Nicolas roamed the city, his frustration and desperation growing with every passing moment. He scanned the faces in the crowd, hoping to spot the woman who had bumped into him earlier that day. His heart raced, each step feeling like a countdown to losing the one thing he held dear.
The night felt colder now, even with the dazzling lights and lively noise of the city. People passed by him, laughing and talking, oblivious to the storm brewing inside him. Just as he was about to give up, he saw her — the lady from earlier, standing near a food stall, her face illuminated by the warm glow of the vendor's lamp.
Without hesitation, Nicolas ran toward her. "Wait! Please, wait!" he called out, his voice cracking with urgency.
The woman turned, startled by the sudden shout. Her face paled when she saw Nicolas approaching her, and she instinctively stepped back.
"You!" Nicolas said, breathless. "You bumped into me earlier today. My necklace... it's gone. Did you take it?"
The woman's eyes darted around nervously, and for a moment, she looked like she might run. But something in Nicolas's voice stopped her — the raw desperation, the pain. She sighed, lowering her gaze.
"Look, kid," she said, her tone softening, "I don't usually do this, but... yeah. I took it. I'm sorry."
Nicolas froze, his worst fear confirmed. "Why? Why would you take it? It's all I have left of my mother!" His voice cracked as tears welled up in his eyes.
The woman's expression shifted, a pang of guilt washing over her. "I didn't know, okay? I didn't know it meant so much to you." She hesitated, then added, "I... I've been struggling too. I needed money, so I sold it to a jewelry store."
"Sold it?" Nicolas's heart sank further. He felt like the ground beneath him was crumbling.
"Yes," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I sold it to a store not far from here. I didn't think much of it. I'm sorry, kid. Really, I am."
Nicolas wiped his eyes, determination replacing his despair. "Take me there," he said firmly.
The woman hesitated again but finally nodded. "Alright, let's go. I'll show you."
They walked quickly through the crowded streets, the woman leading Nicolas to a small jewelry store tucked between two larger buildings. The store's sign flickered, its neon light casting a faint glow on the sidewalk.
"This is the place," the woman said, pointing at the door.
Nicolas wasted no time, rushing inside. The store was dimly lit, the glass cases filled with shiny trinkets that glittered under the light. An older man stood behind the counter, polishing a ring. He looked up as Nicolas and the woman entered.
"Can I help you?" the man asked, his tone polite but wary.
Nicolas stepped forward, his voice trembling. "A necklace. A silver one with a small pendant. It was sold here earlier today. Do you still have it?"
The man frowned, setting down the ring. "A silver necklace... let me check." He moved to the back of the store, rummaging through a drawer. Nicolas's heart pounded in his chest as he waited, each second feeling like an eternity.
Finally, the man returned, shaking his head. "I'm sorry, but it's already been sold. A gentleman came in a few hours ago and bought it."
Nicolas's shoulders slumped, and his world seemed to collapse again. "Do you know who bought it? Can you tell me anything about him?"
The man nodded slowly. "He's a regular customer. Wealthy guy, lives in one of the upscale neighborhoods on the other side of the city. I don't know his name, but I can give you the address of his estate."
Nicolas nodded, his resolve hardening. "Please, I need that address."
The man hesitated for a moment but eventually scribbled the information on a small piece of paper and handed it to Nicolas.
"Thank you," Nicolas said, clutching the paper tightly.
The woman watched him, her guilt evident. "Kid, I'm really sorry. I didn't mean for any of this to happen."
Nicolas turned to her, his eyes full of determination. "It's okay," he said quietly. "I'll get it back."
As he stepped out of the store, the night air hit him, carrying with it a new sense of purpose. The journey wasn't over yet, and Nicolas was ready to do whatever it took to retrieve the necklace — the last piece of his mother and the life he had lost.
The woman stood in silence for a moment, watching Nicolas clutch the paper with the address. Something about the boy's unwavering determination pulled at her conscience. She sighed deeply, then spoke.
"Wait," she said, her voice softer now. "You're not going alone."
Nicolas blinked, surprised. "What? Why?"
"Because this is my fault," she admitted, crossing her arms. "If I hadn't taken that necklace, you wouldn't be in this mess. I can't just let you go off by yourself. Besides..." She hesitated, then added, "You're just a kid. What if something happens to you?"
Nicolas frowned but didn't argue. The truth was, he didn't know what he would do once he got there, and the thought of having someone with him felt like a relief.
The woman pulled up the hood of her jacket, hiding most of her face. "Let's go. But before we do, I think you should at least know my name. It's Zehara."
"Zehara," Nicolas repeated, studying her carefully.
With a sigh, Zehara pulled her hood back down, revealing her face fully for the first time. Nicolas's eyes widened in shock.
"You're... you're so young," he stammered.
Zehara smirked faintly. "Yeah, well, life doesn't really care how old you are, does it? I'm sixteen, by the way."
"Sixteen?" Nicolas said, astonished. He had imagined her as someone much older, hardened by the world, but now he saw someone not much older than himself.
"Don't look so surprised," she said, brushing a strand of dark hair from her face. "I've been on my own for a while now. You learn to survive pretty quickly when you don't have a choice."
Nicolas stared at her for a moment before nodding. "Alright, Zehara. Let's do this."
She gave him a small nod in return, determination sparking in her eyes. Together, they stepped back into the bustling city streets, ready to face whatever awaited them at the address in their hands.
They walked together through the bustling streets, the city alive with its glimmering lights and endless activity. As they moved, their conversation flowed, an attempt to distract themselves from the daunting task ahead.
Nicolas began to share bits of his life, carefully omitting the fact that he was from the outside. "I've been through a lot," he said, his voice low. "But I'm lucky. A farmer and his son took me in and gave me a place to stay. They didn't have to, but they did." He deliberately avoided mentioning Uncle Shawn and Jay by name, protecting their identities.
Zehara nodded, her own gaze fixed on the ground as she listened. "You're lucky," she said softly. "I didn't have anyone to take me in. My parents... they died when I was little. I've been on my own for years. The authorities told me I'd have to leave soon, like so many others. But I can't. So I hide. I survive."
The weight of her words hung between them, and for a moment, they walked in silence. Then, Nicolas broke the quiet. "Why don't we just take a car? I'll pay the fare. It'll be faster."
Zehara immediately shook her head. "No way. If I get caught, it's over for me. They'll know I'm not supposed to be here."
"Alright," Nicolas said reluctantly. "We'll keep walking."
The journey felt endless, their legs growing heavier with every step. But when they finally reached the address scribbled on the paper, both of them froze in their tracks.
Before them stood a massive estate, its grandeur unlike anything Nicolas had ever seen. The house was colossal, with intricate details carved into its walls and golden light spilling from its windows. Beautiful gardens surrounded the mansion, and even the gate looked like it belonged to royalty.
"Wow," Zehara whispered, her eyes wide. "I knew it would be big, but this..."
"It's... unbelievable," Nicolas murmured, unable to tear his eyes away.
But their awe quickly turned to fear as they noticed the guards stationed at the gate. The men stood tall and imposing, their sharp eyes scanning the area. Nicolas swallowed hard, his nerves on edge.
"We can't turn back now," Zehara said firmly. "We came all this way."
Nicolas nodded, summoning his courage. Together, they approached the guards, explaining their purpose in as steady a voice as they could manage. The guards exchanged glances, their expressions unreadable, but after a tense moment, one of them nodded and opened the gate.
As they stepped onto the grand estate, the magnitude of their surroundings sank in. The path leading to the mansion was lined with perfectly trimmed hedges and ornate statues. Every step felt heavier, as if the weight of the situation was pressing down on them.
When they reached the massive double doors, Nicolas hesitated, his heart pounding in his chest. The door opened slowly, and a figure stepped into view.
Nicolas's breath caught in his throat as he recognized the silhouette. His legs felt like they were rooted to the ground, unable to move.
"No..." he whispered, his voice barely audible.
Zehara glanced at him, concerned. "What is it? Do you know him?"
Nicolas couldn't answer. He just stood there, frozen, as the man in the doorway came fully into view.