Chapter 122: Part two
Raina’s POV
For a time, neither of us spoke.
The sea stretched endlessly before us, its surface shimmering beneath the afternoon sun while the tide rolled in with quiet, unhurried rhythm. Grandfather stood with his hands folded behind his back, his gaze fixed on the horizon as though he could read something written beyond it.
He had always understood the value of silence.
He never hurried people into speaking. He simply waited until they were ready, knowing that most truths lost their meaning when they were forced.
I drew a slow breath, but it did little to settle the unease in my chest.
There was one question I still needed answered.
"There’s something else I want to ask."
He turned his head just enough to acknowledge me.
"Go on."
I held his gaze for a moment before saying the name that had lingered at the back of my mind for far too long.
"Felix."
His expression remained composed.
"What about him?"
My fingers tightened unconsciously around each other.
"What happened to him?"
For the first time since we’d left the house, he looked away from the sea and met my eyes fully.
"I sent him home."
The words were so matter-of-fact that they scarcely seemed real.
I stared at him, convinced I had misheard.
"...You what?"
"I returned him to his family."
A breeze swept across the shoreline, carrying the scent of salt between us, but I barely noticed it.
"You sent Felix home?" I repeated, my voice quieter now. "When?"
"There was no reason to keep him any longer."
His tone was as calm as if we were discussing a completed business transaction.
"The matters that required my attention have been resolved. Keeping the boy in hospital served no further purpose."
I searched his face for the slightest indication that he was withholding something.
There was none.
No hesitation.
No satisfaction.
Only certainty.
Then, without warning, a memory surfaced.
I had remembered the conversation on the phone I overheard from grandpa when I was still in the safe house
"We’re going to have to get rid of him if he becomes a problem."
All these time, I’d been certain those words were about Ethan.
I’d run to Ethan’s house in a panic, convinced his life was in danger.
Now, standing beside my grandfather with the sea at our backs, the truth settled over me with startling clarity.
It had never been Ethan.
He’d been talking about Felix all along.
A breath escaped me before I realized I’d been holding it.
At least he was alive.
The relief came so suddenly it almost made my knees weak.
It lasted only a moment.
Something Grandfather had just said caught up with me.
"Keeping the boy in hospital served no further purpose."
I frowned.
"Wait."
He regarded me patiently.
"You said the doctors told you Felix was brain-dead."
I shook my head, trying to reconcile what I’d heard with what I knew.
"They said there was almost no chance he’d ever wake up."
My eyes searched his.
"So how did you send someone home who wasn’t supposed to wake up?"
"The doctors in Harrington believed he was brain-dead," he replied evenly. "I saw no reason to correct their conclusion."
A chill crept over me.
"What does that mean?"
"When Tengu informed me that the boy had survived, circumstances had already changed."
He turned his attention back to the sea, speaking with the same measured calm he used for everything else.
"The police had begun questioning you about his disappearance. Had Felix regained consciousness then, the investigation would have taken an entirely different direction."
My hands tightened at my sides.
"So you..."
"I had him transferred to Japan where he showed signs of improvement..I couldn’t do anything about him, not like I can lock him up in a cage somewhere and torture him so I instructed the hospital to maintain him in a medically induced coma."
The words were delivered without hesitation, as though they required no defense.
I stared at him.
"For four years?"
"Yes."
The answer was immediate.
No apology.
No attempt to soften it.
"You kept him unconscious for four years?"
"I kept him alive."
His gaze remained fixed on the horizon.
"Those are not the same thing."
The wind swept between us, carrying the scent of salt across the beach.
I folded my arms without realizing it.
Part of me wanted to condemn what he’d done.
Another part understood exactly why he’d done it.
If Felix had awakened while the investigation was still underway way back in college , everything would have unraveled. Whether he remembered the incident clearly or not wouldn’t have mattered. His testimony alone would have dragged the police back to my doorstep.
I hated that I could see the logic.
"What if he remembers?" I asked quietly. "What if everything comes back?"
"The physicians warned that prolonged sedation may have affected portions of his memory. They expect gaps, but they cannot say whether those memories will return."
"And if they do?"
Grandfather allowed the silence to linger.
When he finally answered, his voice was as calm as the tide rolling in behind him.
"Then I will deal with it."
I felt my stomach tighten.
"What does that mean?"
He turned to face me.
"If Felix remembers and becomes a danger to this family, then he ceases to be Felix."
His eyes held mine.
"He becomes a threat."
Another wave broke against the shore.
"And threats," he said quietly, "are dealt with."
The words settled over the beach with a terrible finality.
I opened my mouth, but nothing came.
"I protected you once," Grandfather continued. "If protecting you requires another difficult decision, I will make it."
There was no pride in his voice.
No remorse either.
Only certainty.
I looked at the man who had raised me, and for the first time I understood something I should have realized years ago.
Grandfather never measured his actions by whether they were kind.
Only by whether they were necessary.
And somehow, that frightened me far more than if he had ever claimed to be a good man.