Part 1Silent Snowfall

Six years after Kane went legit, I ran into him at St. Jude’s Abbey in Southport.

The snow was coming down thick and heavy that day.

He was there with his pregnant wife, praying for their unborn child.

I was there to light votive candles for my parents, who had been dead for six years.

Our eyes met, and for a split second, we both froze.

After a moment of charged silence, he spoke first, asking how I’d been all these years.

I answered politely. "Getting by."

After his prayers, he didn't leave. He just stood there, watching me with a thoughtful expression. The wind whipped snow and freezing rain under the cloister's eaves. I thought he was just waiting for the storm to pass, but then he asked, his voice laced with a nervous tremor, "Li, do you still hate me?"

I watched the flickering flames of the candles before me, their light dancing on the cold stone. I bit my lip and said nothing.

How could I not hate him? Three lives were lost because of him.

...

The man’s lips parted, as if he wanted to say more.

Just then, a few other visitors approached a monk, asking how to refill the oil in the votive lamps.

Seeing this, Kane swallowed his words and stepped aside.

I didn't look at him again. I walked to the altar, picked up the oil vessel, and carefully refilled the three lamps engraved with the names of my loved ones.

The flames leaped, their light reflecting on my calm face.

Every lamp here represented a memory, a past that could never be reclaimed.

My parents. My brother.

They were all taken from me six years ago.

And the man responsible was standing just a few feet behind me.

"Kane, we should go." A soft, feminine voice called from the cloisters, tinged with impatience.

Through the swirling incense smoke, I saw Chloe, one hand on the small of her back, looking at Kane with clear annoyance.

"I know." Kane's brow furrowed almost imperceptibly.

He took a step closer to me and pulled a business card from the inner pocket of his suit, holding it out.

"Li, if… if you ever need anything, you can call this number."

I didn't take it.

He awkwardly placed the card on the edge of the nearby donation box and turned, walking quickly away. I watched as he reached Chloe's side, gently adjusting the expensive cashmere shawl around her shoulders and carefully guiding her down the steps.

A sharp, unexpected pain twisted in my gut.

Outside the abbey doors, a black Bentley had been waiting. A driver held the door as Kane settled Chloe safely inside before getting in himself. The car sped away, crushing the freshly fallen snow.

I pulled my gaze away, picked up the business card from the donation box, and, without a second glance, dropped it into a brazier where paper offerings were being burned.

The flames licked at the edges of the card, consuming it in seconds until it was nothing but a wisp of smoke.