When I came to, I found myself back in the small cabin where I had lived with my father.

There was a bowl of warm soup with a lid on it on the table, and beside it was a note from Edwin.

[Something urgent has come up. I’ll stop by this evening.]

To him, I was probably just a pitiful pregnant woman who had lost both her father and her husband.

I could tell that his kindness stemmed from nothing more than simple human pity.

I weakly put the note down and looked around the house, leaving the soup untouched.

The warm, peaceful home that had once been filled with laughter — my father’s calm voice and Carlos’s gentle presence — was now empty and silent. I was the only one left behind.

The loneliness of being the last person in the world sank deep into my bones, chilling me to the core.

Before I realized it, my hand was resting on my flat belly.

What was I supposed to do now?

Could I safely bring this child into the world without him?

Even if I did, once I was gone, the baby would be left all alone.

Was it right to burden this tiny life with such sorrow before it had even begun?

A thousand thoughts swirled through my head.

If only he were still alive, I wouldn’t feel so hopeless.

The corners of my eyes burned again and I lowered my head.

It all felt so unreal.

Even as my world collapsed around me, a fragile life continued to grow quietly inside me.

My fingers trembled as I brushed them across my stomach.

‘Carlos… what am I supposed to do?’

At last, the tears I had been holding back broke free and fell.

‘What should I do with this poor child now?’

I didn’t bother wiping away the tears streaming down my cheeks. Instead, I slowly closed my eyes.

A gentle breeze slipped through the open window, warming my skin and reminding me of his touch.

It was reminiscent of the way my husband had always stroked my hair, as if to soothe me.

When I closed my eyes, it felt as though he were right beside me.

And just like that, I drifted into a shallow sleep.

Somewhere in the distance, I sensed a gaze upon me. I fluttered my eyes open and froze.

There, standing before me, was Father, smiling down at me with that same kind and familiar expression.

“Dad?”

He didn’t answer; he just smiled.

A wave of relief washed over me.

Ah, of course! I must have had a nightmare.

A terrible, impossible nightmare.

“I must have dozed off. Where’s Carlos?”

In response to my question, Father quietly pointed towards the window.

Puzzled, I turned to look outside, but there was no one there. When I turned back, Father’s smiling figure had disappeared.

“Dad?”

Startled, I jolted awake.

I was still sitting in the chair where I had fallen asleep.

Only then did I realize that it hadn’t been a nightmare. The grief and loneliness had all been real. What I had just experienced had been a dream.

Letting out a long, heavy sigh, I rubbed my face with trembling hands and slowly stood up.

Then I walked towards the window that my father had pointed out to me in my dream.

‘What was he trying to show me?’

Outside the window, the orange glow of sunset had already given way to darkness, which slowly spread across the sky.

Beyond the horizon lay countless cities, including Eltiva, the imperial capital.

What was Father trying to tell me in that dream?

Suddenly, a black bird rose and cut through the dusky light, its wings slicing across the fading sky.

In that instant, I had a thought: Carlos was buried in Eltiva’s national cemetery.

Seeing his name carved into the gravestone had left me breathless back then; my legs had been too weak to stand. I hadn’t been capable of thinking clearly.

But now, recalling it with a calm mind, everything about that day felt wrong.

The mayor appeared as if he had been waiting for me.

Despite their claims of a “clerical error”, my husband’s body had been buried without my consent.

The strangest thing of all was that the townspeople still couldn’t remember Carlos.

Only now was my foggy mind beginning to clear, piece by piece, as if pushing through the layers of despair that had overwhelmed me.

** ❋❋❋ ❋❋❋**

When Edwin entered the cabin, he noticed the empty soup bowl on the table and let out a sigh of relief.

He had worried that she might be too upset to eat, but it seemed that she had recovered enough to look after herself.

As he stepped further in, ready to greet her, he froze for a moment.

Sarah was sitting in the darkened living room, still and silent in her chair.

“There you are.”

Sarah rose slowly to her feet.

“Mr. Edwin, you once said that your trading company deals not only in goods, but in information too, didn’t you?”

The question came so abruptly that Edwin blinked, momentarily caught off guard.

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Then if information can be bought and sold…that means people can be bought and sold too, doesn’t it?”

Her words took him completely by surprise. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Strictly speaking, yes, I suppose that’s true.”

At his admission, Sarah’s gaze deepened, becoming steadier and more unwavering, as she spoke again.

“I need workers. About five.”

Edwin blinked at the sudden request, taken aback for a moment.

“Why do you suddenly need five workers?”

“I’m planning to dig up a grave.”

“Excuse me?”

Edwin thought he had misheard, but Sarah continued, pronouncing each word clearly.

“I need people to dig up my husband’s grave.”

“Are you… serious?”

“Please. I can pay whatever is necessary.”

She had a fair sum left from her father’s savings, enough if managed carefully, to last about five years. But she only had about a year left anyway.

Edwin scratched the back of his head, looking uneasy.

“Finding laborers isn’t difficult, but is it really necessary to go that far?”

From his point of view, she must seem crazy, wanting to dig up a body that had already been buried in the national cemetery. He felt a mixture of pity and suspicion.

Sarah met his gaze calmly and explained her reasoning.

“It still feels wrong. The mayor acted like he expected me. He led me straight to my husband’s grave, as if he had been waiting for me. That alone is strange.”

Edwin rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

“Now that you mention it, finding the missing records was easier than I expected.”

Encouraged by his tentative agreement, Sarah pressed on.

“If the bereaved family wants to confirm the grave, no one can stop them. After all, they buried the body without consent in the first place.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to request permission from City Hall and then inspect the grave properly?”

Sarah shook her head.

“No. I can’t trust them.”

Edwin studied her for a moment.

“Do you think City Hall is hiding something?”

“I can’t say for sure, but I can’t shake the feeling. I want to find out the truth without them knowing.”

Edwin held her gaze for a long moment, then sighed in reluctant resignation.

“All right. I’ll help you, just this once.”

That was enough. More than enough. She’d already received more help from him than she had any right to ask for.

Sarah’s lips curved faintly in gratitude.

“Thank you.”

** ❋❋❋ ❋❋❋**

It was the dead of night.

Everyone was asleep, and the rain fell in a steady, whispering drizzle, deepening the gloom of the cemetery.

Thud. Thud.

Five tall men worked in silence, their shovels slicing into the wet earth as rain ran down their backs.

Behind them stood Edwin and Sarah, watching.

“I never thought I’d get a request to dig up a grave in the middle of the night,” one of the workers muttered.

“Are you sure this is really your family’s grave? We won’t get in trouble for disturbing someone else’s, will we?” another grumbled.

Sarah answered in a calm, steady tone.

“It’s my husband’s grave.”

Her voice was so flat and cold that the men fell silent and went back to work without another word.

Soon, there was a sharp clank as a shovel struck something solid.

“The coffin! We’ve found it!” one of them shouted.

The others hurried to clear away the remaining dirt until the wooden lid was exposed.

“Should we actually open it?” one of them asked hesitantly.

Sarah said nothing, only giving a small, firm nod.

The workers exchanged uneasy looks, then, as if surrendering to fate, began prying the lid open.

“Are you sure about this?”

Edwin asked softly.

“I have to see it with my own eyes.”

At last, the lid came free with a creak, and the workers stepped back.

Sarah approached slowly, taking one trembling step after another, and then stopped short.

“Ah!”

Her knees gave way and she collapsed to the ground.

Inside the coffin lay a man, resting peacefully as though he were asleep.

It was a face she knew better than her own:

The husband she had loved so deeply, with his gentle features.

“Carlos…”