Chapter 27: Let It Go

He picked up the tea and drank it in one gulp. "Nathaniel," he said, "she is dead. Let it go." As the words left his lips, Zachary realized he'd spoken for the deaf man.

Nathaniel, oblivious, continued reading. Near the end, a call came in. It was Mason, his assistant. "Mr. Rainsworth, I've found where Calvin went." Mason sent the address: a remote town called Sparaville. The name seemed familiar, though Nathaniel couldn't place it.

"What's wrong?" Zachary asked, noticing Nathaniel's prolonged silence.

Nathaniel stood. "I need to go out for a bit. Contact me by phone if anything arises." He grabbed his coat and left without hesitation. Zachary wanted to ask where he was going, but Nathaniel had already departed. Left alone, and weary from a restless night, Zachary decided to sleep.

Early the next morning, Nathaniel arrived in Sparaville. The sky was overcast, the rain steadily intensifying. Mason met him at the car, holding a black umbrella.

"Mr. Rainsworth."

"Mm."

Mason led Nathaniel into the countryside, explaining, "We tracked Calvin's route here. Further investigation revealed Cecilia's nanny lived here when she was young."

Nanny?

In the downpour, Nathaniel's eyes darkened. He remembered why Sparaville sounded familiar. Cecilia had mentioned it repeatedly! During their three-year marriage, on every holiday, she'd anxiously ask, "Nathaniel, I have something to do. Can I go to Sparaville?" He'd always replied coldly, unconcerned with her whereabouts or purpose: "You can go wherever you want. There's no need to report to me." Even so, she always told him. Cecilia rarely went out, but this place was an exception.

They reached a dilapidated brick house. "This is it," Mason said, noticing the locked door. "What's going on?"

Nathaniel gestured to the bodyguards, who forced the door open. "Wait outside," he instructed.

"Yes, sir."

Inside, a wave of dampness and mustiness hit him. Cecilia lived here as a child? Nathaniel frowned, his gaze falling upon a black-and-white photograph on a square table. He picked it up, his expression hardening as he stared.

The photo showed Cecilia, smiling serenely, yet with a profound sadness in her eyes. Nathaniel's grip tightened, then he slammed the photo down. "Very good! Addicted to acting, are we? A memorial photo! What a joke!" He didn't notice the tremor in his voice.

The house—two bedrooms and a living room—was quickly searched. Besides the furniture, it yielded nothing.

Boom! A flash of lightning illuminated the photo.

Nathaniel summoned Mason. "Find out where Cecilia's nanny went."

"Yes, Mr. Rainsworth."

After Mason left, Nathaniel dismissed the bodyguards. He remained alone, waiting for the house's owner to return. The wait stretched into a full day. By afternoon, the rain stopped, and he heard neighbors talking outside.