Chapter 671

The moment I called him “Uncle,” his face crumpled, and he just lost it—tears streaming down his cheeks as he broke down right in front of me.

“He always said Narelle looked like her aunt. Now I see why you and Narelle resemble each other so much,” Mrs. Yule said, stepping out of the kitchen with watery eyes. She came over, gripping my hand like she wasn’t planning to let go.

I pulled them both into a hug. From now on, it’d be the three of us. That was also when I learned their names: Damien and Abby.

I brought them to my parents’ gravesite. Someone—probably Matthew or his family—had left a bouquet of fresh flowers there. The irony wasn’t lost on me. They were the reason my parents were gone, and now they wanted to play the remorse card with flowers? Like that could erase what they did.

My parents wouldn’t forgive them. How could they? They lost everything—their lives, their chance to see me grow up.

Uncle Damien and Aunt Abby stood frozen in front of my mom’s picture, crying like they’d been holding it in for years. Aunt Abby especially—she was full-on sobbing, barely keeping it together.

I knew she wasn’t just seeing my mom. She was seeing Narelle, too. If I looked like Narelle, then Narelle must’ve been the spitting image of my mom. Not just in looks but in something deeper—the way they carried themselves.

Uncle Damien and Aunt Abby asked me to move in with them. I said no. I got where they were coming from—they wanted to give me a real family, a home. But we’d never lived together before, and let’s be real, my life didn’t fit with theirs.

I promised to visit, and they didn’t push it.

Having family again felt good in a way, but there was this heaviness underneath it all, like a weight pressing on my chest. I couldn’t even explain why—it was just there.

That feeling eventually pulled me to Mr. Seth’s bar. I had my own bar now, but I didn’t go there. Instead, I ended up here, lingering until closing time.

When Mr. Seth came over, he asked, “Want some company for a drink?”

“Sure,” I said, glancing at him. “But seriously, why do you look so skinny? You been dieting or what?”

He smiled faintly. “I’ve been crazy busy. Out of nowhere, my bar turned into some social media hotspot. It’s packed every night, and I’m barely keeping up.”

He wasn’t kidding. If I weren’t a regular, there’s no way I’d have gotten a seat tonight.

“You shouldn’t let it wreck your health. Hire more help or something,” I said, trying not to sound as worried as I felt. He looked rough, like he hadn’t slept in days.

He nodded, then clinked his glass against mine. “What’s eating you? Breakup?”

I raised an eyebrow at him. “Is it that obvious?”

“There’s no light in your eyes anymore,” he said, straight-up, and it hit me harder than I expected. He was right. When Hayden left, he took that light with him. There was nothing left now.

“He’s gone,” I muttered, staring into my glass. “Mr. Seth, I miss him so much. What am I supposed to do?”

That weight on my chest wasn’t random—it was Hayden. Missing him so bad it felt like drowning, like I was clutching at air and coming up empty.

Mr. Seth didn’t say a word. He just stayed there, quietly drinking with me.

I downed way too much that night. He tried to make me crash at his place, but I refused. He didn’t push it. Instead, he arranged for a car to take me home, and for once, I didn’t argue. When the car dropped me off at the alleyway, I had to walk the last stretch.

The quiet was eerie, the kind that makes your thoughts louder. As I walked, I suddenly felt it—someone was behind me.

Assuming it was Mr. Seth, I waved without turning. “Mr. Seth, seriously, you don’t need to follow me. I’m good.”

No answer. I stopped and turned around. No one was there.

Huh? Didn’t he follow me? Then…where were those footsteps coming from?

I shook it off. Maybe it was just in my head. But as I kept walking, the sound came again. Footsteps. Light. Deliberate. Steady…