Chapter One: Unfortunate Beginning
Welcome once again.
Don't worry, I won't bore you (hopefully).
After that long synopsis, you're probably a bit annoyed. So, let's dive straight in.
We begin with Vera's aunt. Naturally, there's no need to remember her — after all, she probably won't even be mentioned again later.
Friday evening in Crawley, a town in West Sussex, England.
Amidst the noisy sounds of workers leaving the factory and the slight drizzle from the pouring sky, a woman was eagerly gesturing to a passing cab.
She was of short stature, smaller than a sixteen-year-old girl, with a delicate, child-like face. Such a figure might make some people mistake her for a child if it weren't for the ring on her finger, clearly visible as she held a black umbrella.
The ring made it clear to those nearby, or even to sharp-eyed onlookers, that she was not a child. Unfortunately for her, the cab she was gesturing to drove right past. Perhaps the driver questioned whether a child could pay or mistook her gestures as a prank.
The reason was unknown, but regardless of the cab driver's intentions, her inability to catch a ride to wherever she intended to go was a hurdle. Her anxious face only emphasized her predicament.
But perhaps she was lucky, or her jumping figure aroused pity!
Well, no matter what it was, it was enough to prompt a middle-aged man — clad in a soot-streaked shirt with rolled-up sleeves, heavy work boots caked in dirt, and carrying the faint smell of machine oil — to come see if she needed help. His rough hands and weathered face betrayed years spent toiling in the factory
Truly, a knight in shining armor coming to the rescue.
Just a pity that this story won't bend that way — be it the fact that the woman was engaged, or the fact that I don't fancy a romance stirring butterflies in my stomach.
The man approached her cautiously, his voice rough but kind.
"Excuse me, miss. Do you need help? You seem to be in some trouble," he said, his thick accent betraying his local roots.
The woman, startled but relieved, turned to him with a nervous smile. "Oh, thank goodness. Yes, I do. My name is Caroline, Caroline Hayward," she introduced herself, extending her hand briefly before realizing the rain made it impractical.
"Well, Caroline, what's the matter?" the man asked, concern evident in his tone.
"It's my nephew," she said, her voice wavering slightly. "He's… he's lost. I've been trying to find a cab to search for him, but none of them will stop.
The man's expression softened further as he nodded. "All right, let me help you. There's no sense in you standing out here any longer."
He walked a few paces to the edge of the road, raising his hand with a practiced motion. Within moments, a cab slowed and pulled to a stop beside them. The man opened the door for Caroline, shielding her with his broad frame from the rain.
"Thank you so much," Caroline said sincerely as she climbed into the cab. She gave the driver an address, her voice quick and anxious. "Please, I need to get there as fast as you can. It's urgent."
The driver glanced at her in the rearview mirror, noting her distressed expression, and gave a curt nod. "I'll do my best, ma'am."
As the cab sped through the rain-slick streets, Caroline kept fidgeting with her hands, her eyes darting to the window. "Please hurry," she repeated, her voice almost a whisper, though the driver didn't respond this time, focusing on navigating the wet roads.
Finally, the cab turned onto a narrow, gravel-lined path, the trees on either side growing denser as they approached. Caroline's breathing quickened as she recognized the area.
"Just up ahead," she directed, her tone urgent. "Stop at the gate, please."
The cab came to a halt at a rusted iron gate, the faint outline of a cabin visible beyond it, nestled near the edge of the woods. Caroline handed the fare to the driver with shaking hands, muttering a quick "thank you" before stepping out into the rain. The cold droplets soaked through her clothes almost immediately, but she barely noticed.
The gate creaked as she pushed it open, her shoes sinking slightly into the damp earth as she hurried toward the cabin. It wasn't too deep into the woods, just a short two-to-five-minute walk from the nearest settlement, but the isolation made it feel much farther. She clutched her umbrella tightly, her heart pounding as she reached the door
As Caroline reached the doorstep, she spotted a snake, mistaking it for a viper. Fear surged through her, and she kicked a stone toward it. The snake, seemingly startled, slithered off to the side and, unnoticed by her, squeezed through a small hole in the wall, slipping inside the house.
Unknowing of such event, She reaches toward the doorstep.
Caroline twisted the unlocked door handle and flung the door open. She stepped inside with a frustrated sigh, her voice sharp as she cursed at Andrew.
"How the hell did you manage to lose a three-month-old?" she snapped, glaring around the room as if expecting to find the child hiding somewhere.
"He can't even walk properly yet, and you've already lost him after just two days? Unbelievable!" She shook her head in disbelief, the anger evident in every movement.
Her muttering grew quieter, but the irritation in her voice remained. "I was supposed to be planning my wedding with James today, but now I have to deal with this mess."
Hearing her muttering, Andrew cursed back from the adjacent room. "Then take the kid back! I don't want him here!" His voice was loud and sharp, laced with irritation.
Caroline's temper flared as she marched toward him. "Oh, don't you dare, Andrew!" she snapped, pointing a finger at him. "You were the one who insisted you wanted a 'crystallization of love,' even when the doctor said Catherine wasn't suitable for pregnancy! And now she's dead because of it—because of you! And you're blaming the child for it?"
Andrew opened his mouth to speak, but Caroline cut him off, her voice growing louder. "Do you think I wasn't there with you when we went to consult the doctor? Do you think I didn't hear Catherine and my parents begging you to reconsider? You ignored everyone because you couldn't be bothered to listen. And now, you're acting like a scumbag who can't even take care of his own child!"
Her words hung heavy in the air, her piercing gaze fixed on Andrew, daring him to respond.
Andrew, unable to counter her accusations, crossed his arms defensively and spat, "Fine, then! Take the kid back. You're gonna get married anyway—let the old man raise him." His tone was cutting, his words meant to push her away.
Caroline froze for a moment, her eyes narrowing as his words sank in. Then she erupted. "What do you mean by that?" she screeched, her voice echoing through the small house. "Can't they rest in their old age? Do they have to take care of your child because you're too much of a coward to do it yourself?"
She jabbed a finger toward him, her voice trembling with anger. "Man up, Andrew! He's your responsibility! Stop trying to pawn him off on everyone else because you can't handle it!"
Andrew stood there in sullen silence, his jaw tight and his gaze fixed on the floor. He didn't respond, didn't argue—just stayed quiet, his shoulders slumped like a man defeated.
Caroline's patience wore thin as the seconds dragged on. Her voice cut through the tense air like a whip. "Well? Are you just going to stand there? Get moving and find the child, Andrew! He's your son!"
Her glare bore into him, her tone laced with frustration. "You lost him. Now, act like a father for once in your life and fix this mess!"
Still, Andrew didn't say a word. But the weight of her scolding finally spurred him into reluctant action as he shuffled toward the door, muttering something incoherent under his breath.