Your Regrets Mean Nothing To Me novel Chapter 12

Torin raced from the building, the lives stream's haunting images driving him forward.

At home, he bolted upstairs, his usual composure shattered. The sight of his agitation brought their elderly butler Julian Palmer hurrying after him.

"Have you lost something valuable, Torin?" Julian asked with growing concern. "I can have the staff search."

Torin, deaf to Julian's question, yanked open each door without looking back. "Empty," he whispered. "All empty."

Memory mocked him—he'd only noticed Elysia when she picked on Rowena. Otherwise, it was as if she'd never existed. The realization struck like a physical blow.

"Torin, what happened?" Julian asked, his aged ears struggling to catch the words.

Torin spun around, desperate hope lighting his eyes. "Where's my sister's room? Where does she sleep?"

Julian's furrowed brow spoke volumes. "Your sister?"

Five seconds of stunned silence preceded Torin's outburst. "Elysia Drayton! Dad's eldest daughter—my real sister!"

"Oh." Julian's face cleared. "But didn't you always say Rowena was your only sister?"

"That's impossible." Torin's voice cracked. "Show me Elysia's room. Now."

He couldn't wait to get to know the sister he'd always overlooked. He wanted to learn about her favorite colors and her preferred styles, planning to surprise her with his newfound knowledge when she returned.

His heart plummeted as the butler led him downstairs to the servants' quarters. 'Why would her room be placed among the servants?' The dread surged with each step until he reached the hidden room at the corridor's deepest end.

The door opened to musty darkness that hit them like a wave. After the light switch failed them completely, Julian had someone bring the flashlights.

When their beams finally pierced the gloom, they revealed a tiny cell-like space, so cramped there wasn't even room for a wardrobe. A worn single bed and narrow desk with missing legs crammed the space nearly full. Damp walls shed peeling paper like dead skin.

"There must be a mistake. I'm looking for my sister's room," Torin said with disbelief.

The contrast to Rowena's sprawling pink paradise twisted in his gut. This windowless box with its sagging mattress and peeling paint held only stark white sheets bearing ghostly traces of occupancy. The oppressive stillness pressed down, suffocating in its emptiness.

"This is Elysia's room. Your father's orders, nine years ago," Julian replied.

Those casual words stabbed deep. Torin turned from the suffocating darkness. "I'm seeing Dad. Clear this out. Move her things to a proper room—like Rowena's."

On his way to the office, Torin fitted his VR headset over his glasses. This VR headset was designed to fit right over glasses, so even folks with nearsightedness could see crystal clear.

The memory projection resumed with a strangled whimper piercing the darkness, followed by an oily male voice that made his skin crawl.

"Here comes your man, pretty thing," a man said.

The darkness persisted, broken only by muffled sounds. Then memory hit Torin—the trafficker's earlier words.

The blindfold slipped away to reveal a nightmarish scene: a skeletal man, nearly naked, lunging at young Elysia with predatory hunger. She dodged, throwing herself at the door.