CHAPTER 47: A CALL FROM FAMILY

The next morning, Erisia got a call from an unexpected person.

When the screen lit up with an unfamiliar number, she squinted at it, thumb hovering. Spam or some number she’d forgotten to save were usually the only two options.

She answered anyway, wedging the phone against her shoulder as she laid out her outfit.

"Hello."

A pause followed—not the awkward shuffle of a telemarketer, but not someone she knew either. If it was, they would’ve spoken by now.

"Erisia?" The voice was low, male, and completely unfamiliar.

Her brows knit as she straightened, outfit on the bed. "Who’s asking?"

A soft sigh crackled through the speaker. "It’s me, David. David Wrenford... your father."

Erisia froze, surprise flickering across her face. David? Had the Wrenford father and son already returned from their business trip? She scrambled to recall the original timeline in the story, then realized—yes, it was around this time.

"Mr. Wrenford—uhh... sorry. I mean... Father?" The word stumbled out, awkward and stiff. She winced. Ever since the original Erisia returned to the Wrenford family, she’d always called them Father, Mother, and Brother. So suddenly calling him Mr. Wrenford even after what happened, that he might not know about was wrong.

But David didn’t flinch. If anything, the faint weariness in his voice softened. "It’s alright. You can call me whatever you feel like. I deserve that. And... I’m sorry, Erisia. I really am."

Her brows lifted higher. David was the least hostile of the Wrenfords, but they weren’t exactly on call-you-first-thing-in-the-morning terms. Why was he suddenly apologizing? Was this about the years of neglect? Something else? Or... had he already heard about the attack?

Her palm settled on her hip as she tilted her head. "Why are you apologizing all of a sudden?"

"I... I found out about everything," David said, his voice cracking at the edges. "What happened at Altheorn’s birthday party... and about Adrian. That he hired someone to run you over."

"I’m deeply ashamed," he continued, words coming rougher now. "Ashamed that you were hurt like that—and that I wasn’t there to protect you. As your father, I failed you."

Erisia listened without interrupting, letting David’s words settle. Only when he finished did she finally speak.

"Father," she said evenly, the word tasting strange in her mouth. "I don’t know what to say to that. After all this time?"

She paused, letting the silence stretch until it almost cracked. "I’m sure you didn’t call just to apologize. Why don’t you get to the point?"

"I understand you’re angry, and you have every right to be," David replied, the faint rasp of guilt threading through his voice. "I’ve been following Adrian’s arrest. Today is the arraignment, isn’t it? I... I have a request, and I hope you’ll grant it."

Erisia shifted the phone to her other ear, eyes narrowing despite the calm in her tone. "Yes, it’s today and If it’s something I can do, I’ll try. So, what exactly is this request?"

"I’d like to pick you up and take you to court," he said carefully. "Afterwards, I’d like you to come home with me. With all of us. We can have a family dinner."

A beat of hesitation. "Please?"

She stared at the floor, thumb tracing idle circles against the phone’s case. That single word—please—landed heavier than the apology. Memories shifted in her mind: Erisia’s pain and her longing.

"Fine," she said at last, releasing a soft sigh. "I also have something I want to tell everyone, and honestly, avoiding the hassle of a cab sounds perfect."

Relief flooded his voice. "That’s... good to know. I’ll pick you up at noon. Thank you, Erisia."

"There’s no need to thank me," she replied, already lowering the phone.

The call clicked off. For a moment she simply stared at the black screen, a small, crooked smile tugging at her lips.

Seliora really came through, she thought. Without the intel she had provided, Erisia would never have considered doing this so early.

...

The late-morning sun caught on the mirrored glass of Rita’s apartment building, throwing shards of light across the sidewalk. Erisia stepped out as a sleek black sedan eased to the curb, the kind of understated luxury.

She hung her bag over her shoulder and tugged at the cuff of her black button-up, sleeves neatly rolled to mid-forearm, the beige high-waisted trousers falling to her ankle boots. Her waist looked thinner cinched by the slim belt; the faint breeze teased a few loose strands from her bun.

The driver’s door opened and David Wrenford stepped out. He was broader than she remembered, silver streaking his dark hair, the faint exhaustion of red-eye flights lining his eyes.

"You..." His voice trailed, "You look... different." A flicker of guilt shadowed his features. "I should’ve been here to see it happen."

Erisia’s lips curved into a small, dry smile. "Life keeps moving whether people show up or not."

"I know Erisia," David flinched almost imperceptibly, then opened the passenger door for her. "Shall we?"

She slid in without another word, the leather seats cool against her palms. David circled to the driver’s side, and soon the car was gliding through the late-morning traffic.

Silence settled between them, thick but not suffocating. The city blurred past—skycrapers, glass towers, luxury cars, the occasional flash of greenery.

Halfway to the courthouse, David finally spoke. "I want you to know," he said, eyes fixed on the road, "I’ll make sure Adrian pays for what he did. You can count on me for that."

Erisia arched a brow, a wry note slipping into her voice. "Count on you? I haven’t done that since I was a kid. And now I’m supposed to start relying on you?"

His grip tightened slightly on the steering wheel, but he nodded. "You’re right." The words came quietly, without self-defense. "You shouldn’t have to."

The car lapsed back into silence.

Outside, the courthouse came into view—its stone steps already dotted with reporters and flashing cameras, waiting for a day that promised headlines.