Ford didn’t finish his words. He didn’t need to say them. They both knew who had left it behind.
Dylan shifted slightly and reached inside the car, picking up the scarf.
Against his fingers, it still felt faintly warm ... as though it still carried the lingering trace of the person who had worn it.
His thumb brushed over the smooth surface, slowly rubbing the silk between his fingertips, testing its softness —its delicate weight.
Then he stilled.
As if suddenly aware of what he was doing.
His fingers tightened just slightly —not enough to wrinkle the fabric, but enough to betray the mont of realization.
His gaze lowered to it, quiet ... unreadable.
Ford stepped out of the car and approached him, stopping at a respectable distance. His eyes moved to the brown silk fabric. A known understanding flickered in his eyes, but he didn’t make it obvious.
"She seed to be in quite a hurry earlier," he said carefully, extending his hand to take it back. "She must have left it unintentionally ... and is likely looking for it by now. I can drive back and return it to her."
His hand stayed in the air like that for a long ti, but Dylan made no move to return the scarf. Instead, he held it as though he were holding on to a resolve that threatened to break.
"Sir ...?"
"A simple scarf like this holds no value," Dylan said, almost letting it slip from his fingers. But just before it could fall completely, he caught its corner. "She will forget about it in a while. There is no need to waste your ti and energy returning it."
And with that, he gathered the fabric again and tucked it into his pocket.
"Retire for the day," he said finally, before walking away.
Ford watched him leave. His lips curved into a helpless smile. Years had passed, but certain things had not changed at all.
And his boss’s stubbornness was one among them.
—————
anwhile, at the sa ti, on the other side —
"Achhoo!"
Adelyn couldn’t help but rub her nose in irritation. "Did soone curse ?"
The cab driver glanced at her through the rear-view mirror and asked politely, "Ma’am, would you like to turn down the AC?"
She looked up at him and shook her head. "No, it’s fine," she said, clearing her throat. "I have a scarf. I will put that on."
She reached her neck, searching for the piece of cloth. But nothing t her touch.
Frowning, she checked again —only to realize the scarf she had been wearing was nowhere to be found.
"Where did I leave it?" she murmured, trying to think back ... but nothing ca to her.
—————
Back in Sanctuary Heights —
Eira sat in the living hall, quietly drawing, with Karl sprawled right beside her.
The two looked like complete opposites sharing the sa space.
Eira sat upright and composed, her pencil moving slowly across the book with careful precision.
Beside her, Karl looked like chaos given human form.
He leaned forward on the couch, phone clutched tightly in both hands, eyes locked onto the screen with burning intensity. His shoulders jerked, fingers tapping rapidly as if fighting for life.
"Co on ... co on... CO On —!"
His character got ambushed.
A second later —
"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!"
He jerked upright, nearly falling off the couch.
"No vision?! No backup?! What are you all doing? Farming flowers?!"
His fingers flew across the screen again.
"Retreat! I said RETREAT —why are you all charging in?! Are you brainless?!"
Another defeat notification flashed across his screen.
Karl froze. Then exploded ...
"ARE YOU KIDDING ?! AGAIN?!"
He dropped back against the couch dramatically. "This is garbage matchmaking! Absolute garbage! My teammates play like —"
He stopped —almost all of a sudden.
Very slowly ... he turned his head and blinked.
Eira’s eyes were on him, wide and quietly confused.
Karl’s soul nearly left his body.
He had almost forgotten where he was.
How dare he curse around her?
What was he even thinking?
He straightened imdiately, clearing his throat, posture snapping into forced dignity.
"Eira, Uncle’s dearest," he began slowly, "Did Fourth Uncle scare you just now?" he asked stiffly, as though almost afraid of her answer.
However, Eira simply shook her head. "You were just a little loud. Eira couldn’t focus."
Her gaze then drifted down to his phone. "Did soone upset you?"
Karl followed her line of gaze and understood what she ant. He bit his lower lips and tossed his phone aside before shaking his head.
"No, no. No one upset . I was just playing and ..." he trailed off, not knowing how to explain.
In the end, he just sighed and used the logic that made most sense.
"Gas like these sotis produce ... excessive verbal responses. I wasn’t able to help it."
Eira blinked slowly, processing it.
"...So the ga makes people angry?"
Karl hesitated. He didn’t know which of his answer would backfire on him.
"...Yes."
"And you still play it?"
"...Yes." He nodded hesitatingly. "But I don’t get angry all the ti. Today was just a ... special scenario."
"Special scenario?" Eira asked.
Karl nodded. "Yes. So later, when your dad, Jasper, or Felix ask you, don’t tell them. Keep this as our secret. Okay?"
Or else no one will be able to save him from death.
Eira thought for a mont before nodding.
Seeing her agree, he finally relaxed.
However, just then, Dylan’s voice froze him.
"What are you doing here?"
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