LSK Chapter 1

Shannon was an orphan. Somewhat ironic for a woman who majored in history, yet knew nothing of her own past.

 

Today, for the first time in years, she returned to the orphanage where she’d been raised. It was because Mrs. Jenner, the matron of the home, had reached out to her, asking if she might visit.

 

“Hello, Mrs. Jenner.”

 

“Oh my, Shannon! Come in, come in.”

 

The elderly woman, her hair now far grayer than Shannon remembered, welcomed her warmly.

 

“Thank you for coming, especially with all this rain.”

 

“It’s nothing. If you call for me, of course I’ll come.”

 

Shannon replied with a polite smile. Her gaze flickered past Mrs. Jenner to the window beyond, where raindrops clung to the glass. The droplets gathered and slipped down like silent tears.

 

Shannon had a fair idea why she’d been summoned. No doubt it was to ask for a donation, however modest, with Children’s Day fast approaching. Mrs. Jenner would have reached out to the former orphans who’d grown into ‘respectable’ adults, hoping to gather enough to buy sweets or treats for the children.

 

She still remembered those sweets, chocolates and caramels, luxurious delicacies to a child who had known none before.

 

It was only right, she supposed, to give back now. Years ago, despite the home’s meager finances, Mrs. Jenner had found a way to send her to university in Oaklow. A small gesture of gratitude was the least she could offer.

 

“Actually… I’m not quite sure how to begin,” Mrs. Jenner admitted as she poured out tea into old, worn cups, stealing a glance at Shannon’s face.

 

To ease her discomfort, Shannon spoke first.

 

“Children’s Day is coming, isn’t it? I’d be happy to make a donation. It won’t be a fortune, but it should be enough for each child to have some sweets and a new pair of socks.”

 

“Oh—thank you, dear. But… Shannon, the truth is, I called you here for another reason.”

 

Mrs. Jenner’s expression faltered as she stared at the thick white envelope Shannon produced. But Shannon herself remained calm.

 

“What is it?”

 

Was it a request to help find a job for a younger orphan? Or perhaps to assist in escorting a child being adopted?

 

“It’s about your family.”

 

The words froze Shannon in place.

 

Children at the orphanage generally fell into two groups: those whose parents and relatives had died or abandoned them completely, and those temporarily placed there by guardians. Shannon had always believed herself to be the former. And in those cases, no one ever knew anything about their families.

 

No one had known anything about Shannon’s family either. Not even who had left her there.

 

“One morning, we found a newborn swaddled in cloth on our doorstep. There was a scrap of paper with a name, Shannon. No last name, no other message.”

 

That was it. As she’d grown, curiosity about her origins had gnawed at her, but there was never a clue. No one knew a thing.

 

“A family…?”

 

Shannon managed, her voice tight.

 

Mrs. Jenner gave her a look of understanding and slid open a drawer, taking out a letter.

 

“This arrived a few days ago.”

 

Inside the envelope was a brief note and a small pendant necklace. Shannon picked up the letter first. It had no return address. The message was short. Almost like a prank.

 

“We are the family of Shannon Ambrose.

We wish to meet her.

April 7th, 9 p.m., at Iena Bridge.”

That was all the letter said.

 

It was no wonder Mrs. Jenner had hesitated for days before reaching out to Shannon. First, because of the unfamiliar surname, ‘Ambrose.’ How could she not question whether the message was meant for the Shannon she knew? And the letter itself was so curt and impersonal, it almost felt like a cruel joke. Who, after over twenty years of silence, would reach out to a long-lost family member with so little care?

 

And yet… something about the letter gnawed at Mrs. Jenner, whispering that this wasn’t a prank. Because of what was written on the back of the note.

 

A small scar on the baby’s left hand. A gray swaddling cloth. A pale pink slip of paper with the baby’s name.

 

Three pieces of information no one could have known, unless they had been there, twenty-some years ago, when a swaddled infant was left at the orphanage’s doorstep.

 

“I can’t say for certain if this is truly your family, Shannon, But whether you believe it or not… that’s for you to decide.”

 

“Thank you…” Shannon murmured, trying to steady her shaking fingers.

 

For as long as she could remember, she’d wanted to know. Who did she take after? Whose eyes were these pale, silver-gray mirrors of the sky? Whose hair had she inherited, this dark, ash-tinted brown? She’d stared into mirrors and wondered for years, always asking the same question: Who am I?

 

Now… perhaps she would finally find out.

 

It didn’t feel real. And yet, some part of her believed it because she wanted to. She wanted to so badly it hurt.

 

There was joy. And there was anger.

 

Where had they been all this time? Never once seeking her out, never writing a letter, never leaving a message. Why now? Why wait until she’d managed to grow into a so-called ‘successful adult’ before appearing out of nowhere?

 

And yet, she needed to hear the reason. Why they’d abandoned her, why she’d had to grow up alone, and why now, after all these years.

 

Why did they leave me?

 

For days, Shannon lived in a daze, clinging to that single word written on the note, ‘Ambrose.’ Her family. Her blood. It left her restless, unable to think of anything else.

 

When the day finally arrived, Shannon made her way to Iena Bridge two hours before the appointed time.

 

Her heart thudded violently in her chest, though she wasn’t sure whether it was because she was angry at them… or because some part of her still hoped.

 

As the hour approached, night fell over the city. The passersby crossing the bridge dwindled, until soon there was no one left.

 

And then, just as she stood lost in thought, gazing down at the dark, rippling water, someone shoved her, hard, from behind.

 

Before she could even turn to see who it was, before she could resist, she plunged headfirst into the freezing river.

 

In that icy moment, as the cold water swallowed her whole, Shannon realized something she’d tried to deny all her life.

 

The world was not beautiful. And for people like her, it had always been merciless.

 

Maybe it was for the best. No need to feel disappointed, no need to blame herself. It was over. This lonely, hollow life, over.

 

As the river dragged her under, Shannon didn’t even struggle. She simply blinked up at the dark water and, at last, let her eyes close in silence.

 

 

⚜︎ ⚜︎ ⚜︎

 

 

“How about a drink after shift?”

 

“Man, I’d love to, but the missus keeps badgering me to get home early.”

 

Two officers patrolled the area near the Sturn River, half-heartedly chatting to fill the eerie quiet of the dark, empty Iena Bridge in the dead of night. They just wanted to finish checking the last sector and head home. The bridge was deserted, damp, and unsettling, so they kept their conversation loud and casual, trying to chase away the gloom.

 

“What’s the deal? She trying to rope you into having a fourth kid?”

 

“Fourth? Hell no, she’d kill me before that. K-Kill me… Wait. Is that… a body?”

 

The officer who’d been cracking jokes stopped cold, pointing with a trembling finger. There, beneath the bridge, something long and dark floated lifelessly in the water. It wasn’t trash, it was far too large. And it wasn’t moving, though the current slapped against it relentlessly.

 

Just their luck. A damn corpse. And right before clocking out.

 

“Ah, shit! Goddamn it, of course it’s a corpse!”

 

“A body! Over here!”

 

Both officers instinctively backed away.

 

“What are you idiots doing? When you find a body, you check for ID first.”

 

A low, cutting voice snapped out from the shadows. The officers nearly jumped out of their skins, then quickly bowed their heads. That cold, piercing green gaze, like a whip cracking against their backs.

 

Killian Gray. Their boss. Normally easy-going, but when it came to dereliction of duty or taking bribes, he was a nightmare worse than any street thug. No one crossed him and came away unscathed.

 

“C-Chief! Sorry, sir! We— we’ll check the identity right now!”

 

A corpse…? Was it a corpse?

 

Meanwhile, somewhere in the haze between consciousness and oblivion, Shannon barely began to register the distant commotion. She still couldn’t open her eyes, couldn’t move her limbs. All she knew was that she was limp and cold, and the noise around her wouldn’t stop.

 

So cold. God, it was freezing.

 

She heard rushed footsteps. Someone flipped her over. Even then, she couldn’t lift a finger. Couldn’t even flutter an eyelid.

 

“Damn… poor girl. What the hell happened to her…?”

 

The officers recoiled as soon as they saw her face. A drowned young woman. Legend said finding one would curse you with a year’s worth of bad luck.

 

“…She’s alive.”

 

Killian’s reaction was different.

 

Without hesitation, he pressed his lips to hers, feeling for the faintest flicker of a pulse at her throat. Finding it, he quickly tilted her head, cleared her airway, and began chest compressions.

 

“Kh-cough! Cough, cough—!”

 

Water burst from Shannon’s lungs as she retched violently.

 

“Miss, can you hear me?”

 

With enormous effort, Shannon forced her heavy eyelids open, her blurred vision catching the vague shape of a silver-haired man leaning over her. His face gradually came into focus. The moment he saw her eyes open, Killian pulled back.

 

And with him, the warmth vanished.

 

The sudden, brutal cold hit her harder than before, now that she knew what it meant to feel warmth again.

 

No… Please… Just a little longer… That warmth…

 

“A-ah…”

 

With every last ounce of strength she had left, Shannon reached out and grabbed him around the neck, pulling him down with surprising force. Off balance, Killian had no choice but to fall forward, his lips crashing against hers once more.

 

His green eyes widened in shock.

 

“C-Chief!”

 

“Sir, are you alright?!”

 

Killian scowled, not bothering to hide his displeasure. He shoved her off roughly, and Shannon fell back onto the cold stone ground. She looked up at him with half-lidded, resentful eyes, mumbling something before finally losing consciousness again.

 

“…Huh?”

 

Unlike the others, Killian caught the shape of her lips in the dim light. He smirked.

 

“Why’d you save me?”

 

A crazy woman. Rescued from the river, resenting him for saving her, then brazenly harassing a superior officer.

 

Killian regarded her with an expression of pure disdain.

 

“Call the asylum.”