Chapter 10 – Fading Light

The sky above the hotel garden was beginning to dim, painted in soft streaks of lavender and rose. A gentle breeze stirred the leaves, sending a few fluttering down over the cushioned seats where Amelia sat. She pulled her shawl closer around her shoulders, her eyes never leaving the playground just beyond the patio glass doors.

Janet's laughter rang out first, high and carefree, followed by Jeremy's quieter but cheerful voice. The twins had begged her to let them play a little longer, promising they'd be careful and stay within the garden's low iron fence. Amelia had agreed, needing a moment to herself. The day had been long, and the weight of returning to London pressed heavily on her chest.

She reached for her teacup, now lukewarm, and glanced again at the children.

From her seat on the outdoor patio of the hotel's restaurant, she could just make out the shadowy outlines of the two small figures darting between the trees and the colorful jungle gym. Janet's pink dress fluttered like a flag as she ran ahead of her brother. Jeremy, ever the focused one, had his sketchpad tucked under one arm and was now climbing up the small slide, holding on to the side rails carefully.

The garden lights had not yet come on, and the deepening twilight made everything blur together—branches, leaves, and little feet.

She sighed.

London evenings were cooler than she remembered.

She turned her gaze briefly to the flickering candle on the center of her table. The soft flame swayed slightly with the wind, and in that moment, a small figure appeared by her side.

She blinked, caught off guard.

"Jeremy?" she asked softly, looking down at the boy standing quietly a few feet from her.

He didn't answer. The child had dark curls, large eyes, and was dressed in a light blue shirt and khaki trousers—just like Jeremy had been earlier. But something was… off. His face was still, his expression blank but not unfriendly.

Amelia leaned forward slightly. "Where's your sister?" she asked, her voice gentle, assuming he might have come back to report something.

The boy said nothing. He just stared at her, lips parted as though trying to find the words but not quite sure how to say them. His eyes held a sort of calm innocence, the kind only children seemed to carry. She noticed then that he had a tiny leaf stuck in his hair.

Behind them, the shrill sound of Janet's voice interrupted the silence. "Jeremy! Don't run off like that!"

Janet rushed toward them, panting slightly as she reached the table. Her hair was a bit messy from running, and her cheeks were flushed with energy.

Then she stopped.

She looked at the boy standing beside her mother… and frowned.

"Oh," she murmured, tilting her head. "You're not Jeremy."

Before Amelia could say anything, a voice called from the garden entrance. Deep, firm, and unmistakably male.

"Peter!"

The little boy flinched, then turned toward the sound. The moment his eyes met the direction of the voice, his face lit up in recognition. Without another word, he dashed off across the patio and down the steps toward a man standing near the path—tall, well-dressed, and half-hidden in the evening fog.

Amelia followed the child's movement with her eyes, unsure of what had just happened. The man knelt to greet the boy, ruffling his curls and guiding him back toward the far side of the hotel.

She exhaled, almost amused. Just a mix-up.

"Come on," she said, standing and brushing off her shawl. "Let's go check on your brother. It's getting late."

Janet still stared in the direction the boy had gone, a slight wrinkle on her forehead. "They look the same from far, Mommy," she said as she grabbed Amelia's hand. "But Jeremy's eyes are brighter. And he talks a lot more."

Amelia smiled. "You mean you talk more."

Janet giggled, shrugging her shoulders. "Maybe."

They reached Jeremy moments later, who was still sitting under the slide, sketching furiously in his notebook with a crayon. His tongue peeked from the side of his mouth in concentration, and his brows were drawn together.

"Mommy," he said without looking up, "I'm drawing the sky."

"Oh?" Amelia crouched beside him, glancing at the page. He had captured the streaks of purple and orange with impressive skill for his age. Even the tall outline of the garden trees had been sketched in with soft edges.

"It's beautiful," she said truthfully.

Janet peeked over her brother's shoulder. "Add the little boy who came to Mommy!"

"What boy?" Jeremy looked up now, curious.

Amelia shook her head gently. "Just someone who looked like you, that's all. He's gone now."

Jeremy gave a small nod, unconcerned, and went back to his sketching.

As Amelia stood and watched her children, she felt a strange stillness settle over her. It wasn't fear. It wasn't suspicion. It was simply… quiet. A moment carved out of the chaos of life where nothing made sense, and yet everything felt peaceful.

The lights in the garden finally came on, casting a golden hue over the playground. Jeremy closed his sketchpad and stood up, dusting off his trousers.

"Can we go inside now?" he asked.

Amelia nodded. "Yes, let's go."

She reached for both of their hands and walked them slowly back toward the hotel. The restaurant was now glowing warmly from within, staff beginning to prepare for the evening guests.

As they reached the doors, Janet looked back one last time at the path where the boy had run.

"I think his name was Peter," she said quietly.

"Maybe," Amelia replied. "But he's gone now."

And with that, they stepped inside, unaware of the eyes still watching them from beyond the trees.