Rodney sighed heavily, his eyes filled with grief as he stared at the photograph in his hands.

“She’s my granddaughter,” he said, his voice heavy with sorrow.

“Years ago, my son, his wife, and their 2-year-old daughter fell victim to an ambush by my enemies seeking revenge. My son and his wife were killed on the spot, and their little girl disappeared in the chaos. For years, I searched tirelessly for her, even confronting the culprits and asking for any information about her. But they callously claimed they had taken my granddaughter’s life with their own hands.”

Rodney’s voice trembled with anguish as he recounted the tragic events.

Judy, moved by his heart-wrenching story, offered words of comfort and refrained from probing further.

In the dimly lit room, Ariana lay awake, restlessly shifting in her bed.

unfamiliar and lonely. The fear from

unable to find sleep, Ariana tossed and turned. Her frustration grew as she pulled the blanket over her head in resignation. She squeezed her eyes shut, attempting to will herself to sleep, but her efforts only made her

a resigned sigh, she

who might be awake for a chat. Almost instinctively, her fingers moved toward her

briefly, reminding herself not

the chat box, a new message from Holden

“Are you asleep?”

But after a moment’s thought, she replied

called her. Ariana hesitated briefly before accepting the

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