CHAPTER 107: The Weight of the Past

　　The car ride to the bar man's mansion was silent, each passing moment thick with tension. John sat staring out the window and a swirl of conflicting emotions clouding his thoughts. Rachel sat beside him, her hands clenched tightly on her lap with her eyes betraying her inner turmoil. The soft hum of the engine and the rhythmic click of the turning wheels were the only sounds that filled the air. Neither of them dared to speak, each preoccupied with memories they'd rather forget.

　　As they pulled into the grand driveway, John and Rachel couldn't help but stare. The mansion before them was massive, with high, arched windows that gleamed under the moonlight and intricate stonework that lined the walls. The house was a far cry from the life they'd been living recently, reminding them painfully of what they had lost. It was almost surreal, as if they'd stepped back into a life they had once known, a life that now seemed like a distant dream.