Chapter 32: Have You Fallen for Her?

Upon hearing their conversation, Mason intervened. He wasn't fond of meddling, but he possessed a keen ability to read people's expressions. Lately, Nathaniel's activities, aside from work, consisted primarily of searching for Cecilia and suppressing Calvin's business. In Mason's opinion, this behavior stemmed from more than just dislike for Cecilia.

Nathaniel's search for Cecilia continued relentlessly. On Christmas Eve, a heavy snow fell. In the past, Cecilia would have joined him at Rainsworth Manor, but this year, he returned alone. Gone was the lively banter he'd exhibited after Cecilia's initial passing; now, he sat mostly in silence, his icy demeanor repelling others. He arrived and departed Daltonia Villa with equal haste. Outside, the pristine snow offered a beautiful contrast, yet he felt a profound sense of emptiness.

He stood before the floor-to-ceiling window, chain-smoking. "Cecilia, you better hope I don't find you!" The door opened behind him. He turned to see his elegantly dressed mother, Elena.

"Nathaniel, what's wrong? Since Cecilia's death, you've become a different person."

Nathaniel remained impassive. Elena, unable to contain her concern, blurted, "Don't tell me you've fallen for Cecilia? But she's gone."

Nathaniel retorted, "As if she's worthy!" Elena attempted to speak further, but Nathaniel brusquely dismissed her. Alone, he drank until unconsciousness. Despite the warmth of the heater, he felt a chilling cold. "Cecilia, Cecilia…" The clock struck twelve.

Awakening from his drunken slumber, he thought he saw Cecilia. He reached out, but she vanished.

Meanwhile, at Seabay Villa, Zachary remained awake, ignoring Stella's incessant calls and texts. He switched off his phone and held the emerald pendant he always carried, his fingers tracing its surface.

Four years later, at Erihal Airport, a striking group—a young woman, a small boy, and an older woman—drew attention. The woman, Cecilia, wore her hair simply pinned up; a hearing aid was visible, and her exquisite beauty held a melancholic depth. Beside her sat a boy of three or four, dressed simply yet elegantly, engrossed in a financial newspaper. Martha, over fifty, sat on the other side.

"It's time, Jon. Listen to Grandma Martha," Cecilia said, gently patting her son's head.

Jonathan Smith, the boy, obediently closed the newspaper, concealing the page about Nathaniel. "I will," he replied gravely. He was barely three, yet possessed a mature demeanor. Cecilia gazed at her son, who strongly resembled Nathaniel, and held him tighter. "Take care of your brother."

Martha patted Cecilia's shoulder. "I will," she reassured her.

Cecilia nodded, wheeled her suitcase onto the plane bound for Tudela.