"Mom … please, please save me. Save me! I don't want to die yet."
Clara cried in panic, as though the hope of her life were hanging by a thin string —one that could snap at any moment.
Charlotte tried to rush forward to her, desperate to pull her daughter back into her arms, but her sons held her back.
"Mom, please ... calm down," Liam said, his voice edged with anxiety. "You will just scare her more, pushing her more into danger."
Charlotte's fingers dug deeper into her son's arm as she shook her head frantically. "No … no danger. I found her after so many years. I have just gotten her back, and I can't even bear the thought of losing her again."
Liam took in the helpless fear on his mother's face and wrapped his arms around her, steadying her trembling frame. "We are not losing her, Mom."
He glanced back towards Clara and said, "She is our sister, and we are going to protect her. We will take her home safely."
Charlotte nodded, clinging to his reassurance.
From her other side, Bryer added firmly, "Yes, Mom. Please don't panic now."
She turned to him, and Bryer met her gaze with a brief nod before looking toward his sister, who was tied to a chair, tears streaking down her cheeks.
"We are here for her," he said, but then, realizing something, his gaze shifted to the side. A subtle frown appeared between his shaped brows, and he rectified his words. "We won't let anything happen to them."
Them.
Charlotte froze.
Not because she was surprised —but because she realized how conveniently she had forgotten something.
It wasn't just Clara.
Adelyn was there too.
"Adelyn …" Charlotte breathed, guilt crashing over her like a wave. Her eyes finally shifted to the chair beside Clara's.
There, bound the same way, sat her other daughter.
Yet the contrast between them was striking.
Unlike Clara, Adelyn appeared almost immune to the situation, as though fear had never touched her. Her expression held strange indifference … a quiet finality. As if she had already made a decision and accepted its outcome.
An odd unease crept into Charlotte's heart, one she couldn't quite name. Unable to understand it, she assumed Adelyn was simply confident —confident that her family would save them.
Right, she must be confident. After all, in all these years, Adelyn knew them the best. She was closest to them. All of them.
Her lips curved faintly, pride softening her guilt.
"Adelyn, sweetheart, don't worry. Your mother and brothers are here. We won't let anything happen to you or Clara. We will all leave this place together. Okay?"
Adelyn didn't hum.
She didn't respond.
She only stared at the woman —straight into her eyes —with a gaze devoid of warmth, of emotion … of anything that might have made her look human.
That cold, indifferent look made Charlotte falter. Her brows knit together as she tried to read her daughter's expression —but failed.
Before she could try again, Clara's sob broke through the silence once again, reclaiming all her attention.
"Mom!" Clara bit down on her trembling lip. "It seems I just don't carry the luck of having a family."
"Clara," Charlotte frowned sharply, not liking her choice of words. "What an absurd thing to say? We are your family."
Looking utterly hopeless, Clara shook her head. "No. I was never meant to be, and that's why I separated from you all from the first day of my life. And that's why I am also here today. I —"
"Clara, that's enough." Liam interrupted, his brows drawn tight. "I asked you not to panic. Trust us. Trust your brothers. You are our sister —meant to be cherished."
Clara's tears only fell harder.
Before she could speak again, mocking laughter echoed through the room.
"Born to be cherished … haha. Interesting."
Liam turned sharply.
A man walked in, a mask covering his face.
The way the men surrounding them straightened instantly revealed the truth —this was no ordinary figure. He was the mastermind. The one everyone had been waiting for.
"Who are you?" Bryer demanded, his brows furrowing.
The man ignored him. His gaze slid instead toward the two women bound to the chairs, lingering for a brief second longer on Adelyn.
It would have even persisted longer …
But the moment Adelyn lifted her eyes to meet his, he looked away —as though his attention on her was not meant to be realized by anyone. Not even by her.
"I asked you something," Bryer roared. "Who are you, and why have you —"
"Shhh!!"
The man raised a finger to his lips.
The air itself seemed to still at his order.
A chill ran down the Scott brothers' spines. Charlotte flinched, and Clara squeezed her eyes shut in terror.
"I never said I owed you an answer," the man said calmly, a smile curling his lips. Yet his gaze was cold —provocative.
Bryer stepped forward, fury tightening his fists, but Liam caught his arm and pulled him back. Their eyes met, and Liam gave a subtle shake of his head.
The man noticed, and his smile only deepened.
"Be an obedient little brother and listen to your older one," he mocked. "He is guiding you well. Patience is one thing I lack —and your attitude just tested it. I might not give you the chance you all gathered here for."
Bryer's fingers clenched painfully.
"Bryer," Charlotte whispered, patting his arm, her voice trembling. "Listen to your brother. Clara and Adelyn aren't safe. Only cooperating with him will keep them that way."
To her, right now, nothing else mattered. She just wanted her daughters to be safe and by her side.
She then turned back to look at her daughters.
Adelyn remained eerily calm.
Clara, however, looked utterly shattered.
"Clara," Charlotte coaxed softly. "Don't be scared. We are here."
Clara nodded weakly through her tears, as if forcing herself to believe it.
Liam looked at his sister one last time before turning back to the masked man. "What do you want?" he asked.