Chapter 2: Lost in Silver Hollow

I never meant to end up here. Not like this. When I first arrived in this strange world, it was to find someone.

Nothing could have prepared me for the Whitmores. Or for Sebastian. Or for the way this world twisted everything I thought I knew.

My childhood friend, Michael Chen, had vanished during a time-travel experiment gone wrong. According to the law, no one was allowed to travel through time and space without permission. But Michael never cared about rules.

He was always reckless. Always chasing the next big thing. I should have known he’d get himself into trouble. But when the Bureau cut him loose, I was the only one who cared enough to try and bring him back.

The Bureau abandoned him.

I never forgave them for that. I never forgave myself. Not for that.

Not after everything. But I couldn’t abandon him.

Michael was family. And you don’t leave family behind.

With nothing but reckless courage, I came to this strange, old-fashioned place, thinking I’d find Michael and bring him home soon.

I’d pictured it a hundred times: I’d find him, we’d laugh about the mess he’d made, and we’d go home together. I never imagined I’d be the one who got stuck here.

Maybe we were both lost. Circling each other in a world that didn’t want either of us.

If only I’d left him there.

If I’d just walked away, maybe none of this would have happened. Safe in my own bed. Dreaming of better things.

Back then, I entered the town, making money by typing letters for townsfolk and copying papers at the bakery counter—half to treat Sebastian’s wounds, half for my own expenses.

Silver Hollow was a sleepy little town, the kind of place where everyone knew your name by the end of the week. I rented a room above the bakery, using an old typewriter to make ends meet. Every penny counted. The smell of fresh bread drifted up through the floorboards each morning.

Connor Matthews complained every day about feeding this stranger who ate too much and never paid rent.

He was always grumbling about the grocery bill, but I could tell he liked having someone around. He’d sneak me extra biscuits when he thought I wasn’t looking.

Connor was the first person I met here. When I stepped out of the shimmering portal from the Wayfarer device, he was digging through the overgrown woods for wild greens.

He looked as surprised as I felt. He’d looked up, dirt smeared on his face, and nearly dropped his basket when he saw me. For a second, we just stared at each other, both too shocked to speak.

He called me an “angel,” like he really meant it. The thin, sallow-faced teenager was so startled he fell to the ground.

I laughed. But there was a sadness in his eyes I recognized right away. He said it like he really believed it, like I was some miracle sent just for him.

Later, he called me “sis.” Connor’s parents were gone. I had no one. We depended on each other.

We became a makeshift family—sharing meals, splitting chores, watching each other’s backs. I taught him how to cook rice; he taught me how to patch a roof. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. Sometimes we’d sit on the porch, eating burned rice and laughing at our own mistakes.

After Sebastian woke up, he claimed he’d been betrayed by his older brother over the family fortune and ended up in the water. He told us not to call the police. Not to look for his family.

He spun a story about family feuds and backstabbing, his voice flat, eyes distant. I wanted to believe him. I wanted to believe kindness could change a person.

His face was pale as paper. He rarely showed emotion. While he recovered, he spoke little and slept a lot.

Sometimes I’d catch him staring out the window, lost in thought. Memories. Regrets. Or just the slow crawl of time.

I’d push Sebastian out onto the porch to soak up the sun.

He never thanked me, but he never refused, either. I’d read books aloud while the breeze rustled the trees. Pretending we were just neighbors. Not strangers bound by circumstance.

By the fence, I’d draw and scribble with a stick in the dirt, figuring out if the cash I’d made this month would cover next month’s rent, hoping to save enough for my search for Michael. The sun warmed my back, dirt caked under my nails.

A small hope. But it kept me going. Sometimes I’d sketch little maps, marking places I thought Michael might go.

I could feel his eyes on me, but I pretended not to notice. I didn’t know what he was thinking. Or how much he’d come to resent me.

I thought it was just a pear. I had no idea. I plucked one from the backyard tree and handed it to him.

It was the first fruit of the season, still warm from the sun. I wiped it on my shirt and offered it with a smile. Hoping it would make him feel at home.

“This is a Silver Hollow pear. Crisp and sweet. Eat it—you’ll feel better. Your wounds will heal faster.”

I spoke with the kind of optimism I barely believed myself. But it was all I had.

I tried to smile. Bright, cheerful. Fake.

Just two people. Sharing fruit. Pretending it was a lazy afternoon.

He smiled. Just a little.

I held onto that moment. Foolish, maybe. But I hoped it meant something.

Like that old story about the farmer and the snake. Around here, gratitude curdles into grudges fast.

Kindness here was a double-edged sword. You never knew if it would save you or bite you in the end. I learned that the hard way.

When black-suited guards escorted a limousine into Silver Hollow, heading straight for our little house, I finally learned that Sebastian was actually the fourth son of the Whitmore dynasty. A family with roots older than the state itself.

The whole town turned out to watch, craning their necks as the Whitmore insignia rolled past. It felt like the circus had come to town. The clowns wore thousand-dollar suits and sunglasses.

Sebastian’s older brother, the heir, was the one fighting over the inheritance, famous for his virtue and charity.

I’d seen his face on magazine covers at the grocery store—always smiling, always perfect. The kind of man who could ruin you with a handshake.

The year Sebastian crushed his rivals and returned home, he set his sights on marrying the daughter of the family’s old advisor.

The gossip in town was relentless—everyone wanted to know who’d end up with the Whitmore fortune. I tried to stay out of it. But it was impossible.

Rumor had it she was the heir’s girlfriend.

They said she was beautiful, refined. Untouchable. The kind of woman who made other women feel invisible.

The woman in the car wore elegant, formal clothes. She stepped down onto a servant’s back—her heel digging in without a second thought—dabbed at her tears with a silk handkerchief, and choked out, “Thank God, you’re safe, Sebastian. That’s all that matters.”

Her voice trembled just enough to sound sincere. The handkerchief was monogrammed, her nails perfectly manicured. She didn’t look at me. Not even once.

Sebastian didn’t even look at her. Instead, he pointed at me, leaning on a broom, and said, “This is the woman who saved me. I’m bringing her home.”

The words echoed in the silent yard. For a second, I thought I’d misheard him. But the look in his eyes told me he meant every word.

The fiancée’s face froze for a moment, then she wiped her tears and put on a flawless, gentle smile. “You’re so generous, Sebastian. She’s lucky, coming from a place like this.”

Her words were honeyed poison. I felt the weight of a thousand stares. Judging. Measuring. Dismissing me all at once.

I shook my head. No one cared.

But no one listened. My voice was drowned out. Engines. Applause. Nothing else.

Connor was already on his knees. Thanking them with tears in his eyes.

He clung to the hem of Sebastian’s coat, his gratitude pouring out in broken sentences. I wanted to tell him he didn’t owe them anything. But I was too stunned to move.

I stood there. Stunned.

No time to think. No way to fight back. I just let it carry me, hoping I’d find solid ground again.

My heart shook.

I felt small, powerless, like a child lost in a crowd. The world spun too fast. I couldn’t catch up.

How naive was I? Coming here with nothing but Wayfarer.

I’d thought I could change things, that I could save Michael, that I could make a difference. But this world chewed me up and spit me out.

Before all this, the worst things that happened to me were bad SAT scores or Michael selling off my game gear behind my back.

Now, I’d give anything for those problems.

A world ruled by old money. Where the powerful decided who lived and who died.

Here, your worth was measured in dollars and bloodlines. I was nobody. And everyone made sure I knew it.

I always carried it. Or thought I did. A chill swept through me. I instinctively reached for the “Wayfarer” I always carried, only to find it missing.

I searched everywhere. Nothing. Panic surged through me. That device was my only way home, my only connection to the life I’d left behind.

The corners of his mouth lifted. Our eyes met. The young man in the crowd looked at me coldly.

He didn’t smile. But there was satisfaction in his gaze. Connor. He looked different now—harder, older, his eyes sharp as broken glass. He’d learned well from the Whitmores.

Like a snake, watching its prey.

He knew how to survive. Even if it meant betraying the only family he had left.

I asked him why. Why repay kindness with cruelty?

I kept asking. Hoping he’d slip.

His fingers toyed with the hair at my neck. Sebastian thought for a long time.

He held on just a little too tight. His touch was gentle, almost absent-minded. But I could feel the tension in his hands.

“Maybe... it was the day you handed me that pear. The sunlight was just right. It hurt my eyes.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. I still don’t.

The ride back to the Whitmore estate felt endless, like it lasted a lifetime.

I watched the city lights blur past. Wondering if I’d ever see the outside world again.

Stuffed into the back of the car. I was bound hand and foot.

The rope bit into my skin, leaving angry red marks. I shifted, trying to get comfortable, but there was no escape.

Someone came to greet Sebastian.

I recognized the silhouette. Even before he opened the door. The car slowed, headlights cutting through the early morning fog.

Then that person opened the car door. Daylight flooded in, stinging my eyes until they watered.

I squinted against the light, blinking back tears. The fresh air smelled like hope, but it vanished fast.

“Sis, why do you do this to yourself?”

His voice was softer than I expected, almost kind. For a moment, I saw the boy I’d met in the woods—the one who’d called me angel.

He reached out to wipe my tears. I turned away.

Swallowing my pride. I couldn’t let him see me like this—broken, defeated. I pressed my cheek against the seat, swallowing my pride.

The childishness was gone, replaced by a cold edge. The young man before me had thick brows and sharp eyes.

I barely recognized him anymore. He’d grown up too fast, molded by the Whitmores into something sharp and unyielding. I barely recognized him anymore.

In the city, everyone knew Connor as Sebastian’s loyal right hand—no matter his humble beginnings, he’d fight to the death for his boss.

He wore expensive clothes now, his hair neatly combed, his posture perfect. But the sadness in his eyes never really left.

Seeing my reaction, his face didn’t change. “Sis, is being Sebastian’s favorite really so unbearable for you?”

But the words stuck in my throat. The question hung in the air, heavy and impossible. I wanted to scream yes, but the words stuck in my throat.

“Get out,” I forced out.

But it was enough. It was all I could manage. My voice was barely a whisper, but it was enough.

A trace of coldness flashed in his eyes. Connor stared at me, a trace of coldness flashing in his eyes.

Or if he hated himself more. He looked away, jaw clenched. I wondered if he hated me, or if he hated himself more.

“You can’t survive on your own. Not with Nora. Do you know how many people starve outside the city every day? How many end up lost?”

His words were sharp, meant to wound. But I knew he believed them. He’d seen too much to hope for anything better.

“Even if Sebastian keeps you caged, it’s a golden cage. Nice clothes. Food. Safe from the world. Isn’t that enough?”

Now, it sounded like a curse. I remembered the first time he said that, back when we still shared secrets and dreams. Now, it sounded like a curse.

I looked at the rope around my wrists, my mind buzzing, my last bit of sanity stretched thin.

Anything to keep from falling apart. The room spun. I focused on the rope, counting the knots, anything to keep from falling apart.

I whispered, “I’m a person, not a pet.”

But they were all I had left. The words felt small, but they were all I had left.

I have the right to choose how I live. Even if no one believes it.

I held onto that truth. With everything I had.

I tried every way to escape. When I first fell into Sebastian’s hands, I tried every way to escape.

Looking for gaps. For moments when I could slip away. I learned the layout of the estate by heart—every hallway, every exit, every blind spot. I memorized the staff schedules, looking for gaps, for moments when I could slip away.

But Sebastian’s power was too strong. He always brought me back. Blending in with the staff to sneak out, crawling through crawl spaces, jumping into the lake to search for an underwater tunnel... but Sebastian’s power was too strong. He always managed to bring me back.

But I never stopped trying. Every escape ended the same way—dragged back in chains, punished, made to feel small. But I never stopped trying.

A wanted poster with Connor’s face plastered everywhere. The farthest I ever got was outside the city gates, but I was forced back by a wanted poster with Connor’s face plastered everywhere.

There was nowhere left to run. His face stared down at me from every wall, every lamppost. I knew then that there was nowhere left to run.