Ever since my parents started leaving me behind to fly to America… to see my brother—my step-brother, Faelan Abram— I felt like I was never part of the family. A shadow at the edge of my own family portrait.
And now that I know Valentine Devian is my real father… the distance feels even bigger. Something in me splits, because despite everything, a part of my heart still recognizes him, still feels something cruel and confusing—empathy.
He held my hand, the knife trembling between us, its point angled at himself."I do not deserve to live," he whispered, voice breaking like glass. "I have sinned. My whole life is a sin. I'm sorry… you came from my own sin. But I can't kill you. Your mother loved you—not because I am your biological father, but because she raised you out of love, not pity."
His words pierced deeper than any blade. I felt my mind slipping, drowning in emotions I couldn't name, couldn't tame.
"Be cautious," he said.
My brows tightened. "What?"
"Once I'm gone, I can no longer protect you." The apprehension that had been slowly building suddenly sharpened, a knife twisting inside my chest. More? There's more behind all of this?
"From who?" My voice cracked—impatience, fear, frustration all chewing at me.
He reached into his pocket and pressed a small key into my palm."Go to my office tomorrow. In the closet, there's a safe. This key unlocks the closet. The code… is your birth date."
His voice grew raspy, each breath wet with blood. His explanations were fragments, scattered pieces of a puzzle he never finished. And I—confused, furious—couldn't assemble any of it.
"Protect your name… protect your family and friends… do not give up being an Abram."He swallowed hard. "I loved your mother—"
…
The curtains swayed like slow-breathing lungs, billowing with the cold wind slipping through the cracked window.
Then, as his last word faded, the fabric stilled. His chest fell… and didn't rise again.
"Felix!" I hadn't even noticed Kyoi had woken."I'm sorry," I muttered, voice barely human.
He froze. Seeing me holding a dead body…Seeing him.
"We should—bury him," he whispered, gently patting my shoulder, grounding me.I nodded.
...
I called Mr. Lim and told him everything—who Devian truly was, what had happened. He was stunned, shaken, unable to grasp the truth as it unfolded in front of him.
We buried Devian beside a tree—a quiet place where I used to read alone, where peace felt possible, where my nightmares loosened their grip on me. I hoped… maybe his burden would dissolve here too.
But inside me, confusion clawed relentlessly.Loved mother—why?He raped her.Did he pity her?Did he regret it?Did he convince himself he loved her?
I don't know the truth.I don't know if I ever will.