Chapter 4

The black Rolls-Royce struggled its way through the narrow, filthy streets of a run-down neighborhood. Its tires splashed through the puddles of dirty water, spraying mud everywhere.

Agatha sat in the back seat, covering her nose with disgust. "Only she can stand living in a dump like this. Once we drag her home, I'm going to make her take a bath with disinfectant first."

Zack looked out at the rundown streets contemptuously. "You can dress a lowlife up in a crown, but they'll never become royalty."

Jonah sat in the passenger seat, silent all the way. His slender fingers tapped absently against his knee, exposing his inner chaos.

He had assumed I would be hiding in some motel or maybe at an obscure friend's apartment. He never expected the spending record to show up in a slum so rundown that even the GPS couldn't locate it.

The realization left him irritated, as though things were slipping beyond his control.

At last, the car stopped outside a shabby pharmacy.

Jonah opened the door and strode out. His leather shoes landed on the oil-stained concrete with dull thuds.

Next to the pharmacy stood a makeshift rental shack cobbled together from corrugated metal sheets. The door was left ajar, letting out a faint yellow glow.

Elijah pointed at the door and lowered his voice. "Mr. Samson, the tracking data shows this is the last location where the supplementary card was used."

Jonah took a deep breath. He straightened his suit jacket and put that familiar, arrogant look back on. He thought that once he opened the door, he would find me in a miserable state.

He had even rehearsed his opening line. "The game is over, Julia."

He raised his foot and kicked the rickety metal door open without mercy. The door slammed against the wall, causing a bang. Everything inside was laid bare before them.

"The game is…"

Jonah's voice died. I wasn't there. There was no trembling, helpless fiancee waiting for him, just as he had imagined.

The cramped room was piled high with cardboard and empty plastic bottles, filling the air with a nauseating, musty stench.

An old scavenger with graying hair and tattered clothes squatted on the floor. He held a piece of clothing in his hand, trying to pick something out of its pocket under the dim light.

The sudden commotion made him flinch. Whatever he was holding slipped from his hands and fell to the floor. It was a black supplementary bank card, the one Jonah had given me as a symbol of his affection.

That piece of clothing was a white shirt, now stained with large patches of mahogany red. The fabric had gone stiff with dried blood, and under the dim light, it appeared lifeless and eerie.

Jonah stared at the shirt. He recognized it.

A month ago, I had worn that shirt when they forcibly dragged me away to take my blood. There was even a little white bellflower brooch pinned to the collar, one he had fastened there himself.

Now, the brooch was stained a dark brown with dried blood.

The scavenger stared at the well-dressed strangers crowding the doorway and instantly shrank into a corner. "I-I found this card. I didn't steal anything. I swear."

Zack frowned as he walked in, kicking an empty plastic bottle out of his way. "Where's Julia? Did she give you the card and tell you to put on this little act?"

The scavenger frantically waved, his voice trembling with tears. "What? I don't know who that is. I found this shirt and the card a few days ago in a medical waste dumpster behind the hospital.

"The shirt looked like it was made of good material, so I thought I'd take it home, wash it, and wear it. The card just fell out of the pocket."

Jonah's eyes were rigidly wide. He held his breath.