Liam let out a long, tired sigh as he leaned back against his chair, eyes drifting from the glowing computer screen to the ceiling. He’d been sitting there for nearly three hours, jumping from one document to another, rereading instructions he already understood, and typing answers that felt dull and repetitive.

  Doing school activities on a weekend really was exhausting.

  He rubbed his eyes and sighed again, pushing his chair back with a soft scrape. “Alright,” he muttered to himself, standing up, “that’s enough. I need to get out before my brain melts.”

  He stretched his arms over his head before stepping out of his room and into the quiet corridor. The house was unusually still—no voices, no footsteps, only the faint hum of distant appliances. As he walked, his gaze drifted toward a narrow door tucked at the end of the hallway.

  The storage room.

  He slowed to a stop, staring at it for a moment.

  Hmm… maybe I can find something in there to relieve my boredom, he thought.

  With a small shrug, he turned the knob and opened the door. A faint scent of dust and old paper greeted him as the light flicked on. Inside were stacks of boxes, some neatly labeled, others worn and taped haphazardly, all piled in varying heights like forgotten memories.

  “Well,” Liam murmured, hands on his hips, “this place hasn’t been touched in a while.”

  He stepped inside and began opening boxes one by one. The first few were familiar—old toys, worn-out notebooks, and childhood trinkets. Then he came across several boxes with neat labels.

  Liam.

  Nathan.

  Brielle.

  Briallen.

  He smiled faintly as he peeked inside his own box—old drawings, a cracked toy stethoscope, and faded photos from when he was younger. Guess I’ve always wanted to be a doctor, he thought with a quiet chuckle.

  Nearby were boxes with his parents’ names, filled with old letters, framed certificates, and items that clearly held sentimental value.

  He moved on, eventually finding boxes stuffed with random papers, broken objects, and things that looked like they hadn’t been useful in years. He frowned slightly as he lifted the lid of one.

  “These are no longer important,” he muttered, nudging the contents with his foot. “Why are we even keeping them?”

  He was about to close the box when something caught his eye farther back in the room.

  A single box, sitting apart from the others.

  It was covered in a thick layer of dust, the label slightly faded but still readable.

  Lucretius Valencia.

  Liam froze.

  His chest tightened as Nathan’s words echoed in his mind—The Kishimotos are related to Uncle’s death.

  “So this is yours…” he whispered.

  He stared at the box for a long moment, conflicted. He didn’t know much about his uncle—only fragments, half-explanations, and the heavy silence that followed whenever his name was mentioned.

  Should I even be touching this? he wondered.

  After a brief hesitation, Liam sighed and crouched down, brushing the dust away with his sleeve. “Can’t hurt to look,” he murmured. “Maybe there’s something here that explains things.”

  He carefully lifted the box, surprised by its weight, and carried it out of the storage room. The quiet seemed louder now, his footsteps echoing as he walked back to his room.

  He set the box down near his desk and stared at it, his boredom completely forgotten.

  If there’s any truth hidden here, he thought, I want to find it.

  He just stared at the box.

  It sat there on the floor beside his desk, unassuming and silent, yet somehow heavy with meaning. Liam hadn’t moved an inch since setting it down. His elbows rested on his knees, hands loosely clasped, eyes fixed on the faded label as if it might suddenly speak.

  Thirty minutes passed.

  He glanced at the clock once, then looked back at the box. He still didn’t know what to do with it.

  Sure, he’d taken it out of boredom—something to break the monotony of a dull weekend—but now that it was here, the weight of it felt different. Real. Intimidating.

  “Why did I even bring you here…?” he muttered under his breath.

  He stood up, paced once around the room, then stopped in front of the box again.

  Should I even look into it?

  His uncle had always been a vague presence in the family—spoken of in hushed tones, mentioned briefly, then avoided entirely. All Liam really knew was the official story: Lucretius Valencia had died from alcohol poisoning. And then there was Nathan, lowering his voice and saying that the truth might be far more complicated—that the Kishimotos were somehow involved.

  Liam exhaled slowly. “That’s not much to go on,” he said quietly, more to himself than anyone else.

  He sighed for what felt like the nth time that day, running a hand down his face. “I already brought it here,” he murmured. “Might as well see what’s inside.”

  With a hesitant breath, he crouched down and opened the box.

  Inside were neatly stacked notebooks, their covers worn from use. There were several photo albums too, some thick, some thin, their spines cracked with age. Everything looked carefully kept, like someone had once treasured every page.

  “…Wow,” Liam whispered. “So many photo albums and journals.”

  He picked one up, flipping through the first few pages before placing it back. “Uncle must’ve really loved journaling and photography.”

  As he shifted the notebooks aside, something caught the light—a brief glint that made him pause. He reached in, moving a few items out of the way, and his fingers brushed against metal.

  He pulled it out slowly.

  A necklace.

  The pendant was simple but elegant, engraved with a single word: Doe.

  Beneath it, tucked carefully into the corner of the box, was a small music box. Curious, Liam turned the key. A soft, unfamiliar melody filled the room—gentle, melancholic, almost nostalgic.

  His brows furrowed. “Who’s… ‘Doe’?” he murmured. “Was that a nickname? But of who?”

  He gently placed the necklace on his desk and closed the music box, the sudden silence making the room feel even heavier.

  Reaching back into the box, he grabbed one of the photo albums and opened it.

  The pages were filled with pictures of Lucretius in his teenage years—laughing, posing with friends, standing confidently in places Liam didn’t recognize. A small smile tugged at Liam’s lips as he flipped through each page.

  “We’re alike,” he whispered, barely audible.

  The resemblance was uncanny. Same smile. Same eyes. Even the way Lucretius tilted his head in photos reminded Liam of himself. From the pictures alone, it seemed like they shared the same easygoing personality.

  Then he turned a page—and stopped.

  Lucretius was standing beside a girl, his arm wrapped comfortably around her waist. They looked close. Intimate. Happy.

  Liam leaned closer. “Who is this woman…?”

  He carefully removed the photo from its sleeve and turned it over. Written on the back, in familiar handwriting, were the words:

  With my Doe <3

  Liam’s eyes widened slightly. He glanced back at the necklace on his desk.

  “Is she… this Doe?” he murmured. “Wow… I didn’t even know Uncle had a lover.”

  His curiosity growing, he reached for another photo album. This one was filled entirely with pictures of Lucretius and Doe—traveling, smiling, caught in candid moments that spoke of deep affection.

  But halfway through the album, something felt off.

  Liam frowned.

  “…Huh?”

  He turned the page—and froze.

  Doe’s face had been cut out.

  He flipped to the next page.

  Cut out.

  The next.

  Also cut out.

  His confusion deepened with every turn of the page. “What happened?” he asked aloud, his voice low and uneasy.

  He placed the album down and quickly rummaged through the box, searching for the missing pieces—loose scraps, torn faces, anything.

  If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  Nothing.

  He slumped back onto the floor. “Why was her face in every photo cut out?”

  Did they have a huge argument? A falling out? Or something far worse?

  He ran his fingers through his hair, frustration settling in his chest. “Everything is so mysterious,” he muttered. “I barely know anything about him… and it feels like everyone in this house is hiding something from me about Uncle.”

  The box sat open beside him, its contents silently watching as more questions than answers filled his mind.

  “Deia, don’t you think this is weird?”

  The small calico cat merely tilted her head before letting out a soft meow, her tail flicking lazily as if she understood but chose not to answer. Yumio sat cross-legged on the floor, Bambi’s open box spread out in front of her once more. The faint scent of old paper and dried flowers filled the room, and the sight of the familiar trinkets made her chest feel heavy.

  She picked up one of the photo albums again, carefully flipping through its pages. Her fingers lingered on the scratched-out faces, her brows knitting together.

  “I don’t get it,” she muttered. “Why would someone go through all the trouble of keeping these… but erase them at the same time?”

  Deia meowed again, hopping closer and sniffing the edge of the album. Neira and Gaiea followed, settling beside Yumio as if guarding her thoughts.

  Yumio leaned back, staring at the ceiling. “I never even met that family,” she said quietly. “And I barely know anything about Aunt Bambi either.”

  She turned her head toward the cats, her expression troubled. “Everyone keeps acting like she’s this sensitive topic we shouldn’t talk about. But she was part of our family, wasn’t she?”

  The cats stared back at her, wide-eyed and attentive.

  “I think everyone is hiding something from me,” Yumio continued, her voice low. “Mom, Dad… even Nii-san and Nee-san. They all know more than they’re telling me.”

  She hugged her knees to her chest. “They say so little about Aunt Bambi. Just enough to make it seem like an accident. But nothing ever really adds up.”

  Her fingers tapped anxiously against her leg as a memory resurfaced. “Yurio said the Valencias were related to her death,” she murmured. “But what does that even mean? What did the Valencias do?”

  Frustration bubbled over. She ruffled her hair roughly, letting out an irritated groan. “This is stressing me out so much! What’s the real reason behind the rivalry between our families? And why are they always connected to Aunt’s death?! I really can’t with all of this!”

  Unable to sit still any longer, Yumio flopped backward onto her beanbag chair, the soft fabric sinking beneath her weight. She covered her face with her hands and sighed deeply.

  Almost immediately, she felt movement. Deia climbed onto her stomach, Neira curled up near her shoulder, and Gaiea tucked herself beside Yumio’s arm. Their warmth and soft purring slowly eased the tight knot in her chest.

  Yumio smiled faintly and reached out, gently petting each of them. “Thanks, girls,” she whispered. “I really needed that.”

  She stared at the ceiling again, her thoughts calmer but no less determined. “I really have a feeling my parents and grandparents are hiding something…,” she said softly. “Maybe even some of the workers who’ve been here since before we were born.”

  Her eyes slowly widened.

  “…Wait.”

  She sat up abruptly, startling the cats. “Neris,” she said, almost breathless. “She’s the oldest servant here. She’s been in this mansion for years—maybe even since Aunt Bambi was still alive.”

  A spark of excitement replaced her frustration. Yumio smiled to herself as she gently set the cats aside and stood up.

  “If anyone knows something,” she murmured, “it has to be her.”

  With newfound resolve, Yumio left her room, the door closing softly behind her as she set off to uncover the truth.

  “I apologize, mistress, but I cannot disclose any information about Mistress Bambi without your father’s or your grandparents’ consent,” Neris said softly, her hands folded neatly in front of her apron. There was genuine regret in her eyes, as if she wished she could say more.

  Yumio stared at her for a moment, searching her face for even the smallest hint—anything that might suggest Neris knew more than she was letting on. But the older servant’s expression remained gentle and firm, unwavering.

  Yumio let out a quiet sigh, her shoulders slumping.

  “…I see.”

  It’s no use, she thought. Even asking directly won’t get me anywhere.

  “Alright,” Yumio said, forcing a small smile. “Thank you for listening to me, Neris.”

  Neris returned the smile, warm and maternal. “Anytime, mistress. If there is anything else you need, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

  Yumio hesitated for a second before nodding. “Actually… can you please pack two fruit salads? My friend really liked them last time.”

  Neris’ eyes lit up slightly. “Of course,” she replied. “I’ll prepare them right away.”

  With that, Neris turned and headed back into the kitchen, the soft clinking of utensils soon following her departure.

  Yumio watched her go, then released another sigh as she turned toward the staircase.

  They really are stopping me from knowing anything, she thought bitterly.

  She made her way back to her room, each step heavier than the last. Once inside, she shut the door behind her and flopped down onto her bed, arms spread wide as if surrendering to her frustration.

  “It’s no use!” she groaned, staring at the ceiling.

  At the sound of her voice, Deia jumped onto the bed, followed by Neira and Gaiea, all three cats gathering around her as if on cue.

  “Even Neris can’t tell me anything,” Yumio muttered, propping herself up on her elbows. “If even she’s refusing, then they’re really serious about keeping this a secret.”

  She reached out and scratched Deia behind the ears. “They’re really preventing me from knowing something important, aren’t they?”

  The cats responded with soft purrs, which only made Yumio sigh again—this time more tired than angry.

  Her gaze drifted to the wall clock.

  …Oh no.

  She quickly sat up. “I’ll let this slide for now,” she said decisively. “I wouldn’t want to be late meeting Liam.”

  She rolled off the bed and grabbed her bag, starting to pack the books she planned to bring. As she placed the last one inside, she glanced at her reflection in the mirror and froze.

  She was still wearing her indoor dress.

  “Shoot!” she exclaimed. “I need to change.”

  She rushed into her walk-in closet, already scanning her clothes for something comfortable yet presentable. In her haste, she failed to notice Gaiea quietly hopping into her open bag, curling up between the books with a contented little meow.

  A few minutes later, Yumio stepped out, smoothing down her outfit and smiling at her reflection. “Much better.”

  She zipped her bag shut, slung it over her shoulder, and hurried downstairs.

  “Neris!” she called out.

  “Just a minute, mistress!” Neris’ voice replied from the kitchen.

  Yumio waited near the entrance, rocking slightly on her heels. Soon enough, Neris emerged, holding a plastic bag with two neatly packed containers inside.

  “Here you are, mistress,” Neris said, handing it to her.

  Yumio’s face brightened instantly. “Thank you, Neris!”

  “You’re welcome. Please be careful on your way.”

  “I will!” Yumio replied cheerfully.

  With that, she stepped out of the mansion, the doors closing behind her. She hopped onto her bike and pedaled through the streets, the breeze brushing against her face as she headed toward the cliff—her thoughts slowly shifting away from secrets and mysteries, and toward the person waiting for her.

  Liam’s back rested against the rough bark of the tree, his legs stretched out in front of him as his gaze drifted aimlessly toward the horizon. The wind rustled the leaves above, but his mind was far from the peaceful view before him. Images of old photographs, cut-out faces, and the strange necklace kept replaying in his thoughts.

  Everything felt… off.

  He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn’t notice the soft crunch of footsteps approaching.

  Yumio arrived with her bike and quietly placed it in their usual spot. She smiled when she saw Liam already there, but her expression soon shifted to confusion. He wasn’t reading, wasn’t listening to music—he was just staring ahead, eyes distant, completely unaware of her presence.

  That’s unusual, she thought.

  She walked closer, stopping right in front of him. When he still didn’t react, she raised a hand and waved it in front of his face.

  “Hello?” she teased. “Earth to Liam?”

  Nothing.

  Yumio blinked, then leaned closer and squinted at him. “…Wow.”

  She gently shook his shoulder. “Liam.”

  Still nothing.

  With a sigh, she gave him a slightly firmer shake. “Hey!”

  Liam jolted, blinking rapidly as if waking from a dream. His eyes focused, and when they landed on her, his expression immediately softened.

  “Oh—Mio!” he said, straightening up. “When did you get here?”

  Yumio sat down beside him, resting her hands on the grass. “Just now. You were so deep in thought you didn’t even hear me arrive.”

  Liam rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to ignore you.”

  “It’s fine,” she replied gently. She studied his face for a moment, noticing the faint crease between his brows. “You don’t usually space out like that, though. Is something wrong?”

  Liam hesitated, then let out a slow sigh. “Yeah… I guess there is.”

  Yumio turned her body toward him, giving him her full attention. “What is it?”

  He stared at the ground for a moment, gathering his thoughts. “I feel like my family is hiding something from me.”

  Her eyes widened slightly. “Hiding something?”

  “I have an uncle,” Liam continued. “He died when I was still a baby. I’ve only ever been told that it was alcohol poisoning, but… that’s it. No stories, no memories, no explanations. It’s like they’re trying to erase him from existence.”

  Yumio’s breath hitched in surprise. “I… I have something like that too.”

  Liam looked at her, startled. “You do?”

  She nodded slowly. “My aunt died when I was a baby as well. Everyone talks about her so carefully, like she’s something fragile. And whenever I ask questions, they avoid answering or change the subject. It feels like they’re preventing me from knowing the truth.”

  Liam’s eyes softened with understanding. “So you get it too.”

  “Yeah,” Yumio said quietly. “It’s frustrating. You feel like you’re missing a piece of yourself.”

  “Exactly,” he replied, relief evident in his voice. “I thought I was the only one who felt this way.”

  Before either of them could say more, a faint sound cut through the air.

  “Meow.”

  Liam frowned and glanced around. “Did you hear that?”

  Yumio tilted her head. “Hear what?”

  Another soft sound followed.

  “Meow~”

  This time, Yumio stiffened. “Okay… yeah. I heard that.”

  They both looked around, scanning the area beneath the tree and the nearby bushes.

  “Where is that coming from?” Yumio asked.

  They listened carefully.

  “Meow.”

  The sound was closer now.

  Their gazes slowly drifted toward Yumio’s bag resting beside her.

  “…No way,” Liam said.

  A muffled meow came from inside the bag.

  He stared at her. “Dude. Did you bring a cat?”

  “I didn’t!” Yumio exclaimed, panic flashing across her face. Then her eyes widened in realization. “Oh no…”

  “What?”

  “One of my cats must’ve crawled into my bag while I was changing,” she said, already reaching for the zipper. “I left it open!”

  “And you didn’t notice?” Liam asked, half-amused, half-concerned.

  “I was in a hurry! And she didn’t make a sound back then!” Yumio protested.

  Another meow sounded, more insistent this time.

  Liam leaned closer. “You should probably get her out now. Before she runs out of air.”

  “Right, right!” Yumio quickly unzipped the bag.

  A small gray-and-white head popped out immediately, followed by an indignant series of meows.

  “Gaiea!” Yumio cried as she gently lifted the cat out. “You clumsy little thing!”

  Gaiea meowed loudly in response, then promptly licked Yumio’s hand as if nothing was wrong.

  Liam laughed softly. “She’s adorable.”

  “She really isn’t supposed to be this sneaky,” Yumio muttered, though she was smiling now.

  “She reminds me of a cat I once saw with my childhood friend,” Liam said thoughtfully. “That was… fourteen years ago.”

  He reached out slowly, unsure if Gaiea would allow it. To his surprise, the cat leaned forward and nuzzled her head against his hand.

  Yumio blinked. “Wow. She’s not usually that friendly with strangers.”

  Liam grinned, clearly pleased, as he carefully placed Gaiea on his lap. “Guess I have a natural talent with cats.”

  Yumio laughed. “Or she just likes you.”

  They sat there for a moment, the tension from earlier easing as Gaiea purred contentedly.

  After a while, Yumio looked at Liam again, her expression sincere. “I’m sure you’ll find a way to uncover the truth about your uncle. Even if it takes time.”

  Liam met her gaze and smiled, something warm and grateful in his eyes. “I think so too.”

  He paused, then added gently, “And the same goes for you. Whatever your family is hiding about your aunt—you’ll figure it out.”

  Yumio smiled back, holding Gaiea a little closer. For the first time that day, the weight on her chest felt lighter.