It was 1872. The room was dark, the night quiet, with only the faint glow of the fireplace casting shadows on the walls. Outside, snow blanketed the Hollowborne estate. Inside, a newborn slept peacefully in the cradle, swaddled in soft blankets.
A woman in a white suit sat beside the bed, leaning against the wall, her eyes gentle and attentive. A man stood nearby, looking down at the baby. "Ah… he's so cute," he murmured, a smile tugging at his lips.
The woman glanced at him. The man's gaze shifted to the baby's waist. There, faint but clear, was the familiar ◈ birthmark.
"She has the same mark you have," the woman said softly.
The man's cheeks flushed. "Yeah… he does," he said, his voice warm.
The woman laughed quietly. "It's so cute."
"Stop it," the man said, laughing along, "all our family members have it. My father said even the grandfather did."
"I know, I know," the woman replied with a smile.
He carefully lifted the baby and handed him to her. Sitting beside her, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, holding her close. "Edward Hollowborne," he said softly, almost as if testing the name aloud.
The woman smiled, brushing her hand over the baby's tiny head. "Did you decide?"
"Don't you like it?" he asked.
She hugged the baby close to her chest, her face radiant. "Yes… I love it. Edward Hollowborne… welcome to the world."
Morning came, and the baby slept quietly, swaddled in warmth. The couple rested on the king-size bed beside him. Suddenly, the man noticed her stillness—her breath had stopped. Panic rose in his chest. He checked her frantically, tears brimming, holding her close.
Time passed. The funeral was gray and rainy. The baby cried in the butler's arms as they left the ceremony. The man remained silent, staring at the small bundle, then smiled softly. "You're the only one I have now, Edward," he whispered, holding the child tightly.
By 1885, Edward was playing in the garden of the estate. A large carriage approached, stopping near the gates. Edward had been tossing a ball for the family cat, Lily, when the carriage door opened. Out stepped a boy with silver hair and red eyes—his features didn't match his parents' at all.
Edward straightened, bowing respectfully. "You must be Mr. Ashborne," he said.
The man smiled warmly. The woman beside him nodded, whispering, "What a gentle boy."
"Yes," the man replied. "I am."
Edward's eyes met the new boy's. "I am Edward Hollowborne," he said.
"I am Damian Ashborne. You can call me Dex," the boy said, extending his hand. Edward took it in his, feeling Dex grip much tighter than expected, but he didn't react, just noted it quietly.
From the estate gate, a man called out, "Oh, you've arrived!" Ethan greeted Edward and Mr. Ashborne warmly. The two men embraced briefly as the woman smiled at the scene, her eyes soft. Together, they entered the estate for the Easter celebration.
"Edward, go play with Dex," Ethan said, nodding.
Edward smiled and crouched down to stroke Lily. "She's my family too… her name is Lily," he murmured. Dex eyed the cat sharply. The cat hissed, screeched, and darted toward Edward, who caught her gently.
"What's wrong, Lily?" Edward asked, concern in his voice. Dex's red eyes flicked between him and the cat, petting her cautiously. Lily remained uneasy, running around the garden in nervous circles.
"Let's go to my room," Edward said finally.
"Okay," Dex replied.
Edward led him inside. "This is my room," he said proudly. The room was large and cozy, the kind of place a thirteen-year-old would love. But Dex didn't seem impressed. "How childish," he muttered, arms crossed.
Edward looked at him, raising an eyebrow. "What do you mean by that?"
Dex's expression was flat. "Childish things. You… are still a little child."
Edward smiled lightly. "Yeah, I know. We're the same age. And it's my hobby. I love writing."
Dex sank into the sofa, legs stretched out and one arm resting above the backrest. Edward sat across from him, still smiling. "I noticed… you're different. But I'll do my best to be friends with you, just like our fathers," he said earnestly.
Dex's lips twitched into a small smirk, though his eyes remained sharp. What does he think he's doing? he thought. A foolish little child trying to be my friend…