To My First Love, With Regret - 34

—I’ll figure that out myself.

—Actually, I have a lodging with Owen right down by the cliff. Since we’ll be staying here for a while anyway, why don’t you use it, Miss?

 

Stunned by the generous offer, Eve was momentarily choked up and speechless.

 

—Thank you. But you don’t have to help me that much.

—But you still need someone to help you, don’t you, Miss?

 

That was true. In this city teeming with her father’s people and others who recognized her face, Eve couldn’t go out looking for a lawyer or even visit Ethan.

 

—I will definitely repay you.

 

In the end, she agreed to accept more help and followed Chantal.

They didn’t encounter anyone as they slipped out of the Ducal residence. At this hour, there was no one on the path that crossed the cliff-top fields and led to the town. The two walked along the path, careful to shield their lantern light so it wouldn’t be seen from the mansion.

A little further on was Kentrell Castle. Beyond that black silhouette, they wouldn’t need to hide their light.

They paused on the middle of the hillside path to catch their breath, looking up at the tomb where the former glory of the Kentrell family was eternally buried.

The sound of an engine reached them from behind. The moment they turned around, a pair of headlights appeared. Eve shouted:

 

—Run!

 

There was nowhere to hide in the field, which lacked even bushes, let alone trees. The two women sprinted up the incline toward the castle, which would serve as their hiding place.

They were quickly out of breath. They couldn’t stop, even though the sharp breaths tore at their throats. The headlight beam, which had caught up to their feet in an instant, swallowed Eve’s ankles.

 

 

Screech.

 

 

The noise of the car stopping shredded not only the night air but also Eve’s hope. The sound of men’s boots running toward them was violent.

 

—Lady Evelyn!

—Return to the residence!

 

Eve, who hadn’t stopped running despite the guards shouting from close range, halted when a scream tore out.

 

—Aah!

 

Chantal, who had been following, was caught. Eve instantly lost her reason to fury when she turned back. Grabbing a delicate woman by the hair and dragging her across the rough, uneven dirt path!

 

—You beasts! Let her go right now!

 

It was inevitable that Eve was also caught when she tried to save Chantal. At least she wasn’t dragged away by the hair.

That would be someone else’s job.

 

—I can’t stand the sight of her. Lock her in the attic.

 

However, her father didn’t strike Eve. Was he afraid his heart would stop again?

Ah, what a pity. She would gladly offer her cheek for his death.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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The sun, rising at the edge of the cliff, was high enough to pierce the small attic window. Although the lighthouse lamp had been extinguished for a long time, Eve stared endlessly at the guardian of the sleeping night. It was as if she were offering a desperate prayer.

Please, let Mr. Robinson save Ethan.

Eve was useless. Now, the only person Ethan could rely on was his grandfather.

 

—Hah.

 

Her stomach growled, oblivious to the situation. Ethan might be starving.

Should I starve too?

A hunger strike was a good idea.

How is that good?

Her father would be the only one to benefit if Eve starved to death. She whirled around and headed for the door. Then, she commanded whoever was guarding the door:

 

—Bring me food immediately.

 

She was sitting and waiting at the table beneath the window.

 

 

Crash!

 

 

The sound of shattering glass echoed from outside the window, which she had left open, feeling suffocated by the musty dust smell. She leaned her head out and looked down, seeing fragments scattered in the garden. It was directly below her father’s bedroom.

Did he get angry because I brazenly asked for a meal?

Eve realized something.

I can kill Father even while trapped in the attic. Then I’ll continue to act brazenly and get on his nerves.

However, a moment later, the door opened, and a maid entered, holding a tray. Eve had assumed that her father, enraged by her request for a meal, would surely have ordered her to starve.

Then why?

Eve asked the maid who was setting the meal on the table:

 

—Why did His Grace break the window?

 

The young maid glanced at the other maid standing outside and whispered secretly.

 

—They say the real culprit who killed the Baron has confessed.

 

….…Ethan didn’t kill him?

 

—Then is Ethan free?

—Yes.

—Ha, thank God.

 

This sudden good fortune could only be attributed to divine will. Only after offering a prayer of thanks did Eve ask:

 

—Then who is the real culprit?

—The lighthouse keeper, his grandfather.

—…What?

 

Now, she could neither call it good fortune nor thank God.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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The eyes of the white-haired old man were sharper than the worn lightbulb in the interrogation room. Light and shadow sharply divided his wrinkled face. He looked like a man standing on the boundary between life and death.

Meanwhile, the figure of the old man kept dissolving into a hazy blur, like a ghost, due to the cigarette smoke that the investigator was heavily puffing out.

Shepherd stared with an uneasy gaze at the lighthouse keeper, a man widely respected in Cliffhaven.

Jeremiah Robinson was different from the evil seed, Ethan Fairchild. He was a model citizen who wouldn’t spit on the street, let alone commit murder.

This man is only making a false confession to save his grandson.

Love is perfected through sacrifice. As a father himself, Shepherd sympathized with his decision.

But as an investigator, he could not allow the real culprit to slip away. He would expose the false confession and send the old man away.

Shepherd stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray and began the interrogation, the first time in his career fighting crime that he had started one with the goal of proving a man’s innocence.

 

—Mr. Robinson, what was your motive for the murder?

 

The old man closed his hollow eyes and released his answer like a sigh.

 

—Baron Langdon shot my lighthouse.

—Ha…

 

The investigator chuckled derisively.

 

—Are you saying you killed a man just because he shot at a lighthouse? That makes no sense.

—That lighthouse is like a father and a child to me.

—It still makes no sense. That incident was over a month before the Baron was murdered, wasn’t it? And now you seek revenge? Furthermore, I heard the Ducal family fully compensated for the damage.

 

Despite being logically contradicted, the old man showed no sign of wavering. His eyes, fixed intently on the investigator, were utterly calm. It was as if he were certain he would win, no matter what effort his opponent made.

 

—Mr. Robinson, if you have a more plausible motive, why are you raising this ridiculous reason about the lighthouse? Why don’t you claim he tried to rape your granddaughter?

—No such thing happened. Do not commit the sin of insulting a lady.

—You would invent a story to protect your granddaughter’s honor… I understand your affection for your grandchildren, as I have children myself, but…

 

The moment Jeremiah Robinson took something out of his jacket pocket and placed it on the table, Shepherd knew he had lost this battle.

It was a pair of garden shears.

 

—This is the weapon I used to stab the Baron in the neck. Compare it to the corpse.

 

That afternoon, the coroner’s report landed on the chief investigator’s desk.

The shape of the garden shears is consistent with the stab wound on the victim’s neck.

Jeremiah Robinson was immediately arrested as the murderer of Baron Langdon.

 

—Captain!

 

As he was led toward the holding cells, Ethan Fairchild, who had been sitting behind the bars, instantly recognized his grandfather and jumped up.

 

—What are you doing to my grandfather?

 

Seeing the handcuffs on his hands, Ethan clung to the bars and became agitated.

 

—He’s been arrested for the murder of Baron Langdon.

—…What?

—Therefore, you are free. Release him.

 

At Shepherd’s command, the officer opened the holding cell door. Ethan Fairchild didn’t step out but stood in the doorway, blocking his grandfather, who was walking toward the prisoner’s place he had just vacated.

 

—Captain, what are you doing? It wasn’t him! Please, don’t do this.

 

No matter how much Ethan pleaded and begged, his grandfather remained silent, like the lighthouse standing firm against all the waves at the edge of the cliff. He simply stared firmly at Ethan with tearful eyes, as if saying he would take the storm meant for his grandson. But what lighthouse illuminates the path to escape and then sinks in its place?

 

—No, Grandpa.

 

In the end, Ethan burst into tears, calling him ‘Grandpa’ like a child. Only then did the captain raise his cuffed hands and gently cup his grandson’s tear-soaked cheek.

 

—I love you, Ethan. If you love your grandpa, don’t try to save me. My wish is that you take my place as a pillar of support for Becky. Will you promise me that?

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Ethan did not make the promise.

Because he would get his grandfather out of prison no matter what it took. Because he would go back to the old days when the three of them relied on each other and lived together peacefully, however poor they were.

He had no choice but to let go of the dream he had shared with Eve. He shouldn’t have coveted what was unattainable in the first place. For the price of the arrogant bravado he displayed without even knowing what he was challenging, he was about to lose everything.

He should not have dared to challenge it.

The sharp reality had finally awakened him from his futile dream.