Darkness Behind The Light

The birthday party was perfect at first. The soft glow of the lights, the warm laughter of friends, and the presence of Dad always gave a sense of security in the crowd.

Livia still remembers how she laughed out loud next to her father, Rhysand, who was serving the guests with his trademark smile.

Everything was so ordinary, yet full of simple happiness. However, no one knew that it was their last moments together. There was laughter, music, and the smell of freshly baked blueberry cake. Livia felt very happy, surrounded by the people she loved.

In the festivities, a phone call broke the fun. Rhysand frowned when he saw the caller's name on his cell phone screen.

"Sorry, I have to take a quick phone call," he told Livia before moving away from the crowd.

Rhysand's initially bright face slowly paled when he heard the panicked voice from the other side. He staggered back, his hands trembling as he held the cell phone. "What? How come?" he muttered, his voice choked.

Livia, who saw the change in her father's expression from a distance, had a bad feeling. She approached Rhysand, her heart filled with anxiety.

"Dad, what's wrong?" she asked anxiously. Rhysand fell silent, his breathing ragged, his chest tight. He tried to speak, but no words came out of his mouth. It seemed like his vision blurred, his body was unsteady, and...

At the same time, Livia felt her father's grip loosen. The cell phone slipped from Rhysand's hand, falling with a thud to the floor as her father's body collapsed unconscious.

"Dad!" screeched Livia, panicking. Her world seemed to collapse in an instant. The happiness that had once enveloped her heart vanished instantly, replaced by an overwhelming dread.

Livia's scream broke the party's silence, causing panic among the guests. They crowded around, watching in horror as Rhysand lay helplessly on the floor, his face deathly pale.

"Father! Father!" Livia kneeled beside Rhysand, desperately shaking her father's body, hoping he would open his eyes. However, Rhysand did not respond. Her body felt cold.

"Call an ambulance! Hurry!" shouted one of the guests, his voice filled with panic. Some guests rushed out to seek help, while others tried to calm the hysterical Livia.

Isolde, who had just come out of the kitchen with a tray of cookies, was rooted to the spot. The tray slipped out of her hands and fell to the floor, the once beautiful cakes now falling apart just as her heart broke.

"Rhysand!" Isolde ran to her husband, tears streaming down her cheeks. She kneeled beside Livia, hugging her daughter tightly. "Hold on, my darling," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Please..."

The ambulance's sirens broke the night's silence, but to Livia, the sound was like the howl of a wolf as her father departed forever. The medics tried their best, but fate had a different opinion.

Rhysand Vane, the master bartender and the loving father has breathed his last.

Her sudden departure made Livia feel like she was losing a part of herself. Every second that passed felt heavier. Her tears seemed to have dried up, and she could no longer wet her pale cheeks.

Isolde, unable to bear the burden of grief, collapsed beside her husband's body. The neighbours rushed to carry her to her room. Livia remained transfixed, like a statue, her body rigid but her soul trapped in a painful void.

Some of her close friends tried to comfort her with encouragement, but Livia only nodded weakly and flashed a very forced smile. Their words were like the wind, unable to penetrate the wall of sadness that surrounded her heart.

Rhysand's funeral was full of emotion. Isolde, still shrouded in grief, could only sob by her husband's grave. With a pale face and blank stare, Livia stood beside her mother, trying to remain strong despite her broken heart.

Their home, which was once filled with laughter, now feels empty. The beautiful memories with Rhysand, which used to be a source of happiness, have now turned into thorns that pierce the heart.

Days passed, but Isolde and Livia's grief never subsided. Isolde became more withdrawn, often staying up late into the night, staring at Rhysand's picture with a regretful gaze.

Livia, once cheerful, became more introverted, withdrawing from her friends and drowning in unbearable sadness.

One week after Rhysand's departure, a loud knock on the door shattered the silence of their home. Isolde, still deep in grief, opened the door. In front of her stood two cold-faced men with thick folders in hand.

"Mrs. Isolde Vane?" one of the men asked flatly. Isolde nodded weakly, a bad feeling in her heart. "We're from the National Bank, ma'am. We are here to foreclose on your home and business on behalf of Mr. Rhysand Vane."

The man's words were like a bolt of lightning. Isolde felt like her body was about to fall, locked in a void."Confiscate? On what grounds?" asked Livia, her voice trembling.

"Mr. Rhysand Vane is listed as having an outstanding debt to the National Bank," the man explained, his calm voice breaking the tension. "As collateral, he has pledged this house and business."

"That's impossible!" exclaimed Livia. "I've never been in debt!" Isolde, who was confused, tried to recall the conversations she had heard.

Rhysand had told her about a financial problem involving his confidant, but how severe was it?

We're just doing our job, Miss," the man continued in an unchanged tone. "Please prepare your belongings. We will be sealing this house soon."

Isolde and Livia's world came crashing down. They would be evicted from their home, losing their shelter and livelihood while they were still mourning Rhysand's passing. Isolde tried to stay strong, explaining that there must have been a mistake that her husband could not have left such a huge debt.

However, the two men remained unmoved, showing the documents Rhysand had signed. Livia felt her anger rising, her body trembling with rage.

"Cheater!" Livia shouted. "Our father would never do such a thing!" But Livia's screams didn't faze them. The two men stared at them with emotionless eyes, carrying out their duties without mercy.

Isolde and Livia, heartbroken, packed their belongings.

Family photos, paintings of Rhysand and Isolde, and other valuables were the only memories they had left. They were forced to leave the house full of memories without knowing where to go.

Amidst the heavy silence, Isolde stared at her house, encased in seals, as if every wall had said goodbye. Inevitably, her mind began to spin. Where else should they go? What was there to do? All roads seemed closed.

Still holding her hand, Livia looked up at her mother with questioning eyes. But Isolde could not give a definitive answer. All there was was a gnawing uncertainty. She tried to smile, but it felt stuck in her throat.

"What should we do, Mom?" asked Livia once more, her daughter's voice taking Isolde aback.

He looked up at the sky, which was no longer blue but red and faded by the hot sun. Every passing second felt like a heavier burden, but she didn't know what to say.

Just as Isolde felt that there was almost nothing left to hold on to, the sound of footsteps approached. The neighbours, who had been watching the expulsion with pity, began to approach them.

Some of them spoke words of comfort, offering sincere sympathy. However, in Isolde's heart, the words felt empty. None of them could provide a real way out.

Most of them were simple families, living a meagre existence. Even they were no more fortunate. Isolde felt smaller and smaller, almost like she was floating in the vast ocean without a buoy, while Livia could only clutch her hand tightly.

What money they had left was only enough to rent a cramped room in an old inn at the edge of town, a place not far from the abyss of nothingness they now faced. The world was getting smaller and more shadowy, and they didn't know where else to go.

The room was far from decent, with damp walls and a musty smell stinging their noses. But it was the only place they could afford.

A determined Livia wandered around the city every morning, looking for work. She would do anything - waitress, shopkeeper, even washerwoman - as long as she could help her mother.

However, fate did not seem to be on her side.

Day after day, she returned home empty-handed, greeted by her mother's wistful gaze and the increasingly suffocating atmosphere of her guesthouse room.

Rejection after rejection made Livia's spirit slowly fade. Despair began to gnaw at her heart. Was she destined to live a miserable life after her father's departure? Would she never be able to make her mother happy again?

One afternoon, Livia sat pensively on a bench in the city park, looking at the children running around happily as if their world was entirely of colour.

Livia bit her lip, trying to keep the tears from falling. The memories just came to her- too vivid, too alive in her mind.

Looking at the children, Livia remembered the warmth and joy of the morning of her birthday...

One month ago...the morning sun greeted us warmly, spreading its rays throughout Ravenhold.

In a simple yet beautiful house, the aroma of freshly baked blueberry cake wafted from the kitchen, tickling the senses and awakening hunger.

It was a special day, the day Livia turned 20 years old. In the dining room, the table was set with a pastel-coloured cloth decorated with a vase of cheerful daisies.

With her golden brown hair flowing beautifully, Livia excitedly arranged the birthday cake in the centre of the table.

"Mom, the cake is ready!" she exclaimed cheerfully, her eyes twinkling. A middle-aged woman with red hair came out from behind the kitchen door.

A gentle smile was etched on her face, radiating a comforting warmth. "Wow, your cakes are getting prettier and prettier, Livia," she praised, walking over to Livia and giving her daughter a loving peck on the forehead.

"Your father must be proud to see you grow up to be such a clever and kind girl."

"Ah, you could be," Livia replied, her cheeks rosy. "I was just trying out a new recipe I found in my grandmother's cookbook."

"Your grandmother was a good cook," her mother recalled, her gaze distant, as if lost in memories. "Her blueberry cake was always a staple at every family event."

"Mom, did grandma ever tell you about Ravenhold?" asked Livia, curiosity sparkling in her clear eyes. Livia's question made the smile on her mother's face fade. She was silent momentarily, her delicate fingers gently stroking Livia's cheek.

"Ravenhold?" Her mother repeated as if hearing the name for the first time. "Ah, I think Grandmother only ever told me about the village where she grew up. Honey, can you get your father? This cake will be even better if we eat it together."

Livia frowned, surprised by her mother's reaction."Okay, Mom," she replied obediently, though curiosity still niggled at her heart. She moved away from the dining table to her father's study on the second floor.

Rhysand Vane's study always felt warm and cosy, with the faint scent of old wood and beer wafting up from downstairs, where he usually worked.

The walls were lined with wooden shelves filled with books, ranging from classic novels to thick encyclopedias. An ancient world map hung neatly in the corner of the room, showing exotic places that might only exist in dreams.

Behind a sturdy mahogany table was a tray of leftover cookies and two glasses. One glass contained leftover beer and the other contained water. Rhysand must have just enjoyed his leisure time before returning to work.

"Dad," Livia called softly," I've prepared your favourite blueberry cake."Rhysand turned his head, a warm smile spread across his face that was beginning to be dotted with the fine lines of time.

His blond-brown hair was slightly messy, adding a warm, earthy feel to his figure.

"Ah, my beautiful daughter has grown into a big girl," she greeted, rising from her chair and approaching Livia. "Twentieth birthday, isn't it?"

"Yes, Father," Livia replied, her cheeks blushing under her father's gentle peck on her forehead.

"You know, Livia," Rhysand whispered, his eyes twinkling meaningfully," your mother was also excellent at your age. Even more beautiful than any painting."

Livia was stunned, sensing a hint of longing in her father's voice. "Father often told me about your past," she said softly," but Mother... Mother seemed reluctant to discuss it."

Rhysand sighed softly, his gaze distant, as if looking back at the memories neatly stored in the recesses of his heart.

"The past is not always pretty to look back on, Livia," he said softly," but believe me, your mother loved you very much. You are the most precious treasure in her life."

"I know, Father," Livia replied, understanding the turmoil in her father's heart. "But... sometimes I feel like you're hiding something.

Especially about Grandma. I don't even know her full name."Rhysand paused, his sturdy fingers rubbing his chin, adorned with a thin beard, a sign that he was deep in thought. He sighed long as if a heavy weight was crushing his chest.

"Livia," he said, things might be too complicated for you to understand right now. Your mother's past... is full of shadows we should not revisit."

"Shadows?" repeated Livia, her curiosity piqued. "What shadows, Father?"

Rhysand paused, his gaze drifting to the painting on his desk. It was a painting of himself by Isolde when they first met.

At first glance, the painting looked ordinary. However, Rhysand could see his reflection in the painting, a wolf with pitch-black fur howling under a blood-red moon.

"Father?" called Livia, breaking Rhysand's reverie. "What's wrong?"Rhysand gasped, hurriedly taking his eyes off the painting. "No... it's fine," he replied, trying to smile. "We'd better get downstairs. Your mother must be waiting."

"All right, Father," Livia replied, though curiosity still niggled at her heart. She knew there were times when she had to be patient and wait for the right time.

Livia and Rhysand went downstairs to the dining room, where Isolde had prepared an appetising breakfast. The aroma of warm chamomile tea and the fragrance of toast and raspberry jam create a cosy and loving morning atmosphere.

"Happy birthday, my dear," Isolde said, welcoming Livia with a warm hug. "May you always be blessed with happiness and good fortune on your 20th birthday."

"Thank you, Mother," Livia replied, her heart warmed by her parents' love. Breakfast that morning was filled with laughter and family warmth. Rhysand excitedly told funny stories about Livia as a child, making Isolde and Livia laugh out loud.

After breakfast, Rhysand gave Livia a special gift: a leather-bound sketchbook engraved with her initials. "I know you like to draw a lot, Livia," Rhysand said as she handed over the book," I hope this book will help you capture more of your imagination."Livia accepted the book with sparkling eyes. "

"Thank you, Father," she said, hugging Rhysand tightly. "I love it so much!"

"Well, I don't have any special gifts," Isolde chuckled," But I've cooked all your favourite foods for dinner tonight. How's that?"

"Wow, seriously, Mom?" exclaimed Livia enthusiastically. "You're the best mom in the world!"

The next afternoon, their house was filled with excitement. Livia's close friends came to celebrate her birthday. There was laughter, music, and the smell of freshly baked blueberry cake. Livia felt very happy, surrounded by people she loved.

Amid the festivities, a phone call broke the joy. Rhysand frowned when he saw the caller's name on his cell phone screen.

"Sorry, I have to answer the phone for a moment," he said to Livia before moving away from the crowd. Rhysand's initially bright face slowly paled when he heard the panicked voice from the other side. He staggered back, his hands shaking as he held the phone.

Now, in a world of loneliness and emptiness, Livia felt the weight of the world without her father by her side. Tears streamed down her cheeks, soaking the crumpled job application letter in her hand.

She missed her happy childhood when she still had everything. Suddenly, a shadow blocked the afternoon sunlight shining on her face. Livia raised her head, and in that instant, her breath caught.

In front of her stood a middle-aged woman with an elegant aura and piercing eyes. Her clothes were simple, but the way she stood exuded class and authority.

An owl-shaped brooch encrusted with green gemstones poked out from beneath the silk scarf around her neck, adding to her mysterious air. Livia was transfixed, unable to utter a single word. She felt as if she was drowning in the woman's mysterious eyes.

There was a strange familiarity as if she had met the woman before, but she could not remember when or where. A faint smile spread across the woman's lips as if she could read Livia's mind. "I'm sorry, child. I didn't mean to frighten you," she said in a husky, soothing voice.

"My name is Evelyn Winterbourne. May I sit beside you?" Without waiting for an answer, Evelyn gracefully took her place beside Livia. She took out a lacy handkerchief from her small bag and offered it to Livia.

"You look tired, child. What's wrong? Livia hesitantly accepted the handkerchief and wiped away her tears. She looked at Evelyn with a questioning gaze. Who was this woman? And what was the purpose of her visit?

As if she could read Livia's mind, Evelyn said, "I know who you are, Livia Vane. And I know what you're going through." Livia's heart skipped a beat. How could this stranger know her and know her problems? There was a mysterious aura surrounding Evelyn, making Livia feel small and vulnerable.

She wanted to leave, but something held her back. She had to know more about this woman.

"Excuse me, but... who are you?" asked Livia hesitantly. "And how do you know my name?"

Evelyn smiled slightly, "I've known your family for a long time, Livia. Your father... Rhysand is an old friend of mine."

Hearing her father's name mentioned, Livia's heart felt like it was being squeezed. She looked at Evelyn expectantly, "Really? You know my father?"

"Yes, dear," Evelyn replied softly. "We worked together once, but it was a long time ago. He never told you about me?"Livia shook her head. She did not recall her father ever mentioning Evelyn's name.

"Never. But... if I may know, what are you doing here? And how did you find me?"Evelyn stared into the distance at the fountain in the centre of the garden as if lost in memories of the past. "I came to help you, Livia. I know you're going through a difficult time. And I'm here to offer you a solution."

"A solution?" asked Livia with a furrowed brow. "A solution to what?"

Evelyn turned to face Livia, her eyes full of meaning. "The solution to all your problems, my dear. The solution to saving your family."

Livia was stunned, looking at Evelyn with a mixture of hope and doubt. "What do you mean?" she asked cautiously. "How can you help us? We've lost everything." Evelyn gently rubbed the back of Livia's hand.

"Don't say that, dear. You still have each other. And that's more than enough to start over." She took a deep breath as if gathering strength before continuing.

"I know who defrauded your father, Livia. And I know how to make them pay." Livia's eyes widened. "You know? Who are they? And how can you prove it?"

"I'll tell you everything in due time, dear," Evelyn replied mysteriously. "But right now, you must trust me. I can help you return everything that has been taken from you. But I need your help, too." Livia felt as if she was at a crossroads. On the one hand, she was hesitant to trust this strange woman.

But on the other hand, she had no other choice. She had to try every opportunity to get justice for her father and save her life with her mother.

"What should we do?" Livia asked in a soft voice. Evelyn smiled with satisfaction. "Good, dear. The right decision. Now, listen to me carefully..."

"Wait." Livia interrupted, her chest pounding erratically. "Before we go any further, could you tell us who you are, and how you can help us?"

Evelyn looked at Livia with an unreadable look in her eyes. "I understand your concern, Livia. But trust me, all will be revealed in due time. All you need to know right now is that I know your father well, even more than you think."

"But..." Livia still wanted to ask further, but Evelyn raised her hand, stopping her. "Be patient, dear. One thing's for sure, I know exactly who's behind all of this. I also know how to make them pay for what they've done to your family."

"Who are they?" Livia urged hopefully. "Tell me who has ruined our lives?"Evelyn shook her head slowly. "Not yet, Livia. I can't say now. What is certain is that they are very dangerous. If they find out I came to see you, the lives of all three of us could be in danger."

Tension gripped Livia's heart. Who exactly was this mysterious woman? And who was the enemy she was referring to? Those questions swirled in her mind, but she knew that pressing Evelyn would only make things more complicated.

"All right, Livia. I'll be honest with you." Evelyn took a deep breath, her gaze turning sad. "I... I am the wife of your uncle, your father's brother-in-law."

Livia was stunned. Uncle? She did have a paternal uncle, but they rarely communicated. She remembered that her father and uncle did not have a good relationship. "Uncle Edgar?" she asked hesitantly.

Evelyn nodded. "Yes, Edgar Vane. We rarely see your family. I travel out of town a lot because of my work. But believe me, Livia, we are very concerned about what happened to your father and the two of you."

"Then... what do you mean by offering a solution?" asked Livia hopefully and questioningly.