"Forgive me, Oliver. We'll talk later." Sara ran down the main corridor and disappeared behind a wall, following Simon's footsteps. The ghost led her to an empty classroom to leave her a message on the blackboard. Only two phantoms could communicate verbally with her because they were special: her grandmother—a medium—and an orphan who had died there. The girl must have had extraordinary abilities too, because other ghosts could only leave written messages.
She carefully followed every word that Simon wrote with chalk, though he didn't hold it in his hand. The white object floated in the air, leaving words written in careful script on the blackboard. With each new mark, her heart began to beat dangerously fast. Fear overtook her body, causing a rising panic. Simon had learned a shocking secret hidden underground. He was the only ghost to reveal the truth to her. Why hadn't her grandmother warned her about something so terrible? Why were the ghosts hiding it if they cared about revenge?
"So the object the General was searching for so persistently is the key to the tragedy," she whispered in a trembling voice. Simon nodded, and she pushed back the chair and sat down, feeling weak. She hadn't thought it could be something so cruel. But what else could she expect from a man with no heart? The General was a monster who had hated the people of Poland since his youth. He was planning something vile against them. During the war, he had not only tortured them, taking sick satisfaction in it, but he was already plotting revenge.
Sara closed her eyelids as tears welled up. Instantly, she lost all hope, fearing the worst. The confidence she had gained in this place—the brave attitude—vanished, leaving her with old fears. She shivered despite the room being at a normal temperature.
A lone tear slipped from under her closed eyelid. Simon looked at the teenager with sadness in his eyes. He saw a frightened girl afraid of the future. She feared what was coming. Would she ever see her father again? Would there be a moment when she could be happy by Alan's side?
"What should I do, Simon?" she asked in a brittle voice, lowering her head and tangling her hands in her hair.
The boy left her another message. She lifted her face, wiped her cheeks, and looked with interest at the board:
"Don't give up. You must fight and leave this place. Don't let this madman win."
These words put a faint smile on her face. Even after death, he still worried about Laura.
"I will do my best. I will protect her. We all will," she replied, and the boy nodded. "After all, you didn't die in vain. You probably defended her," she added, sensing her words matched the truth.
"I once told her I'd do anything for her. I will protect her even if I have to lose my life."
"That's true love. You loved her so much. Lucky her," she said through tears.
The boy dissolved into thin air instantly, causing her slight anxiety. She looked around the classroom and widened her eyes when she spotted her grandmother. She understood why Simon had disappeared.
"You've learned the truth about the thing I hid," the spirit said. Sara wiped her still-wet eyes with her hand.
"Why didn't you tell me? Do you realize this endangers many lives?" she asked nervously. "You want to protect me, so why did you conceal the truth?"
The ghost moved closer and looked her in the face with pain in her eyes. She decided to reveal the truth.
"Because I didn't want you to ever know the location of this thing. It's dangerous. It's better if you don't find out. That way, the General won't get the truth from you. He won't kill you until he finds it."
"Comforting!" Sara raised her voice, glaring fiercely. "So he's going to torture me until I lose my sanity?"
"Aren't you willing to sacrifice yourself to protect your loved ones? Are you sure about that?" The spirit's words made Sara remember how her grandmother had acted—giving her life to save others.
"The more I think about it, the more I believe it'd be better if we just killed the General..." Sara whispered, troubling the spirit.
"Don't even think about it, Sara!" the ghost shouted. "You are not murderers. No one could live a normal life after something so tragic. It's a grave sin, and the remorse is so strong that a person can't cope spiritually. Only a monster, a man without a heart, can ignore that."
Sara's thoughts drifted again to Alan. She kept telling herself he suffered inside and just hid it, but she never saw a shadow of pain on his face after what had happened. Or maybe she preferred not to see it, so she wouldn't suffer along with him?
"How can I stop it? I know I won't destroy it, but he won't rest until he finds the uranium." She said the last word with great difficulty.
She was horrified by how much importance this element had in causing tragic damage.
"It's true. You won't destroy it because it would harm you—radiation is strong. That's why I repeat: it's better if you don't find out the location of the uranium."
Sara took a deep breath and sighed. Simon had told her a secret that caused unnecessary anxiety. It was so strong she couldn't stop thinking about it.
"So the place I saw underground, where people worked in overalls—that place..."
"Yes. They're working on an atomic bomb there," her grandmother answered, watching Sara's frightened face. "They began the work during the war, but the uranium was taken from the General, so he couldn't complete the plan. This is the most important part, brought to the General by a man from Russia. He was an outstanding scientist who perfected this uranium to cause a giant explosion. He fled shortly afterward, wanting nothing to do with it. Without him, the General is like a headless man," she explained.
"That's why he's trying to find it at all costs—to complete his plan. He wants to destroy Poland..."
"There's something behind his hatred for our people, but no one knows the secret. He plans revenge—that's why he became a General so young. That was his goal from the start," she announced, stirring Sara's curiosity.
"Why do you think that?"
"I don't know. But I think your friend will be happy to help you discover the truth," she said, pointing to the open door.
Sara stepped out of the classroom and spotted a surprised Oliver. The brunet opened his eyes wide, clearly shocked to be caught. "He'd been standing there the whole time. He must have followed."
"Oliver."
"I was worried about you, so I followed you. I'm sorry," he said, looking at Sara with remorse in his eyes.
Sara shook her head, grabbed his shirt sleeve, and led him inside. She sat him in a chair and leaned against the wall, facing him. She wasn't angry. She realized he wanted to know the truth about the center too. They were on the same team—why hide anything?
"You heard it all…"
"Yes," he replied briefly. "Though I only heard your words, I pieced it together. I understand the danger we face."
"Let's not tell the others yet," she said, noticing a slight grimace on Oliver's face.
"Alan too?"
"Don't get me started on Oliver." Sara froze him with a look, warning him not to dwell.
"Then maybe, since we're alone, I'll tell you what we talked about—unless you want to run away again because you're afraid to hear what your lover hides," he said maliciously, which didn't please her.
She noticed her grandmother watching him with interest. She showed no sympathy either, calling him a walking menace. Sara understood she wanted to hear Oliver's take on Alan.
"We're in danger, and you want to talk about Alan?"
"We've been threatened all along, but we didn't know what. Right now, we can't act anyway, so what else should we think about? I can assure you your beloved is involved in this. I see you're finally interested. Ready to know the real face of the man you love? Prepare to be disappointed—your prince is no prince, but a villain."
*
Laura looked at the photos in which she posed with Simon, a smile on her face. In many of them, they were fooling around and smiling sincerely at the camera, enjoying each other's company. He had been the one person she could always count on when she needed something. He was irreplaceable—the only friend and at the same time the man she had sincerely loved. All along, her heart had been with Matthew, even though she had the perfect man at her side. She had overlooked him, treating him like a best friend, and now she suffered because Simon was gone. She couldn't hug him, talk to him, or complain, because Simon was gone. She felt an emptiness in her heart that grew bigger every day. She couldn't control it, even though she told others that everything was fine. Among her colleagues, she pretended to come to terms with his death, but the moment they left, she suffered alone. She cried, regretting that she had not changed the course of events. She was the one who would have liked to protect Simon, because she had repeatedly made him uncomfortable, and show true affection for once. She was the one who felt she deserved to die. Simon had suffered too much because of her...
She hid her head between her knees and wiped her nose, shedding more tears. The feeling came on its own, and she couldn't stop crying. Whenever she remembered Simon, she suffered the same way every time.
The blond man looked at her with pain in his eyes, unable to do anything. He wanted to help her, to do something to make her finally forget about him and stop crying, but he couldn't. As a ghost, he couldn't communicate with her—only through Sara—but he knew that would cause Laura even more pain. She was better off not knowing about his presence.
He spotted Matthew in the doorway. The boy walked uncertainly inside, not knowing how to act. Laura was crying but didn't want to back down again. He had already made this mistake twice because he didn't know how to calm her down.
"Laura?" he asked hesitantly, fearing she would throw him out. The brunette wiped away her tears and looked at him, forcing a smile.
"Oh, Matthew. What brings you here?"
"I wanted to check on you. Are you all right?" he asked shyly, looking at her tear-streaked face.
He saw that she was suffering, so he wanted to be careful with what he said around her.
"I cried some sorrows in solitude, so it feels better. It's good to shed some tears occasionally," she claimed.
The boy nodded and sat down on the bed right in front of her.
"Can I make you something? Are you hungry, or do you want something to drink?" he asked, noticing that her body was suffering along with her soul. He was sure she hadn't eaten anything, and in front of others, she pretended everything was fine.
"I'm not hungry. Thank you for your concern," she said, lowering her gaze. He glanced down at his feet and moved them nervously.
He saw that she was lying. She was hungry but had no desire to eat.
"You know that in this state you won't improve anything. You have to eat to keep going."
Simon looked at Matthew and saw that the boy was indeed worried about her. He looked at her with concern and wasn't going to let go until she pulled herself together.
He left her in good hands. At least now Matthew could make up for the past.
"Don't force food on me. If I want to, I'll go downstairs and have a snack myself," she said tersely.
She didn't intend to do that. She was irritable, which meant no meal was planned. She wanted him to leave her alone.
"Well, in that case, I'll stay with you. If you get hungry, we'll go to the canteen together. What do you think?"
The girl threw him an annoyed look but said nothing. She had no choice. Matthew wasn't going to leave the room.
*
Sara took a quick step down the corridor, wiping tears from her cheeks. She had never thought Oliver's confession would shock her so deeply. She couldn't get his words out of her head, especially one sentence that lodged itself painfully in her heart.
Should she believe him? She had a vague feeling of doubt because she couldn't accept that Alan would say such things. She told herself Oliver must have made it up. Maybe most of their conversation was true, but that one sentence couldn't have come from the man she loved. After all, he had promised to protect her. He said he would do everything to keep her safe—so how could he say something so shocking?
She needed to find Alan as soon as possible to confirm whether those words were true. Although, if he had something on his conscience, would he let her listen to Oliver with such conviction? He should feel concern—and yet he hadn't looked worried.
Oliver often made things up and did everything to separate her from Alan. Was this time any different?
He was her friend, and she wanted to believe him, but lately he had been crossing the line.
The fact that they had quarreled and Alan told Oliver to stay away from her was understandable. She believed he actually said it. But to threaten him with death was an exaggeration. She couldn't believe it—especially the moment when Oliver said that if something upset him, he would join the General and turn the place into an even worse hell.
That couldn't be true, she thought, biting her lip. She tried to stop crying, but whenever those words echoed in her mind, the tears came back. She didn't know who to believe.
She stopped when someone grabbed her forearm.
Oliver pulled her by the hand and pressed her against the wall so she couldn't escape. He wanted to finally make her see reason.
"Wake up, girl. I'm sick of watching him manipulate you, do you hear?" he shouted in her face, grabbing her chin with his other hand to keep her from looking away.
"Let me go, Oliver," she said, raising her voice and trying to push his hand away, but he was adamant. He wasn't going to let go so easily.
"I'm worried about you, Sara. If I thought he was actually good, I wouldn't interfere with your relationship. But I'm observant—and I figured him out from the start. Evil is written in his eyes. I've told you so many times he's an asshole, but you're so wrapped up in him you don't see it. Sara, it's just a matter of time before he shows his horns to you too. Please, listen to me for once."
She looked into his eyes and saw genuine concern. Oliver was telling the truth—but why couldn't she accept it? Was she so afraid of losing the man she loved? She couldn't imagine turning away from him.
"I just want you to start being more careful with him. I'm not saying you should turn your back on him right away—but you need to finally see his true nature," he said more calmly, seeing how she looked at him. She gave the impression she was slowly beginning to believe him. There was none of the hostility in her eyes that had been there before when he spoke ill of Alan.
"I'm feeling more and more that you're telling the truth—but that's what scares me so much. I don't want to lose him," she whispered quietly.
At that moment, she looked so lost, so innocent, that Oliver's heart beat faster. As he stared into her eyes more intensely, he felt himself losing control.
Finally, he couldn't hold back. Instinctively, he pressed his lips to hers—only then realizing what he had done.
He slowly pulled away and looked uncertainly at her face. The girl looked shocked. This was the wrong moment. He had chosen the wrong moment.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly, completely unsure how to act. He let go of her hand and stepped back to a safe distance, in case she suddenly wanted to punch him. But she made no move. With wide-open eyes, she looked at him, unsure how to react.
He had kissed her. Oliver had done it without her permission—and she felt no anger. What was wrong with her? She felt like she had betrayed Alan. She had allowed Oliver to kiss her. She had made no effort to stop him. She wasn't even angry with him.
Something was wrong... something unexpected was happening to her feelings. Did she have hidden feelings for Oliver?
Alan, standing behind the wall, clenched his fists as he witnessed the painful scene. Anger bubbled inside him so fiercely that he felt like rushing in and killing Oliver without a second thought.
He leaned against the wall, breathing heavily, trying to control his rage.
Would that bring relief?
He didn't think so.
Sara had hurt him so deeply—and he had believed it would never happen. She was the one person he trusted implicitly. He always said she was the only one he could be at peace with—that she would never stab him in the back. And yet, she had. She had hurt him more than anyone else ever had.
"You will both regret this," he hissed through clenched teeth.
*
The exasperated boy entered the director's office and found the General sitting in his younger brother's chair. A shrill melody echoed through the room, and the man was enjoying it, his eyes closed as his hands moved in time with the music. He was so engrossed in the piece that he didn't hear the footsteps of his grandson, who stood before the desk, arms crossed tightly over his chest. Alan radiated intense anger, and the General's dismissive behavior only fueled his irritation. Without thinking about the consequences, he walked over to the old tape recorder that was playing the cassette and slapped it with an open palm, abruptly interrupting the General's soothing therapy. Alan was the only man in the building unafraid of the psychopathic old man.
The General lifted his eyelids and noticed his grandson. He sighed deeply, a half-smile appearing on his face, expressing satisfaction that the boy had finally come to his senses.
"What happened, grandson? Did your fiancée dump you?" he asked, looking into Alan's eyes and noting the genuine agitation there. Something had clearly angered him; he looked as if he might erupt into a fit of rage.
"Don't mock me," Alan snapped, raising his voice and warning the General to keep his unnecessary comments to himself. His fierce gaze bore into the old man, and when the General raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, Alan sat down in the chair. He rested his elbows on the desktop, clasped his hands into a fist, and nervously bounced his leg.
"So you've thought it through…"
Alan lifted his face and furrowed his brows as he recalled the proposal he had received from the General. The man wanted him to join forces at any cost, but Alan was firmly against it. He couldn't side with someone who intended to hurt Sarah. Now that she had betrayed him, stabbed him in the back, he felt bitter resentment toward her. He couldn't accept that the girl he had trusted so deeply—the girl he had been willing to do anything for—had broken his heart. He had believed she loved him, that she would never believe Oliver's words, but apparently, Oliver had managed to convince her. Still, Alan wasn't going to give up. This was just the beginning.
"You were right. Poles of flesh and blood… they are all the same," he declared unexpectedly, looking at the General with pain in his eyes. "I thought there were exceptions, but it's true… they are the ones who have no heart," he added in a hysterical voice. "They're the ones who can destroy a person!" He shouted, blinking rapidly to chase away the tears that threatened to fall. He refused to show weakness before the General.
"You've finally come to your senses. You know my story well. They're the ones who started this war. They were the ones who unjustifiably killed my parents just because they felt like it. They're the ones who deprived me of my real family and my humanity. They created the monster in me!" He slammed his fist angrily on the desktop. "Now do you understand why, from a young age, I dreamed of destroying them?"
"She's the same way. She made me suffer. I never thought I could feel such pain. She destroyed me," he whispered, staring blankly at a single point while nervously fidgeting with his hands.
"I've told you many times that the women of Poland are cruel. All of them. Every one deserves to die." Alan bit his lip and looked the General squarely in the face.
"I'll join you—but leave Sarah alone. I won't let anyone take her away from me. I will take care of her myself."
The General nodded in agreement. He rose from his chair and circled the desk. Placing a hand on his grandson's shoulder, he smiled winningly.
"I believe you will complete my work…"