Ethan’s body was broken from interrogations, but he didn’t even lie down to rest. Instead, he went door to door through law offices.
“Sorry, but please try somewhere else.”
“At least hear the details before you decide.”
“We’re too busy. We can’t take another case.”
Slam.
No one wanted to take his grandfather’s defense. He understood intuitively—it wasn’t about the money. They were afraid of the Duke of Kentrell.
He went to the neighboring town, but they shut the door there too. He had to admit it: finding a lawyer anywhere near Kentrell was impossible. In the end, he returned home empty-handed.
Becky and Tom fell into despair when they learned he hadn’t found one. Becky’s swollen eyes—which had sparked with hope when Ethan returned—went hollow again.
“Then I’ll…”
She, too, was contemplating something desperate. Ethan cut her off.
“Don’t worry. There’s someone who can save the Captain.”
“You said everyone refused? The duke won’t let this go. Who’s going to save Grandfather now?”
There was one person even the tyrant of Cliffhaven couldn’t touch.
“Father.”
Becky didn’t object. On the contrary, her face brightened. She must have secretly regretted their mother’s death too—dying because they had no money for treatment.
When their mother’s life had hung by a thread, Ethan had thought of the father he’d abandoned, just as he was doing now. But back then, he’d chosen not to betray her will—to keep his conscience, even at the cost of her life.
After that, he hadn’t contacted his father not only out of pride, resentment, or guilt.
Then why did Mom have to die such a pointless death?
He was afraid that re-establishing contact would torment him forever with irreversible regret.
But wasn’t he already tormented? If his grandfather stayed in prison, he’d just have one more regret.
He was sick of living like an idiot—silently enduring, then regretting. Fortunately, this time the decision wasn’t his alone. This time, it was Ethan’s.
“Ah… we should have asked Father for help from the start…”
Becky sprang to her feet, hope shining in her voice.
“Father’s phone number or address should be in Grandfather’s study.”
“Let’s search together.”
The moment the three of them opened the door to head to the lighthouse, a police car stopped outside the house. Ethan snapped at the officer who got out of the driver’s seat and walked straight toward him:
“What now?”
They’d come again—to ransack the house for evidence or bombard him with shameless questions under the guise of investigation. He was sure they were here to torment him.
But this officer wasn’t like the ones in the interrogation room. He didn’t act arrogantly. He politely removed his cap, pressed it to his chest, and said with a grieving face:
“Jeremiah Robinson… hanged himself in his holding cell.”
“What?..”
“What do you mean? Grandfather’s fine, right? Please!”
The officer couldn’t meet Becky’s tearful gaze as she clung to him. He looked down.
“Rest in peace.”
Each time the coffin lowered into the dug grave, his heart plummeted into the abyss. When the coffin reached the bottom, Ethan—who had remained silent the whole time—spoke his farewell in a parched voice:
“Goodbye… Captain.”
The farewell, filled with more pauses than words, ended. He tossed a handful of earth onto the coffin. He pressed his lips tightly together again, barely holding back tears. Grandfather can’t leave worrying about me.
Becky said her farewell next. Tom led her to the grave—she had just been discharged from the hospital after collapsing from the shock of the news.
“H-hic…”
Instead of farewell words, Becky let tears fall onto Grandfather’s coffin along with the earth.
Other mourners followed, throwing earth and roses, but the procession ended quickly. If he hadn’t been falsely accused of murder, the line of people wanting to say goodbye would have stretched far beyond the cemetery gates. He was a man who deserved to leave surrounded by love and the farewells of many.
Even the few who came dispersed when the grim gray sky began to weep with them. Tom opened the umbrella he’d brought and sheltered Becky. He offered another to Ethan, but Ethan shook his head.
Ethan welcomed the rain. Now he could cry all he wanted, and Grandfather wouldn’t know.
I’m sorry. Grandfather didn’t deserve to leave like this—in vain and alone.
“Where would a lighthouse keeper go? My dream is to breathe my last right here, looking at the sea.”
Ethan had always imagined the Captain’s final hour just like that—full of dignity.
But instead, he had been forced to take his own life in a gray-walled prison, unable to see the sea he’d loved his whole life, taking the blame for a crime he didn’t commit. To stop the investigation that was tightening a noose around his grandson’s neck, to end the Kentrell family’s persecution.
You’re the criminal! You just paid for your sins!
He ground his teeth, staring at Kentrell Castle, where Harry must have been buried. The graves of the worthless were drowning in the castle’s shadow. Even in death, Grandfather lay at the Kentrells’ feet. Rage boiled.
He cursed everyone—the dead tyrant and the tyrant still alive. He wanted to force the duke to his knees and restore Grandfather’s good name. But in his current position, revenge was an unaffordable luxury.
Ethan gave the Captain one last salute in the pouring rain.
“I swear, Captain. I will protect Becky.”
To do that, they had to get far away from this deadly cliff. The three of them decided to leave Cliffhaven today, on the last train.
I’ve given up on the dream I shared with Eve. But love… foolishly, I still can’t give that up.
Going back for love would be suicide. And it wouldn’t just hurt him—it would hurt Becky. Ethan had already lost too much.
I have to surrender now. Now. Yes, only now.
“Time to go.”
The moment they left Grandfather in the cold ground and stepped outside the cemetery, officers stopped them.
“What now?”
The officers averted their gazes awkwardly and reluctantly pulled out handcuffs.
“Ha. You want to arrest me again? The murder investigation is closed. What’s the charge?”
The senior-ranking officer cleared his throat and read the charge with a guilty look:
“Mr. Ethan Fairchild, you are arrested on suspicion of kidnapping and false imprisonment of Lady Evelyn Sherwood.”
“Ha-ha.”
Ethan laughed, even though this was no time for laughter.
So he really did file a lawsuit over that?
If an official investigation started, the case would hit the newspapers. It would be the Duke of Kentrell himself announcing to the entire country that the Kentrell Maiden had been kidnapped by a gang leader’s son and subjected to “all sorts of things.”
Would it really make him feel better to destroy Ethan, even if it meant selling out his own daughter’s honor? The Sherwoods were definitely all crazy.
Ethan accepted it, but Becky didn’t. Staggering, she wedged herself between her brother and the officers.
“Will the duke only be satisfied when all of us are dead? This is your fault!”
Becky exploded with rage. Ethan was terrified she’d collapse again.
“Becky, it’s fine. I have proof it’s not true. They’ll release me soon.”
He knew that against the duke, no truth could defeat lies. Ethan lied to his sister to calm her down and handed her to Tom.
“Go home. If I’m delayed, leave first.”
Behind Ethan, who obediently followed the officers, a despairing cry tore through the curtain of rain.
“The Sherwoods all deserve to die!”
The sun had long risen, but Eve still hadn’t gotten out of the attic bed. She had no strength. Ever since she’d heard that Mr. Robinson had hanged himself, she couldn’t swallow anything.
He really had taken the blame in Ethan’s place. He’d killed himself as a suspect to stop the investigation—because if it proceeded officially, they’d find out he wasn’t the real killer.
The fact that Mr. Robinson had the murder weapon only strengthened Eve’s conviction that Ethan was the real killer.
At the cost of his grandfather’s life, Ethan had saved his own. He wouldn’t have wanted that.
I wonder if right now, like me, he’s tormented by guilt and self-loathing?
Mr. Robinson died because Ethan killed Harry. Ethan killed Harry because Harry wouldn’t stop tormenting him. And Harry could only torment Ethan because Eve hadn’t strangled that devil with her umbilical cord in the womb.
“I’m sorry…”
Eve took out the ring they hadn’t taken from her yet and looked at it. She apologized to the person who had given her this ring—wishing Ethan a happy future.
I don’t dare wear this ring anymore. Eve was from the family that had driven the Captain to his death. This ring was no longer just a symbol of love or a lucky charm for her. It was the mark of original sin. The weight of that sin was heavier than love.
She hid the engagement ring again. Now only one gold ring remained on her hand. She thought of the man who had bought it.
“Ethan…”
She was going crazy with the desire to see him. She didn’t know what words to start with or what feelings to pour out when they met—but she knew she had to see him.
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