Chapter 1390

Dust blanketed the living room floor in a thick gray shroud—undeniable proof of years of abandonment—but the furniture sat neatly arranged. No signs of a struggle. No grotesque aftermath waiting to scar them.

A sharp, shuddering breath tore from Adah’s chest as relief crashed over her. She rushed inside.

Allan stayed glued to her side while the others filed in behind them.

Every window was latched tight, every pane of glass still whole. Furniture vulnerable to sunlight had been draped with protective sheets. In the kitchen, not even a scrap of garbage lingered.

Everything pointed to the same conclusion. Sally had left of her own accord, and she’d planned it carefully. Before walking away, she’d scrubbed this place clean with meticulous precision.

The group hadn’t found Sally—but that crushing weight lifted from everyone’s shoulders.

Desperate for more clues, the group charged up to the second floor and tore through every room.

The bedrooms told the same story. Everything had been tucked away with care. Even the quilts were folded crisply and stowed in closets.

After combing through the upper level, they regrouped downstairs in the living room.

“Sally must’ve had urgent business,” Sophie said, piecing it together. “She knew she’d be gone for a long stretch. That’s why she prepared everything like this.”

Rita nodded slowly. “Knowing her, she would’ve raced back here the second she finished whatever she’d set out to do. But she never came home. Either she never completed her mission, or something happened to her along the way.”

The speculation hung heavy in the air. The brief spark of hope flickering in their chests dimmed back into worry.

Anxiety carved deep lines across Adah’s face, and her eyes looked hollow, lost somewhere far beyond this room. She’d been waiting for Rita’s memories to return, clinging to the belief that those recovered fragments would guide her to her mother and the reunion she’d craved for so long. But now, that hope had crumbled. Every clue ended here in this silent, dust-choked villa. Where should she go next to find her mother? How could she still find her mother when the trail had vanished into smoke?

? : ν?

Doomsday Rose—the woman who’d never bent, never broken—stood there looking like spun glass. One strong wind and she’d shatter.

Allan captured her hand again, his voice anchoring her. “Don’t lose hope yet. I don’t care where we have to go—through deserts, across oceans, into whatever hell geography throws at us—I’ll walk beside you until we find your mother. We’ll find her breathing, or we’ll find her grave. But I swear to you, I won’t let you live the rest of your days haunted by not knowing.”

Everyone fractured sometimes. And when they did, comfort and care outweighed anything else.

Allan’s words fell on Adah’s withered heart like the first rain after years of drought. She lifted her gaze slowly until she met his eyes. Something in his expression—that raw tenderness blazing there—made her realize he didn’t grate on her nerves anymore.

She’d always chosen younger men, the kind who gazed at her with worship shining in their eyes, who treated her like a queen ascending her throne. But standing here now, she understood something she’d missed before. Being cherished—being held with care that asked for nothing in return—felt dangerously, unexpectedly good.

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