Chapter 16
Cassian spent his days holed up in Thalia’s home, drowning his heartbreak in endless bottles of alcohol. Then one fateful night, amid his drunken haze, he thought he saw her–Thalia–standing there as if she’d never
left.
But the moment her eyes met his, her figure stiffened. Without a word, she turned and walked away. A jolt of panic shot through him, cold and sharp. He lurched after her, desperate and unsteady, calling out her name. Yet, no matter how fast he ran, she slipped further and further out of reach, like a shadow dissolving into the night.
Again and again, he reached for her, only to come up empty. After what felt like a thousand futile attempts, the weight of his
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grief crushed him entirely.
“Thalia, please!” he cried out, his voice breaking into uneven sobs. “Don’t leave! I’ll do anything–anything! Just come back… please…”
Tears blurred his already unsteady vision, but he thought he saw her again–a fleeting, ghostly shadow in the pale moonlight. Heart pounding, he stumbled forward, his hand trembling as he stretched it out toward her. “Please, don’t go…”
But then, she vanished. Just like that, her figure dissolved into nothingness, like mist unraveling in the breeze. Cassian’s balance wavered, and before he realized it, his body tipped over the edge of the balcony.
The next morning, the servants found him. unconscious in the grass below, his lips still
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murmuring Thalia’s name. Blood stained the green, and though they acted quickly, calling the family doctor, the damage was already severe. Rushed to the hospital, it was discovered both of his legs were badly injured–an injury that might leave him scarred for life.
At his bedside, his mother clutched his hand, tears streaming down her face like rivers. His father, by contrast, wore a mask of cold fury. “Cassian,” he snapped, practically spitting the words, “it’s just one woman. Do you have to be this irrational?”
Cassian lay unmoving, pale as a ghost, his eyes shut as if he hadn’t heard a word. Frustrated, his father sneered, lips curling into a disdainful grimace. “If it hadn’t been for the grass breaking your fall and the servants finding you in time, you’d be dead right now. Just think about how disgraceful.
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that would’ve been for the family.”
His mother began to sob even harder. “Cassian, my son, listen to your mother,” she begged, her voice trembling. “Don’t go back to the Moreau Family home. Ever since Thalia came into our lives, we’ve had nothing but misfortune. First you failed to keep her, and now look at everything that’s happened. Let her go, son. Just let her go…
”
But Cassian’s body, tightly wrapped in bandages, stirred at those words. Slowly, his eyes opened. Their dark gaze, now glassy and bloodshot, pinned his mother in place. “Mom,” he said, his voice low and hoarse, “Thalia isn’t dead. She’s alive. She’s out there -I know it. She just… she just doesn’t want to see me.”
The room fell into a stunned silence as a twisted grimace formed on his pale face.
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“Thalia,” he whispered, as though she could somehow hear him. “What do I have to do for you to come back to me?”
In the weeks that followed, rumors about haunting whispers and dark shadows at the Wynn Family manor began to spread. Some claimed the house was cursed. But for Callum Wynn, those whispers only further consumed him.
He couldn’t keep himself from stepping into Thalia’s room, as though being surrounded by her belongings could fill the void she had left behind. Every glance at the familiar furniture and trinkets sent a flood of bittersweet memories rushing through him. More often than not, tears filled his eyes. They came unbidden, unstoppable, and each drop was a part of his soul slowly unraveling.
Even during his treatments for his frail body,
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Callum often mumbled incoherently. One day, he murmured softly to himself, “Thalia… Cassian swore he saw you. If it’s true, can’t you show yourself to me too? Just once. Just one more time…”
His shoulders shook, his expression contorting with anguish. “…But Thalia,” he continued, voice cracking, “I should’ve seen it sooner. If you really were alive, and you saw what’s become of us, you wouldn’t… you couldn’t be this heartless. You would’ve come back.”
Yet he faltered, his words catching in his throat, the weight of his grief too much to bear. He buried his face in his hands, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Thalia… I’d rather have you be cruel and refuse to see me than to know you’re… gone.”
That night, in a fragile attempt to feel close
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to her, Callum did what Cassian had done before–he locked himself in Thalia’s old room and wallowed in alcohol. He drank until the edges of the world blurred and collapsed to the floor in a pitiful heap. Yet when he awoke, nothing had changed. She wasn’t there. The room was as empty as it ever was. Reality tore through him like blades.
Overcome by despair, he screamed into the void, his voice raw and ragged, “Why would you show yourself to Cassian but not to me? Do you hate me that much, Thalia? Is that what this is?! Do you hate me?!”
His outburst left the servants–or what few of them remained–in complete disbelief. Many abandoned the desolate mansion, leaving only the ailing Seraphim and haunted Callum to maintain the illusion of life within the otherwise dead Wynn estate.
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One day, someone captured footage of Callum’s grief–fueled breakdown and uploaded it online. Rather than garnering sympathy, the video drew nothing but ridicule. “Probably just karma,” one comment read. “Serves them right!”
Meanwhile, after Cassian’s attempt on his life, the Moreau Family had him placed under strict confinement in the hospital. Visits were rare, but Callum managed to see him.
Sitting at Cassian’s bedside, Callum studied his fragile, broken figure for a long moment. At last, he spoke softly. “Cassian… No matter how hard we wish for it, it’s nearly impossible to find someone if they don’t want to be found. But Thalia… Perhaps she’s not alive anymore.”
The words struck Cassian like an electric shock. Anger flared in his chest, and with a
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single, swift motion, he swung his fist into Callum’s jaw. “Shut up!” Cassian roared, his voice full of rage and unyielding emotion. “She’s alive! She’s out there! She’d never leave us–not like this!”
Callum staggered back, his hand brushing against the swelling spot on his face. He exhaled shakily, his grief reflected in his bloodshot eyes. “I wish that were true,” he whispered, his voice hollow. “But Cassian… if she knew, if she really knew we were still searching for her, why would she let us suffer like this? She’s too soft–hearted. It’s been over a year. Do you really think she would…”
His words trailed off as his body trembled under the weight of his sorrow. A bittersweet, pained smile barely touched his lips as he turned to leave. “I wish this pain would give us answers. God knows I do.”
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Cassian was left in silence, the echoes of Callum’s words reverberating in his mind. Alone, he lay in his bed, tears streaking down his face once again as despair wrapped around him like a shroud.
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