Chapter 92 ~ A box
ATHENA
My breath catches.
"What?" | whisper. My fingers tighten around the strap of my bag as suspicion, curiosity, and confusion tangle in
my chest.
"That doesn't make sense..." What kind of task?"
He doesn't smile, but there's something soft in his eyes. "They knew you'd be here at one point. Your mother
planned this visit down to the year. She said you'd cwhen you were ready."
| stare at him, finding the whole ideal ridiculous, "I have been coming here every year-"
"Except last year." He interrupts me, and my heart jumps to my throat.
Is he a stalker?
Everything insidescreams to be cautious, but something else, a deeper pull, urgesforward. The way he
said their names.
The certainty in his voice
Call it a hunch or stupidity, but I feel like | can trust him.
"Where are we going?" | ask, my voice quieter now.
He exhales slowly, almost like he's relieved I didn't walk away. "Just a short walk. There's a box... in my car. Your
parents left it for you."
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| hesitate for a beat longer, then slowly nod, my heart pounding loud in my ears. This is how people end up dead.
"Okay,” | say, my voice sounding more stable than | feel. "But if this is skind of-"
"It's not," he cuts in gently. "You'll understand soon, Athena."
For someone who has faced death twice, I'm pretty good at making dumb decisions.
As | follow him down the cemetery path, leaves crunching beneath our steps, | can't help but feel like my life is
about to change.
The man stops beside an old black sedan parked beneath the shade of an oak tree.
Its paint is faded, but the windows gleam, and something about the car feels... creepy, like it's been waiting here
in secret just as long as he has.
He opens the trunk carefully and pulls out a medium-sized box wrapped in aged leather and secured with a brass
lock.
"This was kept safe for ten years," he says, placing the box gently on the hood of the car. "Just like they asked
| stare at it, my heart racing, unsure whether to reach for it or run.
Running seems like a smart idea.
But I'm feeling pretty much the opposite, so instead of running, | open my mouth.
"Who are you?" | finally ask, my voice trembling. "Why you? Why not family? A lawyer? Someone | actually
knew?"
The man glances at me, then back at the box. "Because | was never supposed to be known. Your parents hired
insurance policy."
He chuckles lightly, though there's no humor in it. "I wasn't in the family photos, Athena. | was behind them.
Always watching. Always protecting. You didn't knowbecause you weren't supposed to."
My mind reels. A hidden bodyguard? A secret task? Why now?
He continues, his eyes growing distant. "They were working on something: revolutionary. A drug
that could stop hereditary heart et
disease in its tracks. One injection, and it could reset the heart's rhythm permanently. No surgeries. No pills for
life. Just one shot.”
| stare at him, stunned. "That's... impossible."
"It wasn't," he says quietly. "They did it. They succeeded. But the people funding it? They saw dollar signs, not
Your parents wanted it to
go public, make it affordable, accessible. The investors didn't. They wanted control, patents, and profits. When
your parents refused to give it up..."
"They were killed," | whisper, the truth slamming intolike a tidal wave.
He doesn't answer, but his silence is enough.
My knees go weak. | lean against the car, the air aroundspinning.
"They toldit was a flood accident."
"They did go to help out during the floods, but their enemies saw an opportunity and had them poisoned so it
could look like they drowned." he says gently.
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"To protect you and to keep you from digging too soon, | stayed in the shadows and watched the Kings take you
under their wings."
My heart stops at the mention of the King name. He probably knows | married Alex and got divorced.
Swallowing the shame, | press a trembling hand to my chest.
"Why now? Why givethis now?"
"Because today marks exactly ten years," he replies. "And because you're not the sgirl you were
back then. You're on your way tonet
becoming a surgeon now. You've seen death. Saved lives. You're ready for what's inside this box."
| glance down at it, the weight of ten years pressing against my chest. My fingers
hover over the brass lock.
"What's in it?" | ask.
"Everything they left behind," he says. “Notes. Formulas. Warnings. And a choice." My heart stutters.
"A choice?"
"To pick up where they left off... or let it die with them."
The wind shifts around us, cool and still. | look down at the box, then up at the
man whose n| still don't know. As | reach for the box, he looksin the eye and says,
"Your enemies are never far away. You can't trust anyone with this information. Do you understand?"
| bite my lip and nod.