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Evelyn was just about to answer when hurried footsteps echoed from the hallway.

A second later, a small figure appeared, nearly skidding to a stop.

"Grandma!" Oliver shouted, his face lighting up like it was his birthday all over again. "You co!"

He ran straight into Martha’s arms.

"Oh...oh!" she laughed, bending down despite her age and wrapping him in a tight hug. "My goodness! Are you trying to knock Grandma over?"

Oliver giggled. "Daddy says I’m strong now."

"I can see that," Martha said, pulling back to examine him closely. "You’ve grown so much taller! Last ti I saw you, you were this height, barely reached my waist." She said, holding her hand at her waist to show Oliver’s height last ti she saw him.

"Really? I think that’s because I eat a lot of munchies and drink a lot of milk," Oliver declared proudly. "Especially blueberry muffins and donuts and chocolate milk!"

Evelyn chuckled. "Don’t forget pumpkin pie," she added.

Martha laughed warmly, her eyes glistening as she brushed Oliver’s hair. "Still the sa little glutton, I see."

"I’m not little," Oliver protested earnestly. "I’m four..."

"Well then," she said, pretending to think hard, "four deserves an extra blueberry muffin."

Oliver gasped as he turned to see Evelyn, "Mommy, Grandma understands ."

Evelyn watched them with a soft smile, her heart full.

"All right, let’s not keep Grandma standing for too long," Evelyn said warmly, guiding them toward the left wing of the house, where the guest rooms were located.

Martha’s bedroom had been prepared days in advance.

Soft curtains filtered in pale winter light, and a vase of fresh flowers sat neatly on the bedside table. The room felt calm, warm, and safe, exactly what Evelyn had hoped for.

After helping Martha settle onto the sofa, Evelyn watched with fond amusent as the older woman imdiately opened one of her bags.

"Oh my," Evelyn laughed. "Did you bring the entire market with you again?"

Martha waved her hand dismissively. "Nonsense. This is just... essentials."

Oliver’s eyes widened when colorful boxes and neatly wrapped packages appeared one after another.

"For ?" he asked, already crawling closer.

"For who else?" Martha teased. "You think I carried all this just to decorate the room?"

Oliver grinned and hugged her leg. "Grandma, you’re the best."

"I know," she said proudly. "Now sit. Let look at you properly."

They sat together on the sofa, Oliver between Martha and Evelyn, surrounded by snacks and toys.

"So," Martha said, adjusting her shawl, "how’s life in the Valley? Grayenfall has been terribly cold lately. The beach looks beautiful, but the wind cuts straight through your bones."

Evelyn nodded. "It’s warr in the Valley. Still cold, but nothing like Grayenfall. Oliver insists on playing outside every morning anyway."

"I’m strong," Oliver declared. "Daddy said cold makes people brave."

Martha laughed softly. "Then you must be one fearless boy now."

Oliver proudly nods while saying, "I am. And I can play piano better, too."

"Oh?" Martha leaned closer. "Show how much better."

"I can’t bring the piano here," Oliver said thoughtfully, then brightened. "But I will make a mini concert for you, Grandma. Mommy said I can."

Evelyn smiled. "He’s been practicing every day. Very diligently."

"I will play Grandma’s favorite song," Oliver added proudly. "And after that, I’ll show you my horse."

"Horse?" Martha blinked.

"My big horse and my pony!" Oliver said excitedly. "The pony is smaller, so he likes more."

Martha laughed, her eyes crinkling. "Just like you, then. Small but charming."

After a while, Jimmy appeared at the door and gently reminded Oliver that it was ti for his class.

Oliver hopped off the sofa and hugged Martha tightly. "Don’t go ho yet, okay?"

"I won’t," she promised, kissing his hair. "I’m staying right here."

Once Oliver left, the room grew quieter.

Evelyn sat beside Martha, her smile softening, her heart tightening.

’This is the ti,’ she reminded herself. ’The ti to tell her about Ethan.’

Yet when she looked at Martha—relaxed, happy, her eyes still glowing from Oliver’s presence—Evelyn swallowed her words. She smiled lightly instead and stood from her seat.

"Aunty, you must be tired from the trip. You should rest for a while. I’ll prepare so tea so we can talk again afterward."

Martha smiled, utterly unaware of the storm quietly gathering in Evelyn’s heart.

"Sure, dear. You always fuss over more than my own knees do," she joked, rubbing them lightly.

Evelyn chuckled, but her laughter was thinner than usual as she left the room.

A while later, she returned with two maids carrying a tray of freshly brewed tea, delicate cups releasing a comforting aroma.

After everything was set, the maids quietly excused themselves, leaving the room warm and intimate once more.

Evelyn sat back down, her fingers curling around her teacup. For a few seconds, she said nothing.

She watched Martha take a slow sip, her expression peaceful, and guilt tugged sharply at Evelyn’s chest.

This peace won’t last long, she thought.

"Aunty," Evelyn finally began, her voice gentle but deliberate.

Martha looked up at her, eyes kind and attentive. "Yes, dear?"

"Do you rember the DNA sample Axel took from you two weeks ago?"

Martha paused. Slowly, she placed her teacup down. "Of course I rember." A faint, sad smile touched her lips. "How could I forget sothing like that?" She hesitated, then asked quietly, "Why are you asking about it? Is there any good news for this old woman?" Her tone was light, but the bitterness underneath was unmistakable.

Evelyn’s heart clenched.

She gently placed her hand over Martha’s. "Aunty," she said softly, patting it reassuringly.

Martha’s eyes shimred, as though tears were gathering despite her best effort to remain composed.

"Aunty," Evelyn continued, taking a careful breath, "I have good news about Noah."

In an instant, Martha stiffened. Her eyes widened, and her free hand flew to her chest as if afraid her heart might leap out.

"Good news?" she whispered. "Did... did he find a clue about my son?" Her voice trembled, fragile and hopeful all at once.

Evelyn squeezed Martha’s hand, feeling how cold it had beco. "Yes, Axel found—"

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