Seamus sat at the table, fidgeting with his fingers behind the menu stand.

This restaurant used to feel warm. Back then it was always loud with university students typing, laughing, drinking cheap coffee as if sleep wasn't real.

Today it was silent.

The cooks had changed. The waiters had changed. The air felt colder, the coffee tasted more bitter than he remembered.

It was unsettling to see a place filled with warm memories transformed into something foreign, as if he had walked into a cheap imitation of what used to be real.

"The person we're with is indeed more important than the place," he murmured under his breath.

"Huh? What did you say?" Diane asked.

She sat beside him, shifting in her seat like she was ready to bolt at any moment.

She was uncomfortable too. Andrew had asked to meet at noon, but they arrived too early, and now the anticipation was eating them alive.

"Nothing," Seamus said. He breathed in slowly. "This place just feels different."

"I can tell." Diane glanced around, tapping her nails against her thigh.

"Should I just go? I'd honestly feel uncomfortable if your father shows up. Isn't this supposed to be a family thing?"

"Don't go. Please." Seamus reached out and grabbed her arm before she could stand.

"I don't know what to say to him. If you leave, I might just walk out."

"What makes you think I can break the ice?" she whispered harshly.

"We should have brought Leah. She never shuts up. She'd talk so much your dad wouldn't even get a chance to be emotional."

Diane sighed and pressed a hand to her chest, trying to calm herself. "I'm just as anxious as you. And I'm not even the one who rejected him."

"Hey, he deserved it. He rejected me first. Pretty much my whole life."

A throat cleared in front of them.

Both of their heads turned slowly, as if afraid of what they would see.

Andrew was standing there.

Diane leaned closer and whispered, "This is even more awkward than I imagined."

Andrew sat down across from them without a single word.

The silence dragged on until it felt heavy enough to press on all three of them.

Father and son kept stealing glances at anything but each other, which only made Diane's patience thin by the second.

Eventually, she reached into Seamus' jacket, pulled out the small vial of silver liquid, and pushed it toward Andrew.

"Give this to Maria. She'll turn into a scavenger in less than twenty-four hours if she doesn't take it."

Andrew accepted it quietly, murmured a thank-you, and slipped it into his shirt pocket. When he looked up again, Diane pinched Seamus sharply on the thigh under the table.

"Talk to him properly," she muttered.

Seamus let out a slow breath and forced himself to look at his father. What he saw made him pause. Andrew looked nothing like the man sealed in his memories.

Dark circles weighed down his eyes as if he had forgotten how sleep worked. The wrinkles around his face had deepened, and several strands of brown hair had turned silver.

The change unsettled him. It felt like he was staring at someone who had aged the way people do when life keeps hitting them without letting them get back up.

"Seamus, you were right. Your eyes look like your mother's."

Andrew's voice cracked slightly, maybe from smoke, maybe from something heavier.

"She loved cooking, but she was terrible at baking. She would dance randomly in our living room, and she always pulled you into her arms even when you could barely stand on your own."

His gaze dropped. "I'm sorry. I should have introduced you to her sooner. You deserved to know how amazing she was."

Andrew smiled, but the pain behind it was too clear. His eyes looked ready to spill everything he'd failed to say for years, and that vulnerability twisted something in Seamus' chest.

He inhaled deeply. His feelings toward Andrew remained a mess of resentment and reluctant affection. Part of him wanted his father gone forever.

Another part knew that losing him would shatter what little he pretended not to care about.

"It's fine," Seamus finally said. "You can still tell me now. And later too."

Andrew's expression softened, and the dullness in his eyes brightened with a fragile hope.

"Thank you, Seamus."

They shared a quiet understanding after that. Seamus wasn't cutting his father off. Not completely.

But he also knew he couldn't stay close. Maybe not ever. Staying near each other would only drag them both down again.

Still, for the first time in years, the distance didn't feel like a wall. It felt like something they could cross when they were finally ready.

"I'll be leaving Bork soon, and I think it's best if we go our separate ways. You don't have to worry about me. I'm an adult."

"I understand," Andrew replied. "I won't stop you from choosing your own path. Just don't regret it. And if you need help, you can always tell me. I'll do what I can."

Seamus hesitated. He did have a request, but the words refused to leave his mouth. Diane noticed immediately.

"Then help us," she said. "We need someone to find the Crest of the Emblem of Enigma of Corvane in the north. Since we're heading east next, it's too far for us."

Andrew rubbed his jaw. "I don't mind, but I don't think my savings will cover a trip that far, especially near a warzone. It'll be difficult to survive out there."

"You don't have to worry about that. There's a large orphanage owned by Velstrath in the north. You can stay there, and I'll make sure my mother handles everything you and Maria need."

"They also offer special training, and there's a vampire who can help with her growth."

Andrew looked uneasy the moment she mentioned Velstrath and her mother. Seamus knew exactly why.

Disliking Isolde was practically a universal experience. Still, they needed the help badly.

Before Seamus could speak, Andrew inhaled slowly and answered.

"All right. But I want her black card and a new Mustang. And I'm not taking commercial flights."

Seamus snorted under his breath. It was the kind of petty revenge he wished he had thought of first.

Diane barely blinked. "A black card won't even touch one percent of our wealth. So it's a deal." She offered her hand, and Andrew shook it.

They talked for a while longer about Maria's condition. According to Andrew, she was stable.

Thirsty, but not dangerous. She refused to drink blood, locked herself in dark rooms, and barely moved.

Seamus rubbed his temples. "Should I talk to her?"

"That'll make things worse," Diane said immediately.

"Andrew, you need to make her drink that silver blood. Even if you have to force it."

"I know. You don't have to tell me twice. She still has a long way to go."

By the time the discussion ended, all three of them looked lighter, as if something heavy had finally loosened its grip on their shoulders.

Andrew was the first to go as he needed to give blood to Maria immediately also because of barrages of calls from who knows.

Leaving Diane and Seamus as they reached the parking lot, she nudged him. "See? Having a proper conversation isn't that hard."

Seamus rolled his eyes. "I know. It just takes a little courage."

She grinned, triumphant, then suddenly stiffened. "Wait. My wallet. I left it inside. Stay here, Seamus."

She rushed back toward the restaurant while he shook his head in disbelief.

"Seamus."

He stiffened when he heard a woman call his name. It was Viviane's voice, and the sound hit him like a reminder that he was about to leave the town that carried every memory of them.

The thought tasted bittersweet as he and Diane walked toward his university, which still had police tape wrapped around the entrance.

The campus was silent. Buildings stood untouched yet hollow, the aftermath of the attack still lingering in the air.

No students came anymore. Everyone had gone home for an early break, leaving the place feeling abandoned.

Seamus found himself drifting toward his department's building, following the old footpath lined with magnolia trees.

In spring, the trees were breathtaking, covering everything in soft petals. Now, in autumn, only a few dried remnants clung to the branches.

Still, he remembered it clearly. Their first meeting. Orientation day. The magnolia petals fell like rain, and he had been hypnotized by the beauty of it all.

Then he saw her. Someone even more beautiful than the trees that framed her. Viviane stood with her friends, her long red hair lifted gently by the breeze, mixing with the drifting pink petals.

Their eyes met, and hers shone bright and warm, almost like sunlight breaking through clouds.

He had assumed she was far above him, someone he would never reach. Yet she walked straight toward him.

"What's your name?" she asked.

Her voice was clear and soft, almost musical.

"I'm Seamus Danford. I'm a new student here," he answered, stumbling a little. "And you?"

"I'm Viviane Velstrath. I think we'll get along well, Seamus." She held out her hand, and he shook it.

That simple moment started a relationship that made him feel like the luckiest person alive, and later, the most broken.

"In the end, I'll remember you longer than I've known you," he murmured as the memory faded and the world turned grey again.

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