Chapter 10: The Echo of Memory

Simon stared at the girl, momentarily forgetting his search for Clint. He noticed her gaze fixed longingly on a specific spot. Following her eyes, he saw a man standing in the shadows of a large tree. Despite his attempt to hide, his towering height and striking features were unmistakable.

It’s Clint!

The girl was instantly forgotten as Simon charged toward him. His legs throbbed with the muscle pain accumulated from his recent outings, but he didn’t slow down. His sudden dash startled the socialites around him, who had been waiting for a chance to strike up a conversation with the elusive Grayan heir. Clint, noticing the stir, tried to slip away, but Simon was faster. He lunged forward and snatched Clint’s wrist.

“Why are you avoiding me?”

Clint’s green eyes widened in surprise. Does he think that cute expression will work on me? Simon gripped his wrist tighter and glared.

“Avoiding you? Me? Not at all.” Clint denied it smoothly, trying to slide his arm out of Simon’s grasp. Simon only doubled his grip—though his physical strength was so meager it hardly made a difference.

“You’re trying to escape right now.”

“That’s only because your expression is terrifying, Mr. Grayan. Look around. Everyone is staring at us.”

Clint glanced at the crowd, but Simon kept his eyes locked on him, refusing to budge.

“I don’t care about that. If you aren’t avoiding me, why has your office been closed for days?” Simon demanded. Standing before him, the days of sorrow and frustration spent in front of that locked door finally boiled over.

“You came to the office? Ah, that was because of this event. That girl over there asked me to come with her.” Clint pointed to the girl standing alone in the distance.

“But it was closed yesterday. And the day before. And the day before that!”

“That was also because of her. I was helping her prepare at the orphanage.”

“Oh.”

It wasn’t because of me. Simon’s face stiffened with embarrassment. Seeing this, Clint let out a sly grin.

“Did you think I closed my place of business just to avoid you, Mr. Grayan?”

“Well… I…”

“Goodness. Are you perhaps a bit of an egocentric?”

Simon could only gape, his face flushing a deep crimson at Clint’s teasing. He wanted to vanish into the earth. Clint didn’t miss the opening and pulled his arm free.

“I’m glad we cleared up the misunderstanding. I’ll be off then. Master Simon Grayan!”

Clint began to back away. By shouting Simon’s name loudly, he drew the attention of every guest in the vicinity like a magnet.

“Excuse me, are you Master Simon Grayan?” a man nearby asked immediately.

Simon couldn’t ignore him. He had been raised to believe that ignoring a direct greeting was the height of rudeness.

“Ah, yes. Hello, I am Simon Grayan.”

“What a pleasure! I never expected to meet the head of the Grayan house here…”

While Simon was trapped in conversation, Clint vanished. His movements were incredibly swift. Simon watched his retreating back in a daze. When did I lose him? It was only then that he realized Clint had teased him and shouted his name specifically to create a distraction for his escape.

I’ve been played!

He wanted to chase after him immediately, but with every step, more people approached him. News that the “Ghost of Grayan”—who had almost never appeared in public—was at the charity party spread like wildfire. Everyone was eager to secure a connection with the wealthy, elusive heir. By the time Simon could breathe, Clint was nowhere to be found.

I won’t lose you next time!

At this point, it was a matter of pride. For the first time in his life, Simon’s eyes flickered with a hint of obsession.

However, there was nothing he could do for the moment. Clint was hidden, and Simon was surrounded. He exchanged polite, superficial social banter while his eyes scanned the garden for black hair, but he found nothing. The guests’ reactions were so intense that Simon started to feel like an exhibit. They called me a ghost; did they think I was actually dead? he wondered.

Suddenly, a series of loud noises erupted.

THUD! CRACK! SCREAMS!

The large tents set up along the edge of the garden collapsed in succession. In the blink of an eye, the structures were on the ground. Simon turned pale. Like a thick fog lifting, a memory suddenly flashed in his mind.

In his previous life, he had read a newspaper article about a tragic accident at a Polion charity party. During the event, the tents had collapsed. Since it was the peak of the social hour, most guests were in the center of the garden, and it was initially thought that no one was seriously hurt. A few servants were trapped but managed to crawl out.

But there had been one fatality: the girl from the orphanage.

She had been unlucky. She had been standing right next to a support beam when it fell, pinning her down and causing a severe head injury. If she had been rescued quickly, she would have survived. But most people hadn’t even noticed she was missing. By the time someone realized and pulled her out, much time had passed. They waited for a public carriage that arrived too late. The girl died of excessive blood loss.

The article’s point had struck a chord with Simon: dozens of private carriages owned by the wealthy guests were lined up outside, yet because no one offered theirs, a child died waiting for a public one.

And now, that tragedy was unfolding right before his eyes.

“Goodness!” “That gave me a fright. Is everyone alright? Oh, look, the servants are coming out. It seems fine.”

The guests seemed relieved seeing the servants crawl out, assuming it was just a loud but minor mishap. Only Simon, knowing the future, was frozen with horror.

No one realized she’s under there.

Simon scanned the area. The girl was gone. Exactly as the article had described, she was buried beneath the wreckage.

“I apologize for the fright, everyone! We will have this cleared shortly. Please, head inside!” Mr. Polion called out, ushering guests toward the manor. People grumbled about the noise and moved toward the house. Truly, no one remembered the girl.

She was left to die like this.

Simon’s heart ached. It felt too much like his own lonely death. But this time was different. He remembered her. He turned and ran toward the collapsed tents. Moving in the opposite direction of the crowd, he drew startled looks.

In the midst of his dash, he saw someone else running toward the wreckage from the other side.

“Mr. Grayan. Are you…?”

It was Clint. He had emerged from wherever he had been hiding the moment he heard the crash.

“I think she’s under there,” Simon answered breathlessly. He knew interrupting was rude, but every second counted.

The two reached the debris. “It should be around here,” Clint said, pointing to where the girl had been standing. Heavy canvas and decorations were piled over broken wooden beams.

“We need to find her first. Mr. Grayan, look inside.”

Clint threw off his jacket and heaved up a fallen beam that was blocking the way. Simon shoved his body under the thick canvas. It was dark and difficult to see. He pushed further in, not caring that his expensive suit was getting wrinkled and covered in dirt.

Past the broken remains, he saw a white flower. It was crumpled, but it was definitely the one that had decorated the girl’s hair. He squinted and saw a lock of hair nearby.

Simon scrambled out and pointed to the spot. “She’s there!”

“There’s too much to move. We can’t do this alone…”

“What should I do?”

“Ask the others for help.”

“Understood.”

Simon followed the instruction instantly. He knew these people wanted to get close to him. They might ignore Clint, but they wouldn’t ignore a direct request from Simon Grayan.

“Everyone! I am Simon Grayan! Is there anyone who can help me? A young girl is trapped under here!”

As Simon stepped forward, the reaction was instantaneous. Even those who had already reached the manor doors turned back.

“Mr. Mitt! Mr. Morrison! Gentlemen, please help move these beams! Ladies, we need cold water and towels! And Mr. Polion, please have my carriage brought around immediately so we can get her to the hospital! There is no time! Hurry!”

Simon raised his voice. He remembered reading that in emergencies, calling out specific people is more effective than a general plea. He was glad he had introduced himself to those men earlier.

His strategy worked. The men he called by name stepped forward, albeit hesitantly at first, and soon a crowd of men joined in. The people who had been merely spectating were now moving according to Simon’s orders.

With so many hands, the rescue was swift. They pulled the girl from under the beams and applied pressure to her wounds with wet towels. Servants brought a stretcher and rushed her to Simon’s waiting carriage. Simon and Clint jumped in and raced toward the hospital.

“Oh… goodness…”

Simon sat huddled in a corner of the hospital hallway. People passing by gave curious looks to the gentleman in fine, but now ruined, evening wear. He noticed the stares but couldn’t bring himself to care. His body ached from the sprinting, and his head spun from the adrenaline.

I should have remembered sooner…

If he had, he might have stopped it before it happened. Simon leaned his head against the wall, filled with self-reproach.

Hi readers this is your TL Aaron hoping you all are enjoying this novel 🙂