Chapter 5: The Snake in the Hall

At first, I wrote every week, pouring my heart onto the page. But as the weeks dragged on and no replies came, I grew worried. Something was wrong.

Before leaving, I promised Lila I would write her a letter every week; now she must blame me.

The guilt ate at me. I imagined her waiting by the mailbox, day after day, and it broke my heart.

Finally, Harrison and I returned to Silver Hollow.

We rode in at dawn, the city skyline silhouetted against the rising sun. It felt good to be home, but something was off—an unease hung in the air.

Upon entering the city, Harrison and I were ordered to report on the disaster relief to city hall first.

We barely had time to wash the dust from our faces before being summoned. The mayor wanted answers, and he wanted them now.

The mayor was very pleased to hear that we had handled the flood and calmed the refugees.

He smiled for the first time in months, praising our efforts in front of the whole council. It felt hollow, somehow.

He rewarded us with piles of cash and jewelry, then dismissed us.

I accepted the rewards, but my mind was elsewhere—on Lila, on what might have happened while we were gone.

I don’t know if it was just my imagination, but I felt the mayor’s health was failing.

He looked thinner, his eyes sunken. There was a tremor in his hands as he handed out the rewards.

Though he tried to look energetic, he had obvious dark circles under his eyes and spoke weakly.

His voice was barely more than a whisper, and he seemed to tire easily. The council exchanged uneasy glances.

In recent years, the mayor had become obsessed with anti-aging treatments, searching everywhere for miracle cures.

There were rumors—strange herbs from the mountains, visits from traveling healers. People talked, but no one dared say anything to his face.

As I was leaving city hall, I saw someone waiting outside.

She was standing by the steps, her face hidden by the brim of her hat. I recognized her immediately—Grace, Lila’s maid.

It was Lila’s maid, Grace.

She looked anxious, glancing over her shoulder as if she expected someone to stop her.

She knelt as soon as she saw me, and my heart sank—I was sure something had happened to Lila.

Her hands shook as she pressed her forehead to the ground. I rushed to lift her up, dread settling in my stomach.

I never expected the mayor would issue a directive, granting Lila the title of Deputy and ordering her to Canada for a political marriage.

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. I staggered back, barely able to process what she was saying.

General Caldwell went to city hall to plead with the mayor, but no matter how hard he tried, the mayor wouldn’t change his mind.

He’d been a hero once, but now he was just a desperate father, begging for mercy that would never come.

In the end, General Caldwell threatened to send troops to Canada to end the idea of the marriage alliance.

It was a bluff, but a dangerous one. The mayor didn’t take kindly to threats, not even from old friends.

But someone accused General Caldwell of using his military achievements to look down on the mayor, saying that at the border, everyone only knew General Caldwell, not the mayor.

It was a calculated move—someone wanted him out of the way, and they knew exactly how to do it.

The mayor was furious and threw General Caldwell into the city jail.

I heard the news from Grace, her voice trembling with fear. It felt like the world was crumbling.

When Lila learned of all this, she fell ill and nearly died.

She was always sensitive, but this broke her. She refused to eat, barely spoke, and spent her days staring out the window.

I had no time to return home to see my parents; I only sent a message to let them know I was safe.

I scribbled a note, asking them to stay out of sight. I couldn’t risk bringing trouble to their door.

I rushed to the Caldwell house, and when I saw Lila, it felt like a knife was twisting in my heart.

She was a shadow of her former self, her cheeks hollow, eyes ringed with dark circles. I barely recognized her.

In just three months, Lila had become pale and thin, no longer the carefree girl she used to be.

She moved slowly, like she was made of glass. It broke me to see her that way.

She was so frail, she seemed lighter than a piece of paper.

When I hugged her, it felt like she might float away. I held her tighter, afraid to let go.

When she saw me, she couldn’t hold back anymore and threw herself into my arms, sobbing uncontrollably.

Her tears soaked my shirt, and I stroked her hair, whispering promises I wasn’t sure I could keep.

Now, we had to rescue General Caldwell first. He was a soldier who had fought in wars for years and suffered many old injuries.

He wasn’t young anymore, and the jail was no place for a man like him. We needed a plan, and fast.

The city jail was damp and cold—how could he survive it?

I pictured him shivering in a cell, his old wounds aching. We had to act quickly.

The mayor decreed that no one was allowed to visit General Caldwell.

He posted guards at every entrance, making it clear that no one—not even family—could get in.

After returning home, I hurried to discuss the matter with my father.

He listened quietly, his face grave. When I finished, he sighed, rubbing his temples.

My father said the mayor seemed like a different person, refusing to listen to anyone.