Chapter 2: Whispers of the Past

The candle flickered against the cold night air, its small flame barely illuminating the worn wooden walls of Evelyne's rented room. She sat at the edge of her bed, staring at the parchment in her hands, reading it over and over until the words blurred.

"Your parents' deaths were no accident. Seek the man with storm-gray eyes."

She had told herself she wouldn't cry. But her fingers trembled as she clutched the letter.

A thousand questions stormed through her mind. Who sent this? How did they know about her parents' deaths? And more importantly—why now?

Twelve years. Twelve years of silence.

No one had ever spoken about what really happened. No one questioned it. The village whispered that her parents had died tragically, but details were scarce. And she—she had been a child, too young to remember everything.

At least, that's what they had told her.

But deep down, she had always known there was more. The gaps in her memory weren't natural. When she tried to recall that night, all she got were fragments—a stormy sky, the heavy scent of rain, her mother's voice calling her name, a shadow moving through the darkness.

And now, a stranger had reopened those wounds with a single letter.

Evelyne exhaled sharply, trying to steady herself.

Then, she thought of the man from earlier—the one with storm-gray eyes.

Phileo.

She had only caught a glimpse of him in the marketplace, but something about him unsettled her. The way he moved, like he was avoiding attention. The way he looked at her—like he knew her.

Could it really be him?

She stood abruptly, walking to the small wooden desk near the window. She lit another candle and pulled out a worn leather book, flipping through its pages until she found an old, pressed flower. It had once been a vibrant shade of blue, but time had drained its color.

It had been a gift. She didn't remember who gave it to her, but she had kept it all these years.

Her fingers brushed over the petals.

She hated not knowing. She hated feeling like a stranger to her own past.

Her parents had died, and she had moved on because that was what she was told to do. But now… now, she had a chance to learn the truth.

And she would take it.

Determination burned in her chest as she folded the letter and tucked it into her satchel. She wasn't going to let this mystery consume her without a fight.

If Phileo held the answers, then she would find him.

Even if it meant unraveling everything she thought she knew.