Tangled in His Obsession (Seraphina)

After lunch, Neil decided to pay his respects at the Garrison's wake, a necessary solemnity in the quiet town of Summitville.

Seraphina, ever at his side, was ready to accompany him, leaving Andrea feeling somewhat out of place and ready to bid her farewell.

"Where will you head off to in Summitville, all by yourself?" Seraphina asked with a hint of concern as they were about to leave.

"There's a whole town to explore, and I'm a grown woman. Do you really think I'll get lost?" Andrea retorted with a playful grin.

Just then, Herman descended the stairs, dressed to step out, and Ross chuckled upon seeing him, "Perfect timing, Herman's heading out too. He can show you around, Andrea." Caught off guard, Herman was about to protest, and Andrea was ready to decline, but Seraphina interjected, "That's settled then. Herman, take good care of Andrea for me! We'll catch up with you guys later!" Herman's instinct was to reach out to her, to explain he had his own errands, but Seraphina was already dashing towards Neil's car parked outside, sliding into the passenger seat, leave him with no choice.

With no more to be said, Andrea simply told Herman, "Just dropoff somewhere nearby. I'll walk around as | please." Herman grunted an acknowledgment, grabbed his keys, and they stepped out into the fresh air.

Andrea bid Ross goodbye and hopped into Herman's car.

They drove past quaint neighborhood streets until they reached a serene avenue lined with towering oak trees that shaded the world below, a rare quiet corner of Summitville.

"Dropoff here," Andrea suggested. "I'd like to take a stroll around this area, don't lethold you up." Herman glanced at the road stretching out before them and remarked, "Not much to see around here." Andrea, already scanning through her phone's map, replied, "A random walk is all | need, doesn’t have to be the town square." Before Herman could respond, his phone rang. Glancing at the caller ID, he picked up.

"Herman, weren't you supposed to cover to dig up sfiles? How soon can you make it?" The caller's voice echoed through the car's Bluetooth. "I've got a case to work on, so hurry up." "Got it," Herman replied, a touch of urgency in his voice. "I'll be there in twenty." After the call ended, he spared Andrea a fleeting glance and pulled over to the side of the road.

Andrea unbuckled her seatbelt, thanked him, and stepped out onto the sidewalk.

As Herman drove away, he caught a glimpse of Andrea walking away in the rear-view mirror, her back to him, and refocused on the road ahead.

Alone with her thoughts, Andrea knew they walked different paths. Despite the chance meetings and meticulous arrangements, she maintained a respectful distance. They were never meant to be too close.

With that thought, Herman didn't linger and sped off, leaving the quiet street behind.

Meanwhile, Seraphina arrived at Garrison's wake with Neil. The room was somber, filled with mourners paying their respects to the revered doctor whose impact on countless lives was undeniable.

Seraphina's gaze swept across the room, her eyes resting briefly on Garrison's kind-faced portrait, yet her expression remained undisturbed. As Herman had mentioned, she had foreseen Garrison's end and had chosen to wait silently for the inevitable.

From Herman's professional perspective, this was unforgivable, but Seraphina had her reasons for letting events unfold as they did. Now, amidst the sorrow, her heart was filled with defiance and anger. Those who erred must face the consequences, mustn't they? As Garrison was a dear friend of Neil's, it was only fitting for Neil to stay, but Seraphina felt no obligation to linger. After a short while, she excused herself and left.

Outside, she purchased a bouquet of flowers and drove to another part of Summitville, to a cemetery where Carney and Magdalen lay at rest.

Standing before their tombstone, which bore their names side by side, Seraphina fell into a silent reverie. After a moment, she knelt down, arranging the flowers by the stone, picking up fallen leaves, holding them in her palm, yet frozen in place.

She squatted there in silence until she finally whispered, "Daddy..." She wanted to ask him—Do you still want me? Her, the fake daughter, the daughter who brought nothing but disaster—did he still want her? But the words lodged in her throat, unspeakable. She stared at Carney's non the stone, and after a long pause, a faint smile broke through.

How could he not want her? No one knew him better, trusted him more. Regardless of everything, he would never give up on her, and she wouldn't give up on him.

Wiping a tear from her eye, Seraphina continued to gaze at the two names together, unmoving.

Until behind her, the sound of footsteps, both unfamiliar and strangely comforting, approached.

Seraphina turned sharply to see Simon standing there, also holding a bouquet.

As their eyes met, Seraphina's gaze hardened. She rose to face him, her voice icy, "What are you doing here?" Simon's eyes met hers, and he said softly, "The other day, you askedif | felt any remorse for my wrongdoings. | think my answer was too self-centered." As he spoke, Simon moved past Seraphina and placed his flowers at the grave of Carney and Magdalen.

"Regardless, | should've considered you when | said those things," Simon continued. "After all, you're the one who's lost the most." Their silent exchange lingered as the cemetery's peaceful embrace enveloped them, a momentary truce in a world of unspoken grief and complex histories.

Seraphina's laughter rang through the air, clear and mocking. "Well, isn't that a rare bit of wisdom from Mr.

Martin? Should | be counting my blessings?" Simon turned to face her, taking deliberate steps until he stood before her, then spoke again, "I made the wrong call once. Don't | deserve a chance at making it right?" Her gaze snapped up to meet his, her words measured and firm, "It's not that simple." But Simon didn't bristle at her response. He simply adjusted his glasses and said, "That's okay. | can wait." With those words hanging in the air, Seraphina turned on her heel and strode away.

But just a few steps into her departure, her foot twisted beneath her. Seraphina paused, hitching up her dress to reveal an ankle already swelling with shades of red and purple.

Yet she pretended not to see it, dropping her dress back into place, determined to continue her descent.

Simon, watching her struggle, stepped forward and took hold of her arm, "Your ankle's swollen. You can't possibly walk on it."