The man limped as he dragged his broken body through the well-trimmed grass, each movement a grotesque parody of human locomotion. His left leg bent at an unnatural angle, the bone clearly shattered, yet he continued moving forward with relentless determination, as if he felt no pain at all—which was true. Pain had abandoned him long ago. He kept his sharp red eyes locked on the massive house ahead, those crimson orbs burning with singular purpose as he urged his ruined form onward.Deep within the grand halls of the Blackwood Estate, a large, ornate placard greeted visitors with elegant lettering that spoke of old money and older pride. The air thrummed with jubilation as laughter and music spilled from the backyard, where a lavish party unfolded beneath the darkening sky. Guests mingled beneath twinkling lights strung overhead like captured stars, their animated conversations weaving together into a joyful symphony of privilege and celebration.At the heart of this festive gathering stood Julian Blackwood, a young man basking in waves of admiration that washed over him from every direction. With tousled dark hair that caught the light just so and an infectious smile that seemed incapable of fading, he commanded attention effortlessly, radiating excitement and pride in equal measure. Today marked a significant milestone in his carefully curated life. He had just received his college entrance exam results, and they were, as expected, excellent. His father, Arthur Blackwood, had anticipated this triumph even before the grades were announced, his confidence in his firstborn son absolute and unwavering. Driven by immense pride in Julian's accomplishments—accomplishments he viewed as extensions of his own success—Arthur had orchestrated this grand celebration, transforming a simple academic achievement into an unforgettable soirée that would be discussed in their social circles for weeks to come.Julian moved through the crowd with practiced ease, his energy seemingly boundless as he glided from one guest to another. He thanked each attendee warmly, his handshakes firm, his eye contact genuine enough to make each person feel momentarily special. His enthusiasm proved infectious, brightening the already celebratory atmosphere and drawing people into his orbit like moths to flame.Meanwhile, Catherine Blackwood stood slightly apart from the festivities, a solitary figure at the edge of joy. Her gaze drifted beyond the party lights into the gathering darkness, unfocused and troubled. A sense of unease swirled within her chest, tightening around her heart like cold fingers, leaving her feeling inexplicably worried. She couldn't pinpoint the source of her anxiety, couldn't name the shadow that had fallen across her thoughts, but it persisted nonetheless—a mother's instinct whispering warnings she couldn't quite hear.Arthur, her husband, watched her with a look of concern etched on his face. Sensing her distress, he approached and gently suggested that a maid escort her inside to rest. However, Catherine quickly declined the offer, insisting she was fine. Yet her furrowed brow and distant expression hinted at the turmoil brewing beneath the surface."The Blackwood family is so fortunate to have such a brilliant son," a guest remarked to Arthur, raising his glass in tribute.Arthur nodded, his chest swelling with pride as he basked in the compliment."It's such a pity about their other son, though," another voice chimed in, the sentence trailing off into uncomfortable silence. No one dared finish the thought aloud.At the mention of his second son, Arthur's expression soured. He crinkled his face in disgust and muttered under his breath, "That little thing is no Blackwood." The nearby guests shifted awkwardly, exchanging glances but saying nothing.Across the lawn, Julian approached his mother, his smile bright and practiced."Congratulations, son," Catherine said warmly, reaching up to pat his head with maternal affection."Thanks, Mom," he replied, his voice carrying just the right note of humility.Catherine's expression shifted, a shadow crossing her features. "Where is your brother?" she asked, her tone suddenly concerned.The moment those words left her mouth, Julian flinched almost imperceptibly. Something dark flickered behind his eyes, but Catherine, distracted by her own thoughts, failed to notice."Oh, Elias?" Julian asked, buying himself a moment to compose his features. "He must be in his room," he added hastily, the words tumbling out perhaps too quickly."I should go see him. The poor boy must be devastated that he wasn't even permitted to sit for the exam," Catherine said, already beginning to turn away."No, no, no—you can't go!" Julian's voice rang out sharply, louder than he'd intended. Catherine froze mid-step and turned back, her eyes narrowing with suspicion.Panic clawed at Julian's chest. His heart hammered against his ribs as the weight of his secret threatened to crush him. He knew exactly what he had done, and he couldn't allow her to discover the truth. He couldn't let her know that he had buried her own biological son alive in the cold earth. He couldn't let her find out that the son they had scorned, the son they had mistreated and excluded from their table, the son they had relegated to a damp storage room where rainwater dripped through the cracked ceiling—that this very son had surpassed their golden boy. He would never allow that revelation to surface. Not now. Not ever.Julian forced his features into an anxious smile, desperately trying to smooth over his outburst. "No, I mean—of course you can go. It's just that you look exhausted. How about I go in your place? I'll try to lift his spirits, encourage him not to lose hope."Catherine's expression softened immediately, her suspicions melting away. "You're so thoughtful, Julian. Yes, go see what your brother is doing." She watched him with obvious affection as he turned to leave. "If only he were half as considerate as you," she murmured to herself, shaking her head before turning back to the festivities.Julian's jaw clenched as he rounded the corner, finally out of his mother's sight. He stopped abruptly and released a shuddering breath, pressing his palm against the cool wall to steady himself."Anything the matter?" a voice called out behind him.Julian spun around to find Harrison's familiar face studying him with concern.He exhaled heavily and slumped against the wall, suddenly feeling the weight of everything pressing down on him. "That worthless bastard won't stop haunting me, even though he's long dead," he muttered bitterly.Harrison leaned against the wall beside his friend and let out a sympathetic sigh. "We buried him ourselves. You're just being paranoid."Julian shook his head, his expression hardening. "It's pointless to dwell on it anyway. That bastard got exactly what he deserved."Before Harrison could respond, a sudden commotion erupted from the direction of the party. Raised voices and gasps of surprise carried through the evening air.The two young men exchanged alarmed glances before hurrying back toward the celebration, dread pooling in Julian's stomach with each step.
