MasukThe first notification appeared just after sunrise. Evelyn had barely finished her coffee when her assistant’s voice broke through the quiet of the estate. “Ma’am… you need to see this.” Evelyn looked up from the tablet resting on her desk. “What happened?” Her assistant stepped forward and placed a phone on the table. A video was already playing. Grainy footage. A parking structure. Two figures standing near a car. Evelyn recognized the scene instantly. The meeting she had with Damian several days earlier—the one Victor had unknowingly recorded through surveillance. Except that the clip had been edited. Carefully. Strategically. The beginning of the conversation was missing. The final moments were missing. Only the part where Damian leaned slightly closer remained. A frame where Evelyn appeared to look up at him. Then the clip ended. The headline beneath the video was already spreading across every major financial news platform. BLACKWOOD HEI
The research floor of Blackwood Tower was almost empty. Most employees had left hours ago, but the lights in the investigative department still burned late into the night. Stacks of recovered documents lay spread across a large conference table, each one carefully tagged with evidence markers. Damian stood at the far end of the room, staring at a screen filled with newly decrypted financial records. Grant entered quietly, carrying another folder. “We recovered more files from the warehouse drive,” he said. Damian didn’t look away from the monitor. “What kind?” “Medical procurement contracts.” Grant placed the folder on the table and opened it. “These aren’t standard hospital supply orders.” Damian finally turned. “What do you mean?” Grant slid one document forward. “Look at the department authorization.” Damian read the heading. Blackwood Memorial – Clinical Research Division He frowned. “That division didn’t exist officially.” “Exactly.” Grant flipped the page. Th
The nurse’s voice on the phone had been calm. Too calm. “Mrs. Vance, Silas experienced dizziness during recess. The school doctor recommends a precautionary hospital check.” That was all she said. But Evelyn’s hands had already begun to shake. Now her car cut through late afternoon traffic faster than she normally allowed. The city blurred past the windshield as her mind filled with every possible disaster. Silas had only just recovered. His body had barely stabilized after the blood transfusion. What if something was wrong again? What if Her phone rang. Damian. She hesitated for half a second before answering. “Yes?” “I just received the same call from the school,” he said. Her grip tightened on the steering wheel. “You’re going there?” “I’m already ten minutes away.” Silence hung briefly between them. “Good,” she said quietly. Neither of them acknowledged the strange comfort in knowing the other was coming too. The school courtyard looked unusually tense when Ev
The old hospital archive building stood at the edge of the city like a forgotten memory. Most of the lights inside had been replaced by newer systems, but the structure still carried the quiet weight of its history. The original records storage wing remained partially operational, mainly for legal documentation tied to the hospital before its reconstruction. That was why Damian suggested the location. If Edward Blackwood’s authority had been used during the fire, then the earliest system installation records would still exist somewhere in the physical archives. Evelyn arrived just before dusk. The parking lot was nearly empty. A cool wind moved across the cracked asphalt as she stepped out of the car. Damian was already waiting near the entrance. Neither greeted the other immediately. Five years had taught them both caution. “You came,” Damian said after a moment. “You said the original infrastructure contracts were here.” “They are.” He pushed open the glass door and step
Night had settled quietly over Evelyn’s estate. The house was dim except for the warm light spilling from the study near the back garden. Beyond the glass doors, the lawn stretched into darkness, guarded by silent security lights and distant figures posted along the perimeter. Inside, Evelyn sat behind her desk reviewing financial reports she had read three times already. None of the numbers stayed in her mind. Her thoughts kept drifting back to the same place. Silas’s question. Is he my father? The words had followed her through the entire evening. Across the room, the door opened softly. Victor stepped inside. He carried two glasses of wine, placing one gently on the desk before her. “You’ve been working too long,” he said in his usual calm tone. Evelyn glanced up. “I didn’t hear you come in.” “You were concentrating.” He sat across from her, studying her expression carefully. “You look tired.” She leaned back slightly in her chair. “It’s been a complicated week.”
Late afternoon sunlight poured softly through the tall windows of Evelyn’s estate, casting warm golden lines across the quiet living room. Silas sat cross-legged on the floor near the coffee table, a small stack of colored pencils scattered around him. Sheets of paper were spread across the carpet like tiny islands. He worked slowly, carefully outlining the shape of a building with a black pencil. Evelyn stood a few feet away, reviewing emails on her tablet. The house had finally grown calm again after days of visitors, security checks, and doctors’ updates. For the first time in weeks, nothing urgent demanded her attention. The quiet should have been comforting. Instead, it felt fragile. Silas hummed softly to himself as he colored. Then he stopped. “Mom?” Evelyn glanced up. “Yes, sweetheart?” Silas didn’t look at her immediately. He kept staring at the drawing in front of him, as if the answer might already be hidden somewhere inside the picture. “The man who came to vi







