?Chapter 817:
Ste lifted her eyes, her voice steady. “Grandpa, things between William and me aren’t like what you think. Right now, I just want to focus on my research—and on finding the truth about my adoptive parents. I’m not thinking about anything else.”
She had always been clear about her priorities. If love got in the way of her goals, she would choose her goals without hesitation.
Though William stirred something in her heart, Ste forced herself to bury it. If he truly cared about her, he’d respect her choice.
Karson saw the firm line she drew and knew there was no point in pressing further. He sighed and nodded.<fnab00> For original chapters go to f?i?n?d?n?o?v?e?l?</fnab00>
William’s world was too dangerous. Perhaps it was for the best that Ste wanted no part of it.
“Alright, I won’t push you. Whatever you decide, the Carter family will back you up. It’ste—get some rest.”
He stood, patted her shoulder, and quietly left the room.
Once Karson left, Ste closed the door behind him, but the weight on her chest didn’t lift in the slightest.
A strained smile crossed her lips as thoughts of William pressed in, leaving her with a helpless ache she couldn’t shake.
When she first stepped into the research institute, never had she imagined her life would be so deeply tangled with William.
Ste lingered in thought for a while, then moved to her desk and flipped open herptop, hoping that burying herself in the institute’s experiment reports might steady her mind.
The inbox blinked with new messages. Ste began clicking through them quickly—routine notes about Neb and institute matters, which she skimmed and answered one by one.
But then her gaze froze on a message from an unfamiliar address. Her pulse spiked, dread crawling into her chest. Fingers unsteady, she opened it, and the name that appeared made her blood run cold—Clevnd Russell.
It was the name of her adoptive father, Clevnd Russell.
The email itself was brief, just a handful of lines:
Step into fiction with g ? ln σ ν?? ?s
“Ms. Russell, do you want to know the truth about your adoptive parents’ deaths, and the meaning hidden in the symbols and letters? Come alone to the Neon Haze Bar in the east of the city at ten tomorrow night. Do not bete, or the chance will be gone forever. And do not tell anyone, or you will never uncover the past.”
There was no signature at the end of the email, and Ste’s heartbeat hammered in her chest.
Whoever sent it remained a mystery, and she couldn’t tell if the hand behind those words was reaching out as an ally or luring her as an enemy.
The memory of Amon’s cruel trick with Sharon resurfaced sharply, stirring a deep unease that this, too, might be another borate snare.
Her gaze lingered on the glowing screen, suspicion and doubt flickering in her eyes. Yet the short message gripped her nerves like a vice. For years she had chased after the truth, and now, these few lines felt closer than anything she had ever touched. Even if there was only a sliver of authenticity, she couldn’t risk letting the chance slip away.
Reason whispered that the danger was real, but her emotions drowned out caution. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t summon the cold resolve to ignore it.
.
.
.