A quiet morning vanished without a trace.
Without making a sound, Mok stood outside the room where Toffee lay unconscious.
The entrance burst open, startling a few monks who wore unusual, multi-colored bracelets.
Sweat soaked through their orange robes, clinging to their skin, yet their steps remained perfectly silent and steady.
Mok caught a fleeting glimpse of Nut standing up, his grim expression mirroring the monks'.
On the other side, Toffee lay on a large bed, his skin even paler than the day before.
More monks filed past, carrying aged wooden boxes that gave off a heavy scent of lotuses. Caught off guard by Mok's presence, Nut quickly pushed him back and shut the door.
Anxious and confused, Mok questioned a few servants, but they shut him out completely, rushing off in silence.
Giving up, he went outside and sat on a weathered bench. There, in the quiet garden, his mind kept replaying the incident at the pond.
"It's all my fault... It's all my fault... It's all my fault..."
The words echoed endlessly in his head.
A handful of leaves shaped like tiny raindrops drifted down onto his lap, but something else caught his eye.
"Is that a kid... or not?" Whispering to himself, Mok followed the strange child, unable to leave them alone. Still, he struggled to keep up as the white ribbon knotted on the youngster fluttered in the air.
Panting, Mok came to a halt.
The sound of the running child had vanished. He gasped for air, his fingers brushing the wound on his throat. "Damn... Where did that kid go?"
Scanning his surroundings, he frowned.
"Where am I? Is there even a place like this here?"
He could no longer see the bench where he had been sitting, nor could he recognize the path that brought him to this spot.
"A house inside a mansion... I know they're rich, but still... From the beginning, something about this place hasn't felt right. The scar I got... I'm not imagining things. It's something else."
A sharp headache throbbed through his skull, making his body grow heavy. Mok groaned in frustration. "I felt someone stab me... Am I going crazy? Just what kind of mess are we in?"
Snapping back to reality, he forced himself to move. His bare feet stepped toward an old building standing in the middle of the vast garden.
Green vines climbed the walls, wrapped around the pillars, and tangled across parts of the ground. A moldy scent lingered in the air, mixing with the fragrance of blooming flowers.
His weak footsteps crossed the cold stone tiles. With a loud creak, the front door yielded to his touch.
Darkness greeted him.
Not a trace of fresh air filtered through the tightly shut windows. Every curtain was drawn, making the spacious hall feel incredibly gloomy.
Step by step, he ventured deeper inside.
Dust gathered beneath his feet, making him cough. He waved his hand to clear the air.
The room was completely empty of furniture, yet the silhouette before him felt oddly familiar.
He approached it.
The white cloth covering the canvas slipped to the floor, sending dust swirling through the air.
Words failed him.
"T-Toffee..."
Calling his friend's name, he hurriedly uncovered the rest of the paintings.
"I always wondered... How did Artit know Toffee so well? I just thought it was a coincidence and ignored it."
Taking out his phone, he scrolled through old files for a long time.
"I think this one was from his piano competition... Thank god Mae Thara sent these over. And this one was our last family trip... Even the clothes match perfectly."
He compared the pictures on his phone with the artwork. Some were painted in different styles, featuring old-fashioned clothing, jasmine gardens, and a pond identical to the one on the property. But what caught his attention most was a portrait of Toffee in a traditional red dress.
A noise came from the staircase.
Mok faced the sound instantly as he tossed aside the last dusty cloth.
Artit was on the stairs, his frame covered in tattered clothes. His hair and beard were a tangled mess, leaving his features hidden in the dim light.
He sounded weak, yet his words were sharp. "Who said you could come here? Get out."
But Mok had no intention of listening.
Closing the small gap between them, he lunged without hesitation and threw a punch.
The blow landed hard against Artit's cheek, sending him sprawling. He made no effort to defend himself, as if he simply lacked the energy to care.
Mok instantly pinned him, striking Artit's face once more. He was about to deliver a third punch, but his trembling fingers froze halfway.
"I'm only letting you go because of him." Grabbing Artit's collar, Mok hauled him close, his furious words slamming into the older boy. "If he doesn't wake up, I don't care who you are... You'll pay for it."
He let go.
Artit collapsed with a heavy thud.
Mok stood up and stormed out without a single parting look.
He didn't care where he was going, oblivious to the loud rattling that followed his retreat.
His shoulder clipped a pillar, forcing him to lean against the support as he gasped for air. "He deliberately chose to look pathetic... I'm sure of it. Stalker..."
Grumbling under his breath, he slowly slid down until he sank onto the grass.
Nearby, a pale figure in worn-out clothes observed him. The ribbon on the youngster was now withered. Colorless lips parted, murmuring, "Mok... go to... Toffee...
"Did I just hear...? Forget it. I have to return..."
As Mok left the garden, his instincts guided him seamlessly onto the right path. The figure followed him with her eyes, raising an arm as if to shield him. "Protect your..."
Before the thought could finish, she faded away like floating jasmine petals.
In front of the main house, Kao was busy helping Auntie Ja alongside Rak.
"Mok!" Spotting him from a distance, Kao ran over.
"Where did you go? You said you wanted some fresh air, but you went alone... Your wrist..." Panic filled his voice. "Rak! Can you bring the first-aid kit?"
"Khap!" Rak instantly sprinted away.
Deep worry clouded Auntie Ja's features. Her hands hovered over Mok's wound, but Kao intervened to reassure her.
Just then, a phone buzzed.
"Kao... You should answer that. It must be important," Mok said.
Biting his lip, Kao nearly threw his phone away. "It's not important, Mok. We can just ignore it."
Mok cuffed Kao's head in response.
"We've got it." Mok nudged him toward the doorway. "Go answer it."
"Wait, Mok... Let me stay with you..."
Kao was still protesting as he reluctantly went outside.
Mok spoke to the other boy. "Thank you... Phi Rak."
"It's okay. But don't call me Phi. Just call me Rak."
"But aren't you older than me?"
"I don't mind. Come on, let's sit down in the hall so I can clean your wound." Holding his wrist, Rak led him over to the sofa. Relieved, Auntie Ja returned to her chores.
"Ow... It stings."
"I'm an expert at this," Rak chirped. "Let me tell you... P'Nut, Artit, and Kao are always naughtier than you think."
Rak's rambling finally won a small laugh from Mok. "I can't imagine Kao hitting anyone."
"Mok..." Rak murmured while wrapping the area. "You must be hurting. It's natural to have so many questions, but sometimes it's better if we don't know everything. It keeps you free."
He paused, fastening the bandage securely. "But don't worry. Toffee will be okay. He's just in a heavy sleep, searching for a part of himself... Someday, he'll tell you."
"He doesn't need to," Mok interrupted.
Rak blinked in surprise.
"Just like you mentioned, I have so many questions... but I'm his family and his friend. That's enough."
They exchanged a quiet, understanding nod.
Just then, a shadow fell across the open doorway, where Kao was about to smash his phone. Definitely K9... Judging by his irritated posture, Ren was stirring up another round of track trouble.
Rising from the soft sofa, Mok headed upstairs to lie down in Kao's room.
Rak silently watched him leave. "I'm actually jealous of Toffee... He has a family. When was the last time Father cared about me..."
A warm hand rested on Rak's shoulder.
Auntie Ja stood beside him, communicating through sign language. Her scarred fingers asked, "Son... what's wrong? I made your favorite porridge. Come."
"Oh, I forgot... I have a family now."
Rak smiled faintly and linked his arm through Auntie Ja's smaller side, walking with her toward the warm kitchen.
Inside, preparations for another meal were already underway.
The sunlight that had once illuminated the house had completely disappeared.
Every curtain and window downstairs was now closed.
Click!
Auntie Ja glanced toward the overhead lights. After switching them on, she quietly returned to Rak, thinking about how quickly another day had passed.
She was a mother who had lost her child at birth...
For little Artit, she always prayed.
Her soft pats and every meal she served with love were enough to sustain this mansion... and her sons.
Far away, in a dorm—Holding her blanket tight, Bua started crying out.
From the other bed, Nene took off her headset to hear the noise.
She looked over, seeing her friend drenched in sweat and mumbling.
"Bua... Bua... Bua..."
Opening her eyes with terror, Bua clutched Nene's arm.
"You're okay, you were yelling in your sleep," she breathed. "I shook you a little bit to wake you. Drink some water."
"I'm okay," Bua replied. "You can go back to bed."
Bua urged her away, wondering, "Why am I having the same dream again and again? And why can't I see their faces...?"
Exhaling slowly, she went to the bathroom for a cold shower as she always did.