surge of unease. And just as she feared, Andrew spoke:
"I'm sorry, Layla, but what I want is for my family to live safely and happily. I don't want to cause anyone harm because of me. Layla, remember to do your homework, don't stay out too late, don't argue with our parents, don't skip your vegetables, don't eat too much fast food, make sure you exercise more, smile more often, and when you're sad, find someone to talk to instead of keeping it inside. And lastly, you sing beautifully. You should apply to the music department; I will support you, no matter where I am."
Andrew's voice was still as warm as ever, but each word felt like a dagger slicing through Layla's heart. His words of advice were filled with warmth, but she didn't want to hear them. She wished they had never been spoken. Tears streamed down Layla's cheeks uncontrollably, as if her eyes had melted into water. She wanted to scream at Andrew to shut up, but her throat tightened, leaving her paralyzed. Layla stood frozen on the spot.
*Wishing for the family's safety and happiness…*
Layla wanted that for him too.
At that moment, a sudden laugh rang out. The vampire standing in front of Layla sneered:
"So it's decided, then? What a tear-jerking farewell, Count Andrew, but we must leave now. The King is waiting for you."
Hearing this, Layla's eyes widened in panic and despair. It felt like the time her mother bought her a new balloon, only for it to slip from her grasp and float away into the sky. Layla cried out, and just then, the grip around her neck loosened. She immediately lunged forward to grab hold of Andrew, but in a blink of an eye, they were gone—all of them, including Andrew.
Her hand caught only empty air.
"No!" Layla collapsed to the ground, tears dripping steadily like a gentle rain soaking into the earth below. In that final moment, Andrew's gaze remained soft and tender. Layla couldn't accept it—she couldn't accept any of it.
The brother who had been by her side just moments ago was suddenly taken away.
The shock was so overwhelming and sudden that Layla couldn't process it.
But then Layla realized that sitting here crying was pointless. She couldn't lose Andrew like this. What did it matter if he was a vampire? She couldn't accept it, not like this. Layla's mind spun wildly as she thought of her parents. They had to know something about this. Wiping away her tears, she stood up and ran home.
She ran as fast as she could, faster than she ever had before, not feeling tired at all. Her vision blurred with tears, and her ears rang, her mind completely blank. By the time Layla finally reached home, she was dizzy, on the verge of collapsing.
"Layla!" Mr. John, who had been watering the flowers in the garden, dropped the hose and rushed to her side as he saw his daughter stumbling at the doorway. Layla's face was pale, and she was panting heavily, but the moment she saw Mr. John, no matter how exhausted she was, she forced herself to ask:
"Dad, you knew about Andrew, didn't you?"
Mr. John looked at his daughter's tear-streaked face, her eyes red and swollen, and a bad feeling settled in his chest.
"What… what are you talking about?"
"His identity. Just now, a group of strangers, claiming to be vampires, took him away."
At the mention of this, Layla couldn't hold back her sobs. Mr. John's face changed instantly. For a few seconds, he seemed frozen, but then he suppressed the turmoil inside and said:
"Let's go inside. Your mother and I will tell you everything."
Layla obediently stood up, and they both went into the house. At that moment, Mrs. Emily was cooking in the kitchen. Hearing the commotion, she came out to see what was happening, but when she saw Layla crying and Mr. John's pale face, a sense of dread washed over her.
"What's wrong?"
"Andrew has been taken away."
"By who!?" Mrs. Emily shouted, panic and fear written all over her face. In stark contrast to her, Mr. John sighed heavily.
"It could be… his family."
Mrs. Emily staggered backward, disbelief etched across her features. She stammered:
"His family? But Andrew is our son. We've raised him for eighteen years. How could they just take him away without permission, without even informing us?"
Hearing Mrs. Emily's words, Layla, who was slumped in her seat, felt a spark of realization. So what those people said was true—Andrew wasn't truly a part of this family.
"Let's sit down and talk. I think Layla has a lot of questions that need answers."
And so, the Robber family sat down together. Mr. John began by recounting that rainy night when someone knocked on their door. When he opened it, he found a baby lying on their doorstep, abandoned. The child, who would later be named Andrew, was only a newborn at the time, shivering from the cold and crying desperately, as if he hadn't even been fed his mother's milk. The reason someone chose to leave Andrew at their house was likely because Mrs. Emily had just given birth. The very next day, Mr. John went to register Andrew as their adopted son.
As Layla listened, her mind was a whirlwind, her ears buzzing as if someone had struck her hard. It was all true. It wasn't a lie. It wasn't a dream.
At that moment, Mr. John reached out to hold her hand.
"Layla, we know this is a shock, and it's hard to accept. If it weren't for what happened today, we would've never told you or Andrew that he was adopted. We were afraid he would feel out of place, that he would feel insecure and sad, because we've always considered him a part of our family. There's never been a difference between our biological and adopted children."
"That's right," Mrs. Emily added, her voice trembling. "I nursed him myself, and both of you grew up under our care. There was never any favoritism."
Layla knew her parents were trying to make her understand, but what devastated her wasn't that revelation. In a weak voice, she said:
"Do you know what those people called Andrew earlier? They called him a Count. And they are vampires. So is Andrew. I saw it with my own eyes…"
"Vampires?" Mrs. Emily exclaimed, horror and disbelief in her eyes. "Oh my God, does that mean that for the past eighteen years, we've been… we've been…"