She hadn’t thought about that night in years. The rain. The screaming.
The decision they swore never to speak of again. And now, a girl shows up in her home wearing that necklace. She gripped the counter, fighting to stay upright.
Downstairs, Chase was completely unaware. He was too busy watching Jader laugh, softly, nervously, as she recounted a story about one of her coding students accidentally triggering a robot to spin in circles. «It wouldn’t stop,» she said with a grin.
«We had to unplug the whole panel.» Robert chuckled politely, but his mind was spinning. He had seen that necklace before.
In a hospital. Wrapped in a blood-soaked blanket. Suddenly, footsteps echoed from the hall.
Catherine returned, calm and cold as porcelain. She took her seat with a tight smile. «Sorry.»
«Just needed to check a message.» «Everything okay?» Chase asked. «Of course,» she said.
But then, she turned to Jader and asked flatly, «Have you ever tried to trace your birth parents?» Jader’s face dropped. She hesitated. «I used to,» she whispered.
«But I stopped when someone warned me to let it go.» There was a silence so thick Chase could feel it pressing against his ribs. «Someone warned you,» he repeated, leaning in.
Jader nodded. «Yeah. It was about three years ago.»
«I filed a request for non-identifying records. The next week, I got a typed note in the mail. No return address.»
«Just one sentence.» «What did it say?» Robert asked, his voice low. Jader glanced between them.
«It said, ‘Stop digging. Some graves are sealed for a reason.'»
Catherine’s knuckles turned white around her wine glass. «And you just stopped?» she asked, trying to sound casual. «I was 15.»
«It scared me. I figured maybe my parents were dangerous. Or powerful.»..
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