CHAPTER 86: FROM BREATHER TO DISASTER

The entire living room was scattered with Daisy’s belongings, boxes opened and contents spilled everywhere. Daisy sat on the floor, brow furrowed in frustration, still unable to find her precious diary. She glanced again at a notebook tucked inside one of the boxes.

She sighed deeply, crossing her legs. "Where is it?"

"Madam..." Dally crouched beside her, concern etched on her face. "Just tell us what you’re looking for. We’ll help you find it."

Daisy shook her head, frustration flickering in her eyes. "It’s not here. I’ve searched for it so many times already..."

The maids exchanged uncertain glances, their eyes flickering from one to another.

"If you’d like, I can ask the delivery team who brought your things here last night," One of them offered gently.

Daisy smiled faintly, shaking her head. "Thank you, but it’s okay. I’ll try checking at our old house later. Maybe it was left behind or misplaced during the move."

She gave them a reassuring nod, hoping to ease their concern despite the nagging worry in her own heart.

Standing up, she began to place the items back into the box, but the maids quickly stepped forward to stop her.

"No, madam! We’ll do it. Please, take a rest... we’ll arrange everything for you," Dally, the head maid, said with a comforting smile.

Daisy studied her for a few seconds, her expression unreadable, 1

and the air in the room seemed to grow heavier with the pause. Finally, she gave a small nod. "Hmm... then I’ll leave this to you. Thanks."

Without another word, she turned back to her room and began changing her clothes.

What was so special about that book? Why did it feel like losing it meant losing something more than just paper and ink?

Her mind drifted back to the day she’d slipped that boarding pass between the pages. A quiet habit she’d never explained to anyone. It wasn’t just a piece of paper; it was the ticket for the trip to visit her grandmother. Not just any grandmother, but the one who always listened when her father was too busy, the woman who had been more of a mother than the one who gave birth to her.

She had taken that flight. But instead of the cheerful visit they’d planned, she arrived just in time for the funeral. So, if anyone ever asked what was so special about the diary, she’d say, "Nothing." The truth was, it wasn’t the diary itself—it was the boarding pass tucked inside, the last tangible memory of her and her grandmother before everything changed.

Snapping the thought, she grabbed her cute little pouch from the dresser. She rushed down the stairs, pausing just long enough to tell the maid to let her know if Theo returned.

"I’m heading to the old house," she added, "just in case there’s still anything left unpacked."

"Madam..." Dally called after her. "Do you need the driver to send you there?"

She shook her head quickly. "No, it’s fine. I’ll take a taxi."

Before the maid could say another word, Daisy was already out the door.

The air outside was crisp, the kind that stung her cheeks as she walked toward the main road. She pulled her coat tighter, trying to ignore the tight knot in her chest. Right now, she needed a breather, something to clear her head before she started to over-stress herself.

Flagging down a taxi, she slid inside and placed the pouch on her lap, holding it close.

The ride was as silent as it should be, but the driver kept glancing at the rearview mirror.

"Miss..." he finally spoke, breaking the quiet.

"Hmm?" Daisy leaned forward, arching a brow at the unexpected address.

"I don’t know if this is right," the driver said carefully, eyes still flicking to the mirror, "but I think we’ve been followed since you got in."

Daisy instantly turned, squinting at the black sedan in the distance. "I don’t think so. Maybe they’re just going the same way," she replied, trying to sound casual but her grip on the pouch tightened.

The driver nodded slowly. "If you think so, I’ll take you straight to your address. But if you feel unsafe, I can head to the police station instead."

She shook her head quickly. "It’s fine... just take me to the address." She forced a small smile. "If anything feels wrong, I’ll call my husband."

The taxi slowed to a stop in front of her old house. Saying her gratitude and making the payment, she slid out from the taxi. "Thanks, uncle."

"I’ll wait here until you’re inside, miss," the taxi uncle said, his voice firm but kind.

Daisy gave him a grateful smile before bowing slightly and heading straight to the gate. She unlocked it, eyes darting around in case the car had followed her but the street was quiet. Not a single vehicle in sight. She took a breath and quickened her pace.

The moment she stepped inside, she turned the key, locking the door tight. Only then did she allow herself to exhale.

Her gaze swept the space, and for a moment, a strange hollowness pressed in on her. The living room was bare, no couch, no coffee table, not even curtains. Every piece of furniture had been cleared out, just as she’d arranged for the sale. Only the wallpaper and a lone wall decoration remained, quiet reminders of what once filled the room.

She weakly walked toward her old room, her steps echoing in the emptiness. The air felt unfamiliar now, as though the place had been stripped of its warmth along with the furniture. Still, she reminded herself of the sole reason she’d come—to find the diary.

She opened the first drawer of her dressing table, then knelt to check the lower shelves—empty. No sign of it. She glanced around; nothing remained except the dressing table itself. Her brows knitted.

’Why hadn’t this been sold along with the other furniture?’

Before she could dwell on it, she heard a loud sound of glass shattered and not long after, a faint sound reached her ears from outside, footsteps, slow and deliberate, coming up the stairs. Each step landed with the kind of weight that made it clear the person wanted her to hear.

She turned around, panic surging through her. Snatching up her pouch, she rushed to the bathroom, the only place she could think to hide for now.

It just she had a lot on her mind, causing a momentary pause, nothing much.