A carriage's swift, moving wheels bring the silent night a loud noise. Suddenly, it stops. The coachman then hops off his seat and swings the door open for his passengers to pass.

     The mysterious man seeking the Remaining Podeshire and his fellow men hop off the carriage. Their eyebrows furrow, and their jaws drop, realizing that no house lies at the given address, only empty lots. Confusion strikes them at their back as their heads wander left and right.

     The man glances at the page he ripped off from earlier. He then shakes his head left and right, looking in every direction. But, he only saw nothing but a soulless street between vacant lots.

     Agitated, the man's brows furrow deeper into his nose. As he growls, he rips the page into pieces. He crumbles it before throwing the torn paper into the ground. Then, he begins stomping on them as the wind blows them away.

     Suddenly, the man hears giggling. He squints to his right and sees three teenage ladies strolling on the sidewalk. He hastens towards them, frightening the trio as they halt their steps.

The man acted kind and asked, "Do you ladies know where... block six of Everstreet, section two of Asbranne is?"

The girl in the middle took her courage to answer the ominous stranger. "It is right there, sir..." she replied, pointing a finger at an empty lot. She then added, "But nobody has bought the land yet. No one has even built a house on this street."

     The three teenage ladies walk around the man with their heads facing the concrete floor. As they pass through him, they resume strolling along the sidewalk, mouths tightly shut. Meanwhile, the man looks at the night sky as his lips press together, and his eyes turn as dark as a blank void.

"They faked their address..." the man whispered to himself. "Clever liars..."

     Fourteen years have passed since the assassination of the Podeshire family, leaving only one Remaining Podeshire—Oliver. However, there are no signs of his presence—as if he has vanished from civilization. It leads to everyone pondering about his existence.

     Oliver has grown into a young, attractive man with a slim yet vigorous body. His fiery hair has increased in length, covering his ears and nape as it glints like the warm sunset, and his sharp, keen eyes glow like burning wood. His smooth, fair skin radiates like crystalline illuminated by the soft moonlight.

     The air inside Oliver's bedroom becomes thick and opaque, muffling every sound. The darkness fills every corner of the room until the moonlight beams through the window. It then shines towards Oliver's eyelids, rousing him from his peaceful slumber.

     Oliver moans as he erects from his bed. He then scratches his eyes as he approaches the doorway, leaving his room. He swings the door open, and its creaking noise bounces on the halls. Oliver passes through and closes the door gently.

     Then, Oliver marches across the hallway and descends the stairs. He cuts to the kitchen and prepares breakfast. After the meal, Oliver summons water into the sink and washes the plates stained with sauce. As he rinses the dishes, he looks through the window and sees the garden on the other side.

     Soon, Oliver finds himself in the garden itself. He raises his hands, and the grey leaves regain their colour. Then, the dying plants straighten and produce colourful fruits and flowers.

     Oliver ascends to the second floor and finds dust shrouding every floorboard. He draws his hand back. Then, he slashes his palm across the air, and a light breeze summons from his fingertips and blows the filth away from the floor.

     Later, Oliver grabs a broom and begins sweeping in the lounge. His eyes feel heavy, but he battles the urge to close them. His sleepiness diminishes when he hears a swift knock on the entrance behind him.

     Oliver jumps in surprise. He then turns around and drops the broom onto the floor. Dusting his hands on his white shorts, he approaches the front door and opens it slowly.

"Good morning, Mrs Casalee..." Oliver bowed with a kind smile, his eyelids feeling a massive load.

As Amelia entered the room with papers in her hand, she gave Oliver a concerned look. "Oliver, you are eighteen already, but you keep failing the final exam for the past two years," she said, slightly worried. "Are you sure you can finish it this year, dear?"

"Despite my arduous labour, I still have the time to study and... make my hopes high. I can do it, Miss!" Oliver replied, fighting the urge to yawn.

     Amelia beams at Oliver and hands him the examination paper. Oliver gently grabs it from her hands. Then, he proceeds to a sofa and takes his warm seat as he stares at his test.

     Nearly an hour has passed. Oliver's sweat begins dripping on the paper. He cannot stop looking at the pendulum clock on the wall as the time hastens to noon. Oliver fixes his glance on the test and continues scribbling his answers. As he writes, his hand becomes numb as anxiety fills his veins.

Suddenly, Amelia swiftly snatched the examination paper. "Time's up!" she announced.

     Oliver remains silent while the sound of his heartbeat vibrates on his insides. He rubs his sweaty palms on his shorts as he sighs. He then crosses his arms with his legs spreading out, hoping this time he will pass.

"...Not bad," Amelia grinned as her eyes scanned the examination paper from the top to the bottom. "I see your improvements this year..."

"Uhmm... thanks!" Oliver replied.

As she lowered the test from her face, Amelia glanced at Oliver and said, "Out of fifty items, you've scored forty-six..." Raising her voice from excitement, she revealed, "That means you passed!"

"...Really? T-thank you! Thank you so much, Miss!" Oliver gasped as he shook Amelia's hand.

"Okay, Mr Podeshire. Good job," Amelia giggled as she shook hands with Oliver. She then stood as she peered at the examination paper.

Overhearing their conversation, Layla rushed out of the kitchen and approached Oliver. "Did you pass this time, kid?" Layla asked.

"I did!" Oliver answered with a smile spreading across his face. "Are you proud, Ma'am?"

"Err... yes?" Layla replied, pretending she was proud, even though enthusiasm didn't reach her heart.

Oliver sighed in relief. "...So, what now?" he asked as he glanced at Layla. "What do I do after studying? Just do work the whole day for my entire life...?"

"Maybe. Or... perhaps you must prepare for the next step of life," said Layla.

"Next step of life...?"

"You'll understand it soon enough," Layla stated.

Suddenly, Amelia grabbed Layla's wrist and pulled her outside the household. "Layla! Dear!"

     Oliver watched Layla and Amelia walk through the front door. His eyes winced in surprise when the doorway slammed shut. Oliver then lowered his eyes as he eavesdropped on their muffled conversation.

"Layla, Layla. Since Oliver and my daughter, Sophia, have finished their education, they can get married now, right?" Amelia asked as they stood by the porch.

"Indeed, they can," Layla replied as her eagerness dragged her closer to Amelia.

"...When do we introduce them to each other and arrange the wedding?" Amelia inquired.

"Hmm... how about next year?" Layla suggested.

"Sure, that sounds like a great idea," Amelia nodded as she smiled.

"Oh, I just hope they like each other..." Layla sighed and rolled her eyes.