Chapter 654

Rosalind stood motionless for a long moment before turning away. She and the masked stranger walked in opposite directions, their figures gradually swallowed by the distance until neither remained in the other's line of sight.

The moment she stepped into Rosewood Manor, Lillian came rushing out. "Rosalind! You're home!"

Rosalind blinked in surprise before pulling her into a tight embrace. "What are you doing here today?" Lillian grinned. "Research team got an unexpected day off. I couldn't wait to see you."

"Perfect timing. I'll have Beatrice prepare your favorite dishes—you're still at that growing age after all."

Her smile faltered as Lillian studied her face. "I saw you from the window, walking with your shoulders slumped. Something's bothering you. Weren't you supposed to meet Harrison today? Did something happen?"

Three years had transformed Lillian from a gangly schoolgirl into an elegant young woman of eighteen. As one of Westfield University's brightest research prodigies, she immediately sensed the shift in Rosalind's mood.

Rosalind's lips twitched into a strained smile. "I thought I saw Everett today..."

Lillian's breath caught. "Everett? Where? He's been gone for three years—I haven't heard a single word from him!"

"It... wasn't him. Just someone who resembled him. My mistake."

The hope drained from Lillian's eyes. After their mother's passing, Everett had been her only remaining family—until he vanished without explanation.

"Where could he have gone?" Her voice cracked as tears spilled over. "Why wouldn't he come back to us after all this time?"

Rosalind cradled her close. "I don't know where he is. Or why he never returned."

Everett Sinclair had disappeared from the face of the earth.

Did he even know how desperately he was missed?

Outside the manor's gates, a tall figure in a black mask stood vigil—the same man who'd saved Rosalind twice that day. Everett.

He hadn't revealed himself. The accident three years ago had stolen his face along with nearly everything else. When Rosalind tore off his mask earlier, the horror in her eyes had been unmistakable.

That car crash off the cliffs of Wintervale should have killed him. The villagers who pulled him from the wreckage barely recognized him as human. Months of agony followed. He survived, but the man she'd loved no longer existed.

Over the years, he'd tracked Lillian's accomplishments through news reports—state awards, international accolades, acceptance into Metropolia's prestigious Stanfern University, now pioneering rocket propulsion research. She'd surpassed all his achievements. Because unlike him, she'd had Rosalind.

For three years, Rosalind had raised his sister, fulfilled the responsibilities that should have been his.

The manor's windows glowed warm against the gathering dusk. Inside were the two women who meant more to him than life itself—the home he'd always dreamed of but could never reclaim.

The mirror showed a stranger's face now. Sometimes he couldn't even recall his own features.

Better this way.

Let them remember him as he was. Let them move forward without his shadow.

The mask settled back into place as he turned away. Some goodbyes were meant to be silent.