Prologue

Ever since she could remember, the young master had been a genius. Whatever he did, he was good at it. As if he was born with the knowledge. As if he had some magic power. To Zina, it was a mystery. To his parents, a miracle and something to brag about.

Mostly young master had an aloof expression. One that showed, he was not interested and mostly detached. Zina had only seen him act all excited when young master was a child.

Back then, his mother, the lady was out for some weeks and told her little son, she would bring him a lots of toys. This was something that had made the toddler so excited, he would go around the big mansion, his presence accompanied by a young boy's sing-sang voice, "Mommy, mommy, where are you? Mommy, mommy, what will you bring?", he would sing for the weeks until she actually arrived.

Other than that, it was hard to imagine the usual aloof and detached boy to be someone who could be excited for something, anything. Whatever young master touched, he was good at it. Yes, it was hard to grasp, Zina could be happy if her own child could just get through the school year with passing grades while young master would be frustrated at why he didn't get 100 points instead of 98 points. 

Life had been blissfully calm for the years that had come. For sure. It was almost too calm. Like the calm before a storm. 

[Present Day]

It was a summery weather. After a long year, the summer vacation had finally shown, making all the students be at peace. This summer was especially warm. With all the insects roaming around as well as the sun standing high in the sky. And yet, despite this, it gave this whole time period a rather calm atmosphere.

A peaceful sound of humming could be heard, enveloping every being in the vicinity of the source in a melody that soothed every sense. It didn't make anyone forget about the punishing heat outside but a simple hum did give them solace, reminding them of the better days.

The small yet firm hands from years of hard work were gently folding the dry clothes. Laudry was on the list right now. Grocery shopping was next. The ventilator was going on full speed and yet it did nothing to make this agonizing heat go away.

The gentle humming did continue, however. Continued providing solace to those who needed it. Zina's eyes wandered to the staples of clothes. It was a routine. Every Sunday was a laundry day. In any kind of vacations, the days seemed to blur into a one big day, making it hard to keep the days in check. If you didn't work with a schedule, that is.

The folded clothes were brought to the wardrobes where they belonged to. With a peaceful stride, Zina's body moved through the well-lit hallways. Going from one walk-in wardrobe to another, organizing the clothes. Occasionally, she would encounter other workers. Then she would nod, chat a bit and then continue with the task at hand.

After having finished the task, she went to the kitchen. It wasn't small either. There was a kitchen counter in the middle, building an island. An empty space surrounded it like water where you could move freely to have access to the drawers and cupboard on the walls.

She drank water. Nothing sweetended. Just water. Hydration on a day like this was important. Now she was getting ready for heading out to do the grocery shopping. A few cotton bags, some money. Now all she needed was-

"Have you seen young master anywhere, Zina?" Her track of throughts was interrupted by the voice of her coworker.

Zina's figure was crouching down as she was looking for something in a cupboard. Her hand hanging down like a snake at her knees. She looked up before standing up.

"Young master? Come to think of it, I haven't seen him all day. I was wondering, if you saw him anywhere." Zina asked Avy.

The blonde woman shook her head, looking rather concerned. "No. That is why I am looking for him. Mr. Ayers wanted to talk to him but couldn't find him anywhere. You know, after what happened a few days ago." Avy looked with an expression on her face which showed, they should not word what had happendd two days ago.

It was rather unusual. For Mr. Ayers, their employer and young master's father, to reach out to his son.

Now all of her plans meant nothing. Young master's whereabouts were more important. Had he gone off to meet some friends? Been kidnapped? This wouldn't be surprising, actually. Considering the wealth and fortune that was associated with Family Ayers.

Everyone stopped whatever they had been doing. They were all trying to find their young master. Calling his friends, asking the security didn't help. Young master was skilled enough to slip away without being noticed.

This reminded Zina of that time ten years ago when young master had gone away on a sleepover without informing Mrs. Ayers. It had been the same as just now. It was rather inconvenient but of utmost importance. The security of young master.

After a few moments, Zina was given a task. To pack young master's things. There was confusion written all over her face but she knew better than to question the orders from above. That was how she made her way through the familiar hallways until she reached the room of young master.

It was big, to say the least. So spacious, a whole family could live here without any troubles. Her feet carried her to the walk-in wardrobe where she had earlier placed the clean clothes. Now, she took them out again, along with anything young master will need for wherever he was going and a suitcase.

She was thinking of a two-weeks trip. Something young master had often done. It also meant, Zina had packed his bags a lot of times and knew what the 17-years-old boy might need.

As soon as she was done, she rolled the suitcase through the hallways again. Her pace started to slow down. She heard the voice of Mr. Ayers. And of young master. With just a few steps, Zina arrived at the room where the voice came from.

Mr. Ayers seemed annoyed. It was very rare to see him like this. He was usually calm and collected, stoic even. "Leave. I don't want you slacking off at my residence anymore."

Zina felt her heart drop. Young master was being kicked out? Why? Her eyes graced upon the suitcase where her left hand was resting at the handle.

"What? Why?" The words sounded irritated. The hum had stopped a while ago. There was nothing that could calm this situation now. Nothing at all.

"Zina, give my son the suitcase so that he can leave." Mr. Ayers just ignored the question of young master. Why? Young master was just 17 years old. He had done nothing to offend any family member. So, why?

With a nod, Zina approached the boy who was taller than her. She handed over the suitcase. His expression showed disbelief which ignited a sense of pity and empathy in her. For the young master she had seen growing up over the years.

Her boss's voice rang through the room again. "Find an ambition. Make a name for yourself but do me a favor and don't use the surname my legacy gave you. Only then, you will be welcomed back into this residence."

That was all. Zina's eyes followed every small movement on young master's face. The slight twitch, then the breath he let out. Young master turned around to leave.

The footsteps echoed through the mansion that had just lost the vibrant ambiente from earlier. Everything had come to a halt as they saw the pride of this family leave the mansion.

"Nevan!" The name fell almost instantly as soon as young master had turned around and approached the gate.

Mrs. Ayers ran towards her beloved son. Zina could definitely understand what a mother would feel at this moment, being a parent herself. It was no less than a heartbreak, seeing your child leave your home.

Zina couldn't hear what was being discussed between the mother and the son. Nevan, young master, had the same stoic expression that reminded everyone of Mr. Ayers. Mrs. Ayers pressed something in the boy's hand before turning around and entering the mansion again.

After that day, there was no sign of Nevan Ayers, the heir of this family. The relatives were told, he was in a camp. At the mansion, everyone knew he was somewhere out there, doing something on his own.