Chapter Three: Meeting A Stranger

The taxi's horn blared, a jarring counterpoint to the silent storm raging inside me. Tears welled, blurring the city lights as I fought to maintain composure. Each choked breath felt like a betrayal, a crack in the carefully constructed wall of my stoicism.

The driver's voice cut through the suffocating silence. "Everything alright, miss?" he asked, his tone gentle but probing. I managed a weak, unconvincing nod, the lie heavy on my tongue. My silence screamed louder than any sob could have.

The rest of the journey was silent, punctuated only by the rhythmic whoosh of tires on the wet pavement. He pulled up to the hospital entrance with practiced ease. I fumbled for my wallet, offering the fare. He shook his head, his eyes unwavering.

Instead, he produced a worn envelope, his hand lingering on it for a moment before extending it to me.

"For you, Solace," he said, his voice low and somehow knowing. A chill ran down my spine. How could he possibly know my name?

Clutching the envelope, I exited the cab, my gaze fixed on the mysterious package. Inside, a wad of cash lay nestled beside a folded note. The message was simple: Use this. But scrawled on the back, almost as an afterthought, were three stark capital letters: KSG.

A shiver ran down my spine. The cryptic message felt like a puzzle piece, a fragment of something larger and more unsettling. But my mother's urgent need overshadowed the mystery; I shoved the money and the note into my pocket, determined to focus on the present.

The hospital doors swung open, revealing Guin, his face etched with grief. He enveloped me in a fierce hug, his sobs wracking his body. I held him close, my own tears welling, patting his back in a futile attempt to soothe his pain.

"Where… where is she?" I managed to ask, my voice thick with emotion.

Guin pointed a trembling finger towards a room down the hall. Before I could reach the door, it opened, revealing Gaile, her eyes red-rimmed and swollen. Our gazes locked, a silent exchange of grief and shared loss passing between us.

Gaile's words were sharp, like shards of glass. "Finally," she seethed, her eyes blazing with anger.

"I need to see Mom," I said, but my voice was lost in the storm of her fury. She blocked my path, her body a rigid barrier.

"It's all your fault," she accused, her voice rising with each word. "You wouldn't let her rest, you forced her to work, even when she was ill. You're so incredibly selfish!"

The words hit me like a physical blow, a painful revelation of her perspective. My hand moved before I could stop it, a stinging slap echoing in the tense silence. Guin stepped between us, but the raw, unbridled anger I felt threatened to consume me completely.

The question hung in the air, a heavy accusation.

"Selfish?" I repeated, the word tasting like ash in my mouth. "While you're here studying, I was working two jobs, paying for your education, covering Mom's medical expenses. I'm not asking for a medal, I'm not looking for thanks. I did it out of love, out of a desperate need to provide for our family. But you… you accuse me of being selfish?" My voice cracked, the raw emotion breaking through my carefully constructed composure.

Gaile stared at me, stunned into silence by the force of my words.

Guin's hand rested gently on my shoulder, a comforting weight amidst the storm of emotions. His touch was a silent plea for peace, and a small, shaky smile touched my lips in response. I knew he ached to see us reconciled, to restore the fragile harmony of our family.

When Gaile finally stepped aside, allowing me passage, I entered the room. My mother lay in bed, seemingly at peace. The realization hit me with the force of a physical blow. Tears streamed down my face, hot and uncontrolled, as I knelt beside the bed and held her close, the silent grief a heavy weight in my heart.

"Rest, Mom," I whispered, my voice thick with unshed tears. "I'll take care of everything, I promise. I'll look after Gaile and Guin." I dabbed at my eyes with the back of my hand, the rough fabric a poor substitute for a comforting touch.

Leaving the room, I found Guin waiting patiently in the hallway, his presence a silent reassurance.

The following days blurred into a somber procession leading to the finality of our mother's burial. The church was filled with mourners, their condolences a sea of well-meaning words that felt hollow and inadequate. Their pity was a palpable thing, a heavy blanket of sympathy I couldn't shake off.

Guin offered me a steaming cup of coffee, his concern evident in his eyes. "Coffee?" he asked softly. I managed a weak smile.

"Thank you," I replied, my voice strained. "I'm… full," I added, the lie a bitter taste on my tongue.

The emptiness in my stomach mirrored the vast chasm of grief that consumed me. I hadn't eaten since yesterday, but food seemed a trivial concern compared to the overwhelming weight of loss.

Our attention was drawn to the chapel entrance by a sudden stir in the hushed crowd. Gaile appeared, but she wasn't alone. A man walked beside her, his arm casually draped around her shoulders, his presence both unexpected and unsettling.

My brow furrowed involuntarily. Who was this man? And what was he doing here? A prickle of unease ran down my spine. Rising abruptly from my seat, I felt Guin's hand on my arm, his silent question hanging in the air. Together, we moved towards Gaile, a silent challenge in our shared movement.

"What's going on here?" I demanded, my voice low and hard. Gaile looked at me, her expression a mixture of confusion and defiance.

"What do you mean?" she retorted, her voice tight. My gaze shifted to the man standing silently behind her, his presence radiating an unsettling confidence.

"Who is he?" I asked, my tone sharper now. Gaile glanced at the man, then back at me.

"This is Dylan Ponce," she said, her voice strained. "My boyfriend."

A shocking revelation that left me momentarily speechless.

Guin's voice cut through the stunned silence. "You're insane!" he exclaimed, his anger palpable.

I shook my head, unable to comprehend the audacity of it all. My fingers pressed against my temples, a desperate attempt to alleviate the throbbing pain that had begun behind my eyes. Gaile's defiant glare confirmed my worst fears; this wasn't going to be easy.

My gaze remained fixed on Dylan, the question hanging unspoken in the air.

"Are you sure about this?" I finally asked Gaile, my voice low and steady. Her response was immediate, defensive.

"Don't be rude, Sol," she snapped, her tone sharp. But I pressed on, my concern overriding any desire for politeness.

"He's practically over my age, Gaile. You should be focusing on your studies, not this… this game," I said, the word "game" laced with disapproval.

Gaile's face flushed crimson, her anger a palpable force. "Don't you dare compare me to your pathetic loveless life," she spat, her voice thick with venom. "This isn't a game, this is love!"

The words were a blow, a cruel twist of the knife. I swallowed the lump in my throat, my own emotions warring within me.

"Fine," I said, my voice barely a whisper. "Do what you want." Turning, I walked away, leaving her to her choices, her love, her game.

The cool night air was a welcome contrast to the stifling atmosphere inside the chapel.

As I stepped outside, Guin's voice cut through the quiet. "Sol? Where are you going?" His question stopped me in my tracks.

"Just… getting some air," I replied, my voice strained. But even as I spoke the words, I knew it wasn't entirely true. I needed space, a moment to escape the emotional turmoil that had consumed me.

My mind wandered, lost in thought, as my feet carried me forward. I didn't realize where I was going until I found myself in an empty playground, the silence broken only by the creak of the swings.

I sat on one, the rhythmic back-and-forth a soothing balm to my frayed nerves. But the tranquility was short-lived. A figure emerged from the shadows, a man standing a short distance away, his presence both unsettling and intriguing.

A surge of unease washed over me. "Who the hell is that?" I muttered, rising from the swing, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm against my ribs.

My eyes scanned the ground, searching for something, anything, to use as a weapon. A small, sturdy branch caught my eye. I snatched it up, the rough wood a meager comfort in my suddenly vulnerable state.

The man was moving closer, his approach deliberate, his purpose unclear. A cold dread tightened its grip around my heart.

"Stay back!" I warned, my voice trembling slightly, but firm. I held the branch aloft, a pathetic shield against the unknown. "I don't have any money," I added, my voice strained, the words a desperate attempt to deter him.

A low chuckle drifted across the playground, a sound both chilling and unnerving, confirming my worst fears.

"He's mocking me," I realized, a surge of anger replacing my initial fear.

I scrambled to my feet, scooping up a handful of pebbles and hurling them at him. A grunt of pain followed, a satisfying sound that fueled my rising rage. He deserved it, the cowardly creep. But my triumph was short-lived.

With a speed that belied his earlier demeanor, he lunged, his grip like a vise around my arm. His eyes were fixed on mine, an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine. There was something unnervingly familiar about his gaze.

"Let go of me, or I'll scream!" I threatened, my voice trembling slightly, but my resolve hardening. His expression shifted, a flicker of something akin to recognition crossing his features.

Then, his voice, low and measured, sent a jolt of recognition through me. "Just promise you'll stop attacking me," he said.

I froze, my blood running cold. It was him—the cab driver, the man who'd given me the mysterious envelope.

My head gave a slow, reluctant nod. His grip loosened, and he released my arm. I took a step back, the distance a small victory in the face of my lingering unease. He watched me, his eyes narrowed, his expression unreadable.

"How did you know I was here?" I demanded, my voice tight with suspicion. "Were you following me?" A low chuckle escaped his lips, a sound that grated on my nerves.

"Stop it," I snapped, my patience wearing thin. "Stop making fun of me." The laughter died, replaced by a serious intensity in his gaze.

"Who are you?" I repeated, my voice sharper now. He simply stared at me, his silence more unnerving than any answer.

Then, he spoke, his voice calm and measured. "I'm Kaio," he said, extending a hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

I hesitated, my gaze lingering on his outstretched hand before tentatively touching the tips of his fingers, a cautious acknowledgment of his introduction.

"Solace," I replied, my voice tight, immediately withdrawing my hand from his. The brief touch felt strangely unsettling. His words were unexpected, unsettling.

"I'm here to help you, Solace," he said, his tone earnest, but his eyes held a knowing glint that sent a shiver down my spine.

"What kind of help?" I demanded, my suspicion overriding my politeness. His response was both startling and unnerving.

"I know who your father is," he said, his voice low and measured. A revelation that caught me completely off guard. How could he possibly know? How did he know I was searching for my father?

"What are you talking about?" I asked, forcing a smile that felt strained and unconvincing. His response was confident, bordering on arrogant.

"I can assure you, the information I have is accurate," he said, his eyes unwavering. I studied him for a moment, my mind racing.

"I don't care who my father is," I said, my voice sharper now, my resolve hardening. Turning, I began to walk away, my steps brisk, my intention clear. I'd almost reached the playground exit when his voice stopped me.

"Solace," he called, his tone casual, almost friendly. I turned, and he was smiling, a knowing glint in his eyes. "If you change your mind," he said, his voice soft but firm, "you can reach me at the number on the back of that note. Take care." With a final wave, he turned and walked away, leaving me alone with my doubts and my unresolved questions.

My gaze followed Kaio until his figure disappeared from sight. Then,

Guin's voice cut through the air, bringing me back to the present. "Solace?" He was walking towards me, his expression a mixture of concern and impatience. "What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice sharp.

I glanced back at the path where Kaio had been, but he was gone—vanished without a trace. How could anyone move that quickly?

"Solace, answer me!" Guin's voice was more insistent now. I turned to face him, my mind still reeling from the encounter.

"I need to be alone," I said, my voice flat, my tone evasive. Turning, I began walking back towards the chapel, my mind a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts and unanswered questions.

Did I really need to know who my father was? The question echoed in my mind, a nagging uncertainty. I shook my head, trying to dismiss the thought, but Kaio's face, his enigmatic smile, remained imprinted on my memory. Should I trust him?