The kidnapper's grin faded into a cold smirk as he looked directly at Tom. "You're wasting your time," he said with a slow, deliberate tone. "I'm smarter than that. Your father isn't here, not anywhere close. He's far away from this place, somewhere you won't find him so easily."
As the words sank in, Tom felt his chest tighten. His heart dropped like a stone into a deep, dark well. The hope he had clung to, that his father might still be close and that rescue was imminent, suddenly vanished. The weight of despair pressed down on him with crushing force.
The kidnapper's eyes gleamed with cruel amusement at the visible change in Tom's expression. "You see," he said softly, "hoping is pointless." He took a step back, blending seamlessly into the shadows. "And that's when I take my leave."
Before Tom could react, the kidnapper slipped away like a ghost, vanishing without a trace.
Moments later, the side door creaked open, and Gregor entered cautiously. His sharp eyes scanned the room until they settled on Tom's downcast face.
Tom shook his head slowly, the weight of disappointment evident. "He wasn't here," Tom said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "The whole thing… it was a waste of time."
Gregor's expression hardened, a mix of frustration and sympathy. "We'll figure this out," he assured, though neither of them really believed it at the moment
****
Back home, the atmosphere was thick with silence and tension. Tom paced the room restlessly, every step measured but heavy, like the burden of the world pressed onto his shoulders. His guard, sitting silently at the edge of the bed, watched him carefully. The room felt somber, filled with unspoken worries and the heavy weight of uncertainty.
Gregor had learned long ago that when Tom Polo paced like this, it meant his mind was working at full speed, plotting, calculating, and wrestling with difficult thoughts. Disturbing him now would do no good; he needed this moment to think through the pieces.
Time stretched on like a taut wire, every tick of the clock echoing in the quiet. Finally, Tom stopped and pivoted sharply, his eyes locking on Gregor with a sudden clarity.
"We need to get rid of my mom," Tom said firmly, the decision hard but resolute. "She's going to recover soon, and when she does… she'll start asking questions. Too many questions."
Gregor blinked, taken aback. "How do you plan to do that?" he asked cautiously.
Tom's expression hardened. "I'll compel her to forget everything about the crime," he said. "Then I'll send her on a vacation somewhere far away."
Gregor frowned. "Isn't that… a little wrong? Tampering with her memories like that?"
Tom paused for a long moment, the weight of the choice sinking in. He rubbed his temple thoughtfully before replying, "I'd rather do that than put her in danger. It's about protecting her, even if it means bending the truth."
He moved over to sit on his chair, leaning back as the tension in the room seemed to settle slightly. "There's no other way. We have to move forward."
Gregor nodded slowly, understanding the harsh realities Tom was facing.
After a moment's silence, Tom said, "I'm going to accept the kidnapper's mission."
Gregor looked up sharply. "You're serious?"
Tom nodded without hesitation. "I have no other choice. And there's no way I can track him right now."
Gregor's face grew grim, the weight of the situation settling over him like a storm cloud.
Just as if on cue, Tom's phone buzzed sharply
He glanced at it, then looked up at Gregor.
Gregor's voice was low, "Is that…?"
Tom nodded and answered the call.
A cold, sinister voice echoed from the speaker, "Twenty-four hours are up. It's time to make your choice."
Tom took a deep breath. "I'll do it."
The voice softened ever so slightly. "I'm glad you made the right decision."
Tom held his breath, waiting for the next words.
The voice spoke again, this time introducing itself. "My name is Lorian."
Lorian's tone became businesslike. "The artifact I'm after is the Emerald of Firan."
Tom frowned, trying to place the name. "Tell me more."
A faint chuckle came through the line. "Tom, you're smart. You can find whatever information you need on your own."
The call was growing colder now, the sense of urgency thick in the air. "You have a deadline, a week to complete this mission."
Then, just like that, the call cut off abruptly.
Tom stared at the silent phone in his hand, a storm of thoughts raging in his mind.
Gregor leaned forward, breaking the silence. "We've got a week. We need to start planning."
Tom nodded slowly, steeling himself for the difficult road ahead.