Chapter 6

A sleek black Porsche halted under the streetlights as Reinhardt approached.

He slid the door open and saw Bertolt already in the front seat, hands folded.

“When did Nancy wake from the coma?” Reinhardt asked, glancing out the window. The moonlight bathed Seattle’s skyline.

“Tonight,” Bertolt replied. “The hospital called. She kept mumbling your name… and Uncle Leif’s. She wants to see you first.”

Reinhardt’s eyes widened. “Of course. If anyone knows the origin of the curse and how Father died… it’s Nancy. We still don’t know what caused her coma.”

He suddenly remembered. “Where’s her daughter, Ursula?”

“She’s at the hospital. She was the one who called me,” Bertolt answered.

Bertolt’s voice dropped slightly. “And… there’s something else I need to report. You might not have time after seeing Nancy.”

“What is it?”

“The Belltown packs… they’re growing restless again. I need your permission to act.”

Reinhardt waved his hand dismissively. “Let them be for now. We have more pressing matters. They’re weak. Weak.”

“Reinhardt, the Belltown packs are getting stronger… you’ve been too busy to notice them,” Bertolt shot back.

“Bertolt, I always tell you not to be rash. Quite rash. Erasing this curse is far more important than a territorial struggle with the Belltown packs,” Reinhardt said, his tone calm but firm.

“We still hold the cards. They dance to our tunes, and we control the politics and the Wolf gems within this entire territory. There’s no need to react. Not every move your enemy makes requires a mirror,” Reinhardt continued.

“They’re trying to see how disturbed we are. They’ve noticed our two strongest Alphas died within two years. They expect us to be agitated. But if we don’t respond, Bertolt… they’ll be confused,” Reinhardt explained, his scarlet eyes still fix outside the window.

Bertolt went silent. He thought of Reinhardt as the one Alpha truly fit to lead. What if Reinhardt dies? How would he protect the packs? He couldn’t even imagine it.

It wasn’t long after that their Porsche rolled through the massive gates of the family hospital.

The Schmidts always kept their affairs separate, and of course, their health came first. One might imagine a hospital this large would serve the public but no. It existed solely for the Schmidt family. Only a handful of scientists, granted special permission to run research labs, were allowed on the premises. No one else ever set foot there.

Reinhardt pushed the doors open, not even waiting for Bertolt to step out first. He needed to see Nancy immediately. Eight years had passed since he last saw her, and he wanted answers.

Nancy was Uncle Leif’s widow and Ursula’s mother. She had suffered a mysterious trauma. She found on the staircase with a blunt wound to the side of her head. Doctors had doubted she would ever come around, and some had even tried to persuade Ursula to remove her from life support. But Ursula refused. And now… she was awake.

The automatic doors slid open with a soft whoosh, and Reinhardt strode into the hospital lobby, Bertolt close at his side. The air was sterile, tinged with antiseptic, too silent to be called a hospital. Nurses glanced at him briefly, eyes widening for a fraction of a second. Reinhardt was one of the family members rarely seen in the hospital. It was as if he were never sick, immune to the maladies.

His stride and gait exudes an air of insouciance. Whispers seem to replace the silence that once dominated the room.

Ursula stood in the corner with her brother, Johannes, a Ten-year-old Schmidt. Nancy's son. He was two years old when Nancy last saw him. It is natural for Nancy to not recognise him. Johannes wouldn't even know her as mother.

“Hey, Johannes,” Reinhardt said, reaching down to scoop the boy up.

“Reinhardt! You haven’t come to play with me all these days,” Johannes exclaimed, hugging his cousin tightly.

“Sorry, Johannes. Your brother has been busy,” Reinhardt replied, brushing a hand through the boy’s lush black hair.

All around, eyes followed the family quietly.

“Nancy is awake,” Ursula whispered, tugging on Reinhardt’s jacket, tears glistening in her eyes. “She keeps saying your name… and Dad’s. I couldn’t bring myself to tell her he’s… gone.”

“Don’t cry,” Reinhardt murmured, glancing down at Johannes. “Johannes is here.”

“Ursula, can we see Nancy now?” Bertolt asked, stepping forward.

“Yes… but she doesn’t seem to remember anything of substance,” Ursula said, looking away as if hiding her frustration.

“Perhaps she will… when she sees me,” Reinhardt said, already walking toward Nancy’s room. He looks impatient.

Bertolt flanked Reinhardt immediately, leaving Ursula and little Johannes behind in the lobby.

As they approached the room, Reinhardt caught a faint trace of a familiar scent permeating the air.

“That can’t be… she’s at home. She can’t be here,” he muttered, eyes darting across the hospital hall.

“Bertolt, do you smell anything? Any scent?”

“No… nothing. Is something wrong?” Bertolt asked, alerted by the intensity in Reinhardt’s gaze.

“Maybe I’m imagining it,” Reinhardt replied, trying to dismiss the premonition. It’s probably just because I was with her a few moments ago, he thought. Perhaps he was becoming more attached to Lisa than he realized.

The door opened.

Nancy lay on the bed, seemingly asleep. As Reinhardt and Bertolt stepped in, her eyes fluttered open.

“Reinhardt… is that you?” Her voice cracked, totally different from the sweet voice she had eight years ago.

“It’s me, Aunt Nancy. Bertolt is here too,” Reinhardt said gently.

“Bertolt? Who is that?” Nancy asked, her gaze shifting to Bertolt.

“He’s my brother… your nephew. You know him,” Reinhardt said, keeping his tone neutral, aware of her amnesia. Why she remembered him and not anyone else remained a mystery.

“Where is Leif… my husband?” Nancy asked, dismissing Reinhardt’s reply to her question.

Reinhardt hesitated, not wanting to worsen her already pale state. “Ehmm… ehmm…” He wasn’t sure if it was the right moment to tell her Leif had died.

“Leif is in Japan. He’ll be back soon,he left Reinhardt in charge,” Bertolt broke the silence.

“Oh… is that so? I thought he… would die,” Nancy said with a look of relief, then her gaze now fixed on Reinhardt. “Reinhardt… there’s something I need to tell you about your father.”

She hesitated, frustration writen all over her face. “That space… it’s somehow empty. I want to say it, but I can’t remember.”

At that moment, Reinhardt reached out to hug her. Her eyes caught the mark on his wrist.

“Yes! Reinhardt, Reinhardt, that mark… the curse! Your father was...” Nancy’s excitement was palpable as she struggled to recall the memory.

“Tell me, Aunt Nancy… what is it?” Reinhardt prompted gently.

“I… I can’t fill the hole,” she admitted, tears welling in her eyes. “I know it has to do with that mark. I wanted to tell Leif, but something… someone… I can’t remember. I can’t fill the hole.”

Nancy wept quietly, confronted with her own forgetfulness.

“Nancy, don’t worry. We’ll figure it out. Perhaps you need some rest,” Reinhardt assured her, patting her back gently.

She reached up, cupping his face in her hands. “Reinhardt… you’ve grown so big,”

Reinhardt and Bertolt left the hospital parking lot. Johannes and Ursula wanted to stay with Nancy, so they would sleep over.

But Reinhardt couldn’t shake the scent lingering in his mind.

I’ve never mistaken a scent before… but why would she be here? His eyes narrowed as the view of the hospital thinned out.

Bertolt noticed his brother’s distraction. “Something’s wrong?” he said quietly, keeping his tone neutral.

Reinhardt stayed silent. This is getting troublesome.