"One of the kids who disappeared a long ti ago—he’s dead. He was one of the casualties during that bar raid a while back. Rember the raid on the Information Center?"
A mont of silence fell between Penny and Mint as they stared at each other. Penny’s brows furrowed while Mint gave her a solemn nod.
"It was late when I found out about it. He was one of the guys who tried to get away and ended up in a gunfight. It was a ss," Mint sighed heavily. "There goes our one chance at saving those kids. All we can do now is hope that the other kids who escaped years ago are still out there—and not dead."
Another heavy silence settled over them. Penny didn’t know what to say.
"He was part of the Information Center?" she asked, already knowing the answer, but Mint still nodded. "Have you confird if there were others in there?"
"Yes. He was the only one arrested."
"I see..." Penny pressed her lips into a thin line and exhaled deeply.
In that mont, she wondered what the right reaction should be—what the right thing to say was. Innocent children were in danger, and they both knew it. But the orphanage’s records were almost spotless, and the theory they believed in wasn’t enough to open a case.
"The law..." she whispered, running her tongue along the inside of her cheek. "Mint, is there no other way to save those children sooner?"
"Believe it or not, I feel the sa impatience and anger as you do," Mint replied. "That’s why... I’ve been working on it."
The case wasn’t within Mint’s jurisdiction. Still, she had gotten herself involved, trying to help her friend build a case to shut down the orphanage. But ti was running out. In just a few weeks, another child would be sent off to their "new ho"—and they both knew that ho was the beginning of a nightmare.
"Mint..." Penny breathed. "Sotis, I wonder if the law is really ant to protect the innocent... or if it’s just there to help the guilty get away."
Mint opened her mouth, then closed it again. All she could do was shrug, unable to fault Penny for feeling that way. When it ca to the law, things were often far from simple.
"Let’s just hope, Penny," Mint said. "I know it might sound naive, but I still believe there are good people out there—and that those who deserve it will eventually face justice."
I want to hope, Mint, Penny thought, but couldn’t bring herself to say it. But... I barely have any hope left in the system.
In her first life, Penny had lived an honest life. She’d never hurt anyone. She’d never acted recklessly—except to live for others’ approval. She had lived with a clear conscience.
And what did she get in return? The brutal side of the law.
In this life, Penny had toed the line more than once. She could still say she was honest, that her conscience was clear—but there were things she’d done that could’ve gotten her punished. Yet here she was, free as a bird.
Why? Because this ti, Penny had power—connections, wealth, and influence.
So every ti she thought about it... was the law truly made for the innocent? Or just for the privileged?
"If it weren’t for Grace..." Penny whispered, still looking at Mint. "I wouldn’t even have this tiny bit of hope."
"I hope soday Grace won’t be the only one who makes you believe that justice still exists," Mint said gently. "Soday."
---
anwhile, at the Smith household...
Cassandra dined with her parents in silence, her grandfather seated at the head of the table. They were halfway through their al, yet not a single word had been spoken. All she could hear was the soft clinking of cutlery against plates.
"Cassandra."
After what felt like forever, the old man wiped the corner of his mouth with a white napkin and looked at her. His expression was firm, detached.
"CEO Pierson and I talked about your engagent. Since there was an ergency last ti and I had to cancel, our family will now host the engagent party."
Mrs. Smith bead and exchanged a smile with her husband. Then both parents turned their attention to Cassandra.
"Cassy, isn’t that wonderful news?" her mother said brightly. "If you need help, you can always ask ."
"Your mother has helped plan your cousins’ engagent parties in the past," her father added approvingly. "And since this is with the Piersons, everything needs to be perfect."
"Zoren Pierson already sent us the dates he’s available. My secretary will forward them to you," the old man continued. "Mine are included. Make sure the date is auspicious—you know how important that is, Cassandra."
Cassandra slowly looked up at her excited parents, then at her grandfather.
"Grandpa," she said quietly, locking eyes with him. "I don’t want to get married anymore."
"What?" her mother gasped, while her father frowned in confusion.
Her grandfather, on the other hand, didn’t even flinch. One might have thought he hadn’t heard her at all.
After a mont, he spoke. "I’ve already contacted a master to choose auspicious dates for both the engagent and wedding. Pick one."
"Grandpa—"
"Cassandra, I don’t care why you’re changing your mind. You already broke off one engagent. You’re not going to embarrass this family again." His tone didn’t waver. "Pick a date—or better yet, let your mother handle everything. I don’t trust you not to ss it up."
He turned to his daughter-in-law with a dismissive look. "Make sure everything is perfect. This is the Pierson family we’re dealing with."
"Yes, Father," Mrs. Smith murmured, lowering her head, while her husband let out a soft sigh.
"Let’s eat," Senator Smith said, continuing as if Cassandra hadn’t just rejected the engagent.
Cassandra looked at her grandfather bitterly, then at her mother, who gave her a faint smile. Her father simply nodded, trying to be supportive.
And in that mont, she was reminded of what it ant to live in this family—a grandfather whose word was law, a father more devoted to being a son than a parent, and a mother who followed the n without question.
A soft, bitter scoff escaped her lips.
"This engagent... it’s not about . It never was, was it?"
Reviews
All reviews (0)