Chapter 40
Back to Where I Belong

The uproar carried even through the firmly closed door of Kyle’s room, thanks to the open window.

Weary, Kyle slowly pushed himself upright.

“Come out this instant, Mrs. Etman! Right now!”

The furious bellow of a man’s voice rang up to him. It was one he knew well.

“…Uncle Bill?”

Startled, Kyle rose from the bed. When he went to the window, he saw Bill Remmer standing face-to-face with the housekeeper at the front entrance.

“What is the meaning of this noise?”

The sharp, cold voice of his mother cut through the air as she appeared.

“So it was you? You—the one who stole the tuition? How could you, Mrs. Etman? Even if you despise our Layla, how could you stoop to something so vile?”

Kyle froze mid-step on his way down.

The thief? Why was Uncle Bill speaking of that thief—here, to his mother?

Stunned, he stood motionless while Bill, quaking with fury, unleashed the outrageous story. Kyle, stiff as stone, listened as if in a nightmare.

“That’s impossible.”

The words slipped from him in a daze as he staggered out of his room. His descent down the stairs was unsteady, every step a sway. No matter how angry Uncle Bill might be, he couldn’t accept this kind of slander. No one—least of all his mother—could ever…

“Did Layla tell you this?”

His mother’s retort, sharp and cutting, came as soon as Bill paused for breath.

“Unbelievable. How dare you sling such base accusations—”

“You think Layla is the sort of girl who’d make something like this up?”

Bill’s voice cracked.

“If only she had tattled to me herself—then my heart wouldn’t be breaking like this!”

“If you insist on causing a scene with such nonsense, then leave at once! Before I call the constables!”

“And who do you think told me? Those very constables! The postman saw your cousin dragged into the station, heard it from the officers themselves. Will you still deny it?”

“…W-what?”

Mrs. Etman faltered, stumbling back a step.

Please. Kyle’s hands tightened. He stared at her, praying she would deny it, cry slander, rage at the injustice. But his mother could only gasp, breath ragged and uneven, her pale hands trembling as they clutched the railing.

Kyle lurched forward.

“Mother.”

Only when she heard that hoarse call did she seem to realize he stood behind her.

“It isn’t true, is it?”

He grasped her arm.

“Uncle Bill’s mistaken, isn’t he? Say it is.”

He tried to smile, but his lips refused. The reality was clear, cruelly clear—and yet his mind was fogged as though wrapped in smoke.

The last days had been hell. No matter how often he pleaded, Layla would not change her mind. Time slipped away, uselessly.

Still, Kyle had clung to hope. His father, while in Latz, had paid her tuition in full. All Kyle needed was to win Layla back, to convince her she was wrong. Then everything would fall into place.

If marriage was too heavy a burden, then an engagement would suffice. Tonight, he had planned to beg her again—let’s at least be engaged, go to university together. Time would soften her heart, love would grow, and they would be happy. Always.

But now…

“Mother!”

His voice broke into a sob. She stared only at the floor, face flushed red, unable to answer.

It was then that Dr. Etman returned—flanked by two constables.

At the sight, Linda Etman collapsed to the ground.

Her husband offered a strained apology to the officers, then turned first to Bill Remmer, removing his hat.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Remmer. I have no words, no excuse. Forgive us.”

Kyle’s heart shattered as he watched his father bow again and again.

“As you see, today is not the time for proper conversation. Once this settles, I will come to you again and apologize properly.”

“…Very well.”

Bill rubbed at his eyes, harsh and trembling, but nodded. He stepped back as the constables approached.

“Why, Linda?”

Dr. Etman’s eyes were cold as he looked at his wife, slumped and shaking.

“It’s not true, it’s not—”

“Daniel is at the station. He confessed everything. Said you put him up to it.”

At her cousin’s name, her excuses died on her lips.

“Don’t lie to me as well, Linda.”

“Husband!”

“So you smiled and pretended to accept her—while plotting this behind my back? You, my wife? Kyle’s mother?”

Anger contorted even the doctor’s face at last.

“It’s all your fault!”

Her shriek tore the air.

“Why did you let Layla in? Why did you make me into this wretched creature?”

“And you think that justifies what you’ve done?”

“No—it’s your fault! I told you from the beginning I hated that girl! If you’d listened, we wouldn’t be here! If not for you—if not for you—I…”

Her railing ended in sobs. She covered her face, tears spilling hot through her fingers.

With a weary sigh, Dr. Etman bent to lift her. Out of respect for the esteemed physician, the constables allowed him to see her into the carriage himself.

Kyle stood rooted, watching the nightmare unfold with open eyes. Twilight had fallen, but even the dim light stabbed at him like knives. He closed his eyes, wishing for darkness. For nothing but darkness.

“Don’t cry, Uncle. Please?”

Layla slid a handkerchief across the table. Bill, glaring into his beer like an enemy, startled at her voice.

“Cry? Who’s crying?”

He barked denial, but still rubbed at his wet eyes with the cloth she gave him.

The food on the plates sat untouched, cooling. Neither could eat.

While Bill drained his glass again and again, Layla sat pale and tired, staring at the edge of the table.

Only when the Arvis servants burst into the cottage with news did she understand. Linda Etman had not confessed, nor had Layla spoken—but somehow the whole story was out.

Who had tipped off the police? That day in the shabby tearoom, only Mrs. Etman, Layla, and one stranger had been present. Could it have been him? But who was he?

She had no answer. Only one truth was clear—Kyle had been wounded beyond healing. She had wanted to protect him, yet she had torn him apart. The constables had taken Linda Etman away in front of him. He had seen it all.

“Don’t cry, Layla.”

Bill slid the handkerchief back across the table.

“Cry? Who, me?”

Like him before, she denied it even as her eyes burned red.

“I’m sorry, child. I pushed you into this mess. Fool that I am, I drove you to it.”

“Say that again, and I really will be angry with you, Uncle.”

“Marriage… yes. A marriage like this was never meant to be. Better it ends. It’s right this way.”

Layla bowed her head in answer. The faint smile on her lips gleamed with tears.

“But you must still go to university. Dr. Etman already paid the tuition. If we return this money, it will be as though I paid it myself. University is your future, Layla—no matter Kyle.”

“No.”

“You could board, rent a room. I’d scrape together the money. It would be tight, but we’d manage—”

“I will go, Uncle. I haven’t given up. But not now.”

She reached for his hand.

“I’ll become a teacher. I’ll save money, and when I can afford to study in the capital, I’ll take the exam again. That was always my dream. I only strayed for a while. Now I’ve come back to where I belong.”

“But you passed. How can you abandon it now?”

“Do you not trust me?”

At last, she smiled—naturally, freely.

“I’ll pass again. With better marks. Enough for a scholarship. You’ll see.”

“Layla…”

“You always said it yourself. That I’d grow into someone worthy. So trust me one more time.”

What was he to do with her?

If only she would break down and weep. Instead, she smiled—so beautifully it tore his heart apart.

What was he to do with Kyle?

Bill’s shoulders shook. He bent his head, ashamed, as hot tears pattered onto the table.

“It’s all right, Uncle.”

She rose and came to him, wrapping her slender arms around him.

“I’m really all right.”

Her small frame embraced him, her voice steady.

“So let’s say it was enough. She’s punished already. We got the money back. That’s enough. Let’s say that, you and I.”

Her calm words soothed as her hand rubbed gently over his back. And Bill, choking on tears, could only nod.

He had sworn he could never forgive her. But seeing Linda Etman broken, Kyle pale as death—how could he not relent? For all she had done, she was still Kyle’s mother. To Layla, almost family.

“If that’s your heart, then I’ll follow it, Layla.”