The One Who Arrived Instead
Tyson Family.
Night had quietly descended over the Tyson household.
The courtyard lanterns hanging beneath the wooden corridors swayed gently under the evening wind, casting moving shadows across stone pathways and old trees planted decades ago by the family's ancestors. The distant sounds of insects mixed with the rustling leaves, creating a strange calmness.
But beneath that calmness, unease lingered.
After returning home with everyone, Yana Tyson explained the situation to her father.
Wren Tyson sat silently in the main hall.
The tea in front of him had already gone cold.
Thin wisps of steam had long disappeared, leaving only a quiet chill in the porcelain cup.
His fingers lightly tapped the armrest while listening.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
The sound wasn't loud.
Yet in the quiet hall, it somehow felt unusually heavy.
