Chapter 206: The Ghost of Leon’s Past

Leon hadn’t merely lost people.

He had lost them one by one, each loss tearing away another piece of him until there was almost nothing left but a man who had learned to endure.

And, somehow, he had always found a way to blame himself.

When Leon finally settled into an uneasy sleep, Isobel turned toward Randy.

"How long have you been in Novare?"

"Six months."

The boy’s answer was barely above a whisper.

"Six months?" Isobel repeated, unable to hide her surprise.

Randy nodded.

"When we found Mom, she told us she didn’t want us anymore."

His fingers tightened around the edge of his shirt, twisting the fabric between them.

"Grandpa wanted to take us back to Aster Valley. But the woman we were staying with..." He hesitated, his expression hardening. "The woman who had taken Mom to the capital before."

Isobel’s brows furrowed.

"She took all our money."

"She swindled you?"

Randy nodded.

"We had nothing left. We couldn’t afford the trip home anymore." He lowered his eyes. "So we had no choice. We begged on the streets and stayed in that shack beneath the bridge."

Silence settled over the room.

Isobel’s chest tightened. They had spent months surviving in a place where even the rain could wash away what little they possessed.

She glanced toward Leon, sleeping soundly on the bed.

Then her gaze returned to Randy.

"What about your grandmother?" she asked softly. "What happened to her?"

Randy sighed.

"I wasn’t born yet at that time. My mother was only five."

He paused, searching for the words.

"My eldest uncle was the one who told us what happened."

"What happened?" Julian asked.

"There was a super typhoon."

Randy’s voice remained quiet, almost detached.

"It was the worst one anyone in Aster Valley had ever seen. The government issued warnings. They told everyone to evacuate, but people in the valley didn’t take it seriously. They survived typhoons before. They thought this one would be no different."

His gaze drifted toward the sleeping Leon.

"But they were wrong."

He spoke slowly now.

"Uncle said the rain had been falling for hours. The wind was so loud they could barely hear each other. Then, sometime after midnight, they heard something outside."

"What?"

"Water."

Randy’s fingers curled tighter around his shirt.

"Not rainwater. A wall of water."

His voice dropped.

"The flood came down from the mountains so fast and the three rivers of the valley overflowed. There was no time to run. Water rushed into the villager houses, carrying mud, branches, pieces of other houses..."

Isobel’s breath caught.

"Grandpa tried to get everyone to the roof."

Randy looked down.

"He pushed Uncle up first so he could pull the others up. Then he turned back because he needed to help Grandma and the girls."

He paused.

"And that’s when it happened."

For the first time, the boy’s voice cracked.

"The water tore through the house."

Isobel could almost see it—the darkness, the screaming wind, the deafening roar of the flood as it tore through the valley and swallowed everything in its path.

"Grandpa called for Grandma and reached for her in the darkness."

Randy’s eyes glistened.

"But he couldn’t reach her."

He swallowed hard before continuing.

"Somehow, Grandma found a plastic basin floating beside her. She pulled my mother into it and pushed her onto the top, trying to keep her above the water."

Isobel’s breath caught.

"Then Grandma started swimming toward Grandpa’s voice."

Randy’s fingers tightened around his shirt.

"Grandpa said he heard her calling his name. He reached out, and for a moment..." His voice faltered. "For a moment, he felt her hand."

Isobel’s chest tightened.

"He grabbed for her."

Randy’s eyes filled with tears.

"But the current was too strong."

His voice dropped to a whisper.

"His fingers slipped."

The basin was all he managed to hold on to.

"Grandma was swept away."

Silence filled the room.

Randy lowered his head, his shoulders trembling slightly.

"She told him to live."

His lips quivered.

"She told him to take care of the children."

He took a shaky breath.

"Those were her last words to Grandpa."

Isobel pressed a hand against her chest, as though she could somehow ease the ache that had settled there.

A mother had known she was about to die. And with her last breath, she hadn’t cried for herself.

She had only worried about the man she loved and the children she was leaving behind.

"And then?"

"Grandpa tried to hold on to my two aunts too."

Randy shook his head.

"But the water took them too."

One wife. Two children.

Three lives.

Gone in the span of minutes.

"Uncle said Grandpa screamed their names until his voice disappeared. My young uncle had exerted all his efforts to pull up my grandpa and my mother to the roof."

Randy stared at the floor.

"They stayed on that roof until morning, waiting for the others to come back."

His lips trembled.

"But they never did."

No one spoke.

"By sunrise, the water was gone. Their belongings were gone. Almost everything in the valley was gone."

Randy drew a shaky breath.

"And Grandma..."

He looked toward Leon.

"Grandpa never forgave himself for surviving."

Isobel’s eyes moved to the sleeping man.

Suddenly, Leon’s quiet, exhausted face looked different to her.

She understood now why the old man’s losses had never truly left him.

He hadn’t simply lost his wife and two daughters to a flood.

He had watched them disappear while he was still holding on.

And he spent the rest of his life believing that if he had been stronger, faster, or better—somehow, he could have saved them.

"I knew about that typhoon," Julian said quietly. "It claimed so many lives."

He had donated a sizable amount of money after the disaster. His employees had gathered clothes, dried food, and supplies for the survivors.

But he had never known that Leon’s family had been among the victims.

Julian exchanged a heavy look with Isobel.

How could one family suffer so much?

For a fleeting moment, he almost understood why people might call Leon cursed.

It was as if every time the man managed to find a small ray of hope, fate found a way to snatch it away.

But Julian immediately rejected the thought.

No.

Leon wasn’t a jinx.

He was simply a man who had been forced to endure more tragedy than anyone should have to bear.

"Dad," Isobel said quietly, breaking the silence. "About Cousin Alena..."

She didn’t want to stay buried in the past—not when there were still people alive who might be saved.

"Don’t worry, Sweetie. I’ll look into what happened."

Julian’s expression turned thoughtful.

"There’s something strange about this. I don’t believe Alena simply decided she didn’t want her children anymore."

He glanced at Randy.

"If she’s working in Red Fields, there’s a possibility she’s a victim too."

Isobel looked at him.

"Then, Dad... I’ll leave it to you."

Across from them, Randy’s eyes flickered.

For the first time that day, there was something other than fear in them.

Hope.

A small, fragile hope that perhaps his mother hadn’t abandoned them by choice.