Chapter 5 – Shadows of the Past

Charles's grip on the door tightened, his body instinctively moving to shield Alicia from the stranger's gaze. The man in the dark suit smirked slightly, his sharp blue eyes glinting with amusement.

"It's been a long time, hasn't it, Mr. White?"

Charles's jaw clenched. He had spent years keeping his past buried, ensuring that no one from his old life could reach him or Alicia. But now, standing on his doorstep, was a ghost from the very life he had tried to escape.

"I asked you—who are you?" Charles's voice was low and controlled, but there was an underlying edge of danger.

The man adjusted his hat, his smirk deepening. "I go by many names, but you may call me Mr. Black. I represent someone who is… quite interested in you."

Charles's eyes darkened. "I have nothing to do with my past anymore."

Mr. Black chuckled, stepping forward slightly, but Charles blocked his path. The air between them grew tense.

"See, that's the thing, Mr. White," the man said smoothly. "The past has a funny way of catching up. And you, my friend, have a debt that needs settling."

Alicia clutched onto Charles's sleeve. "Papa…?"

Her small voice made Charles's heart ache.

She shouldn't be witnessing this.

She shouldn't be involved in any of it.

Taking a deep breath, Charles crouched down to Alicia's level, keeping his eyes locked on the stranger. "Sweetheart, go inside. I need to talk to this man alone."

"But—"

"Now, Alicia." His voice was firm but gentle.

Alicia hesitated before nodding and scurrying back into the cabin, closing the door behind her.

Charles straightened, his dark eyes filled with cold fury. "I don't know who sent you, but you can tell them that part of my life is over. I don't owe anyone anything."

Mr. Black raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And what about Dorothy?"

Charles's entire body stiffened.

The name hit him like a punch to the gut.

Mr. Black tilted his head. "You think you know the whole story, don't you?" He sighed dramatically. "You've been running, hiding, but you never asked the right questions."

Charles's hands clenched into fists. "Get to the point."

Mr. Black leaned in slightly. "What if I told you… that Dorothy didn't just die? That she was taken."

The words sent a chill down Charles's spine. His heart pounded against his ribs.

"Liar."

Mr. Black smirked. "Oh, I expected you to say that. But deep down… you've always felt it, haven't you? That something didn't add up. That the story you were told wasn't the full truth."

Charles's breathing became uneven.

Dorothy… taken?

It couldn't be true.

Could it?

He had spent years convincing himself that she was just… gone. That life had cruelly stolen her from him.

But now, doubt crept in.

Mr. Black took a step back, sensing the conflict in Charles's eyes. "I'll leave you to think about it. But don't take too long—your past is knocking, and it won't wait forever."

With that, he turned and walked away, disappearing into the early morning mist.

Charles stood frozen, his thoughts a whirlwind of emotions.

Dorothy was taken?

What did that mean?

And if it was true…

Then who had taken her?

And why?