Chapter 20
Samuel’s grip on reality had long since eroded, drowned by a relentless sea of despair. When the caller casually mumbled a random address during their call, Samuel let out a bitter laugh and hung up. Of course it was fake. Of course they lied.
But he didn’t have the energy—or will—to do anything about it.
From that day on, the calls multiplied. One after another, strangers claimed to have seen Emily and demanded money in exchange for information. Deep down, Samuel knew they were all con artists. Still, he paid every single one of them. Not because he believed them—but because even the smallest flicker of hope was better than nothing.
Each transaction was money thrown into a void. But Samuel didn’t care. He wasn’t living anymore—he was *enduring*, clinging to the edge of a dream where Emily might still come back.
Some callers asked to meet him in person. When he agreed, women dressed provocatively would show up at restaurants and hotel lobbies.
“We have plenty of friends, Mr. Porter,” one said with a sly smile. “If you’re lonely, we’d be happy to keep you company.”
Escorts. Courtesans. Opportunists. He didn’t bother being polite. “Get lost.”
Eventually, the calls stopped. Even the scammers gave up. And then—nothing. His phone, once constantly ringing, now sat in complete silence. Even quieter than he was.
A month passed.
One afternoon, the household staff grew concerned. Samuel hadn’t left his bedroom all day. He hadn’t even barked at them to stop knocking. That alone was unusual. With growing anxiety, they pushed the door open—and gasped.
Samuel was lying unconscious on the floor, sprawled across the rug like a broken doll. His skin was pale, his breathing shallow. They immediately called for an ambulance.
Fred and Nora looked like they had aged ten years in one week as they stood outside the emergency room. Both were gaunt and pale, barely holding themselves together.
When the doctor finally emerged, his expression was grave. “He collapsed from severe dehydration and malnutrition,” the doctor explained. “Physically, we’ve stabilized him—but his mental condition is deteriorating fast. He's showing signs of a complete psychological breakdown.” The doctor hesitated before adding, “If he doesn’t receive psychiatric care soon… he may begin to harbor thoughts of self-harm.”
Nora’s knees gave way. She fainted right there in the corridor. Fred barely caught her in time, his own heart racing and heavy. But he couldn’t afford to break down now—not when his family needed him most.
Once Nora was settled and Samuel was moved to a private room, Fred recorded a video message from Samuel’s bedside. His face, once strong and confident, now bore deep lines of worry. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he looked into the camera and begged: “Emily… if you’re out there, please… please come back. If not for me or Nora… then for Samuel. He’s falling apart. Please… help him. Save his life. Just come back…”
Far across the ocean, in the quiet country of **Verusa**, Emily knew nothing of what was happening. She had cut off all contact—burned every bridge. That included Samuel, his company, and everything connected to her past life. She now lived in a tiny wooden cottage nestled at the edge of a snowy forest. In winter, the townsfolk stayed in their homes, sipping warm drinks and watching the snow from behind foggy windows. Emily had adopted the same rhythm. She placed her easel beside the large window and quietly sketched the winter landscape outside. A warm mug of freshly brewed coffee sat beside her—beans ground by hand. At her feet, a small kitten purred contentedly, batting at her hem until she gave it attention. The kitten was always clingy, always asking to be held.
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Just then, a knock came at the door. She scooped the kitten into her arms and opened the door to find her landlady, **Lisa**, standing there.
“This little guy’s way too clingy,” Emily said with a smile. “I had to bring him with me.”
Lisa chuckled and held up a small paper bag. “I made cookies. Thought I’d share a few with you.”
“Thanks,” Emily said, stepping aside to let her in and pouring a cup of coffee for Lisa, too.
Winters in Verusa were long and uneventful. The townspeople often visited one another simply to pass the time. Though Emily had only been here for a month, she and Lisa had become fast friends.
They sat together, sipping coffee, enjoying the stillness. Then Lisa gently brought something up.
“Aria… I came across a video online,” she said slowly. “It was an apology. A man was asking for forgiveness—and sharing a missing person notice. The photo looked a lot like you. It even had contact details.”
Emily didn’t react visibly. Lisa had already noticed that she rarely used the internet.
“I was just wondering… have you seen it?”
Emily smiled calmly. “What a coincidence. But I have a pretty common face. It’s not surprising if there’s someone out there who looks like me.”
It was a polite denial.
Lisa stared at her. Emily’s beauty wasn’t “common” in the slightest—but she didn’t push the matter.
Instead, she added carefully, “His parents posted a video too. They said he’s in critical condition. That his life… is hanging by a thread.”
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