Lisa leaned back into him, her hands resting over his.
Canary lowered his voice, thoughtful and careful.
"Lisa…" he said slowly, his breath warm against her ear, "did you ever try to look for your parents?"
She didn't respond right away. Her gaze remained on the stars, her smile fading just slightly, her fingers tightening a little around his.
"I mean…" he continued, not wanting to push, "I know you grew up in the orphanage. But I've always wondered if you ever tried to find them. Or if you wanted to."
Lisa was silent for a moment longer, then she exhaled softly.
"I used to," she said, her voice low and steady. "When I was younger, I used to believe they'd come looking for me one day. I waited by the gates every birthday, every holiday, thinking maybe that would be the day."
She paused, then let out a small laugh empty, distant.
"But they never came."
Canary's arms instinctively tightened around her.
"I tried asking once. Aunty Sofia the woman who ran the orphanage she told me all she had was a note and a name. No address. No answers. Just that my parents had left me when I was a baby. Said it was for the best."
Canary stayed silent, letting her speak.
Lisa tilted her head back slightly to rest it against his shoulder. "I guess I stopped searching when I realized I didn't need them to be whole. I learned how to take care of myself… even if it meant not having anyone to call mine."
Canary lowered his head gently and kissed her temple. "But you have me now."
Lisa smiled faintly, a bit of that sadness still lingering. "I know. And that's the first time those words have ever felt real."
Lisa's fingers slowly reached for the small pendant that hung at her chest—a delicate charm of a crescent moon cradling a tiny star. She held it between her fingers, the metal catching a soft glint of moonlight.
"Do you remember this?" she asked quietly.
Canary glanced down at it, then nodded. "The necklace you lost at Phantom Island."
Lisa smiled faintly, her thumb brushing over the charm. "I thought it was gone forever. But I found it again… tucked into the old satchel I had that day. I must've missed it somehow."
She looked up at him, eyes glimmering with a mixture of nostalgia and wonder.
"It's the only thing I have that might've come from my parents," she said. "I've had it since I was a baby. The sisters at the orphanage said I was wearing it when they found me."
Canary looked at the pendant for a long moment, then at her.
Then he smiled—soft, full of warmth. "Since I'm your family now," he said gently, "I guess I'll have to give you something even more beautiful."
Lisa blinked, caught off guard. "Really?"
He chuckled lightly and reached for her hands. "Really."
Then, without breaking eye contact, he guided her to turn around and face him, his hands slipping to her waist.
"Lisa," he said, his voice low but firm with emotion. "I promise to love you… to cherish you… to protect your smile, your heart, and your stars—every single day."
She didn't speak.
She just looked at him, wide-eyed, her lips parted slightly, as if the words caught in her throat.
Then he leaned in… and kissed her lips, soft and slow. A kiss that wasn't rushed or hungry, but full of every unspoken vow he had just made.
Lisa melted into it, her hands sliding around his neck, the necklace between them a small symbol of where she came from, now caught between the arms of the man who had become her home.
___
The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, and Joel stepped into the sleek, dimly lit hallway of the Grand Rithmore Hotel, one of the most luxurious spots in Annetorz. His polished shoes made no sound against the thick carpet as he walked toward his suite, a single keycard in hand and a mind racing with buried plans.
Inside, the room was exactly as he'd ordered—minimalist, high-end, and silent. The city skyline stretched beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, glittering like a net of gold. But Joel didn't take in the view.
He dropped his bag beside the couch, loosened his tie, and immediately reached for his phone.
He dialed fast no hesitation. It rang once.
"Hello?" came the cautious voice on the other end. A woman. Quiet. Nervous.
"It's me," Joel said sharply, walking toward the window. "Did you find out anything about the baby?"
There was a pause. Then the nurse sighed, her voice barely above a whisper.
"I told you, these things take time. The child wasn't registered normally. There's no public record tied to the mother's name."
Joel's jaw clenched. "And the DNA test? I gave you what you needed."
"I'm working on it," she said.
Joel's eyes narrowed as he looked out over the city lights.
"Find that baby," he said coldly. "And I don't care what it takes."
Then he ended the call.
The room fell back into silence, but inside Joel, something stirred an obsession, a secret deeper than anyone at Andersons Group would ever guess.
---
The gates of the Anderson mansion closed softly behind Canary's car as he pulled into the driveway
The place stood as grand and silent as ever, but the moment he stepped inside, the faint aroma of herbs and spices filled the air comforting, warm, alive.
He followed the scent into the kitchen, where he found Lucy humming lightly, wearing an apron, her hands busy stirring something over the stove. Her silver bangle clinked softly against the pot.
"Mom?" Canary said, a brow raised. "What's going on?"
Lucy turned around, her eyes bright. "Oh, you're back! Sit, sit—I'm just happy today."
She practically guided him to the dining table like he was ten years old again, placing a fresh bowl of mushroom soup in front of him.
Canary tasted it, eyebrows lifting. "It's… sweet," he said, blinking at the surprising twist.
Lucy laughed. "I tried something new. Maybe now I'll start cooking more often."
He studied her for a second longer, then asked, "Are you really just happy? Or is there something else?"
She smiled again, a bit too easily. "Joel's gone. Isn't that enough reason to feel peaceful? No more walking on eggshells, no more worrying."
Canary's expression shifted his eyes narrowing slightly.
"You're happy your brother left?" he asked, his voice calm but low, warning in its tone.
Lucy hesitated, the smile faltering.
Canary leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table. "Mom, I already know."
"Know… what?" she asked, a little too fast.
"I know Joel's not just angry for no reason. He lost his wife and child. And I know you had something to do with it."
Lucy's face drained of color. She stepped back slightly, her hands instinctively tightening around her apron.
"You how did you…?"
"Does it matter?" Canary said, standing now, his voice firmer.
"The question is why didn't you ever tell me the truth?"
Lucy looked away, lips trembling, suddenly robbed of her earlier glow.
The kitchen filled with a heavy silence, broken only by the soft bubbling of the soup on the stove.
"I did what I thought was right," she whispered.
"Right for who?" Canary asked.