3 Milan, You're Home

The air outside was cold, but the atmosphere inside the car was colder. Corbin kept on glancing at the two people in the backseat. Since they couldn’t get all the seats wet, the two people soaking in the rain sat next to each other. However, the woman called Anne squeezed against the door, while Milan had his bag in between them. No one knew when the feral woman would attack him again.

As for the driver, he was still very angry. However, he didn’t take it out on his sister or on the man identified as a returning local. Moreover, he also knew Anne had the tendency to jump.

The drive back to Lasair was quiet and suffocating, but the night face of the village made Milan forget about all the others. The fearsome rain made the place gloomier than it should be, but this was the village Milan remembered growing up. On nights like this, he would have to sleep with Florence in the shed. If their father found them, he would surely crack his belt for no reason.

“Hey, Milan, how long are you staying?” Corbin asked out of nowhere, suffocated by the lack of sounds.

“Not long. If I could get everything done in a day or two, I would.”

“Everything done? Aren’t you going to wait long for the funeral to finish?” Corbin lifted his brows. If Milan opted to just spend a day, that funeral would be too short.

Milan only hummed as he leaned on the door next to him. “I don’t remember Mom having friends. The people shouldn’t take that long to say their goodbyes if they’re just one or two.”

Corbin frowned at the man. He even went to scoot in his seat to find the man that sat behind him. “Are you serious? Wait, I’ll just get Corey and Florence to argue with you about that. Then again, how long can you afford to stay? I mean, you do have a job on the mainland, right?”

At this, Milan only sighed before looking away. “Dad remarried another lady, but she’s a real psycho. He had nothing on her. When he cheated on her, she arranged for things to happen naturally. She didn’t hate me, and she’s a rich woman with no man to love or a child to spoil. She kept me to fill the part.

“Don’t worry, she treats me like a proper son, so no… no disgusting things are happening between us.”

“…no wonder you look like you’re not working to the bone…” Corbin pouted. He would envy Milan, but there were things that Corbin knew. He’d rather be him than be a Milan Sheppard.

The woman glanced at Milan. “You don’t look like a rich boy. Are you sure she hasn’t kicked you out yet? You don’t even have a car.”

Disbelief filled Milan as he heard her words. He just glanced at her without saying anything. The brother was driving the car. It was best not to agitate strangers who were ferrying him to his destination. If the woman wanted to insult him, let him be known as merciful, even for just a day.

Their conversation stopped there as they reached a house in the village. It was not the home Milan figured his mother and Florence would live in, so he figured it should belong to one of those men in front.

Corbin whispered his thanks to the other guy before turning to Milan. “This is our stop, Milan. I’ll help you settle in for the night.”

“This is your house?” Milan was more than happy to leave the car with just his bag. He didn’t even bother watching the car leave while he looked around the exterior of the big house. Even if Lasair was isolated, it didn’t mean that the houses there were old-fashioned. Or too old to look antique.

“Yeah, but Florence is staying with us for now. She couldn’t sleep in their own house.” Corbin used his key to enter, but the door opened before he could even push the key in. That was why his key stabbed someone else’s abdomen.

Corbin saw the woman react to the poke, but he only frowned at her. The woman didn’t reciprocate his blank expression, but she moved her gaze to find Milan from the gap Corbin made.

She then smiled deeply. “Milan! You’re home!”

“Not really, but hello, Corey.” Milan pulled on his lips to smile a little. This woman was making all the effort to learn social media just so Florence could talk to Milan. He was appreciative of her at most.

“This is not their house, so no, he’s not home.” Corbin rolled his eyes and forced his way inside as if moving through a crowd. He made Corey step back this way, letting Milan have the space to enter the house. “Since you want to act like his housewife, draw him a hot bath. He’s been walking under the rain for God knows how long.”

“What? Sure!” Corey hurriedly left to prepare the bath.

Milan only stayed on the inside porch to strip off his jacket and his shoes. He shouldn’t bring more rainwater inside Corbin’s house. When he saw a towel raised to his face, he lifted his head to find the one holding it up for him.

His crystal blue eyes met those gray ones that only knew little happiness. The glimmer in them was so faint, but her smile radiated her face. What made Milan freeze was that… Florence’s face had a long scar that ran from her forehead down to the side of her nose to her chin.

He quickly held the sides of her jaws and spoke in a worried tone, “That looks new. Where did you get that? Who did that to you?”

“Milan, you just got back. You must be exhausted.” Florence just unrolled the towel and used it to cover Milan’s head and dried the tips of his hair. However, the longer she pinched the smooth hair, the hollower her smiling eyes became.

“Yeah, you should dry yourself for now. Then jump into the bath, so you can sleep after.” Corbin used his own towel to rub his own hair. “Don’t you have a lot of things to do to compress your stay? Yeah, Florence, why don’t you make some soup for your brother? I’m hungry, too.”

“Okay.” Florence left a smile with Milan before moving to the kitchen like a ghost.

Before Milan could ask Corbin, the other man already stared at him with some kind of cold eyes. “That was from your mother. That was the last thing she gave Florence before Florence ended up gutting her. Your sister doesn’t like it, either. Just pretend you don’t see it, or else she would pick on it again.”

Milan froze. “What?”