Try Begging - Chapter 164.1

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As soon as he arrived at the train station, Leon boarded the night train back to Winsford.

On the opposite platform stood a night train heading south. Through the open doors and windows, the train inside was already buzzing with a festive atmosphere. In contrast, the train heading west was eerily quiet and sparsely populated, far removed from the summer vacation buzz.

Leon boarded the train and opened the door to the first-class sleeper car, signaling Campbell to go in.

“Take a rest for now.”

“Yes, Major….”

Since the woman’s disappearance, Campbell had been hesitating every time he greeted him, unsure of what to say. There were no longer good nights or peaceful nights for him.

“…Rest well for tomorrow.”

Nodding, Leon entered his compartment and leaned against the closed door, pressing his throbbing forehead with his hand.

For tomorrow.

He laughed, or rather, it was a laugh that sounded almost like a sob.

There was always an expectation that tomorrow would bring something new, even though he knew it would lead to today’s disappointments. It had been pointless to book the sleeper car. In the end, he hadn’t even laid down on the bed and was heading to the lounge instead.

Late at night, the lounge car was empty.

Leon sat alone, sipping from a whiskey glass, puffing on a cigar until the case was empty, and flipping through the newspaper.

[ Your nieces and nephews miss you. ]

As the familiar advertisement caught his eye, he exhaled the cigar smoke with a sigh. Where could she possibly be? Despite searching every corner of Wakefield, he hadn’t even received a report of Grace’s sightings.

The due date was mid-May, though it was now already mid-July, well into summer. Logically speaking, Grace should have given birth and been recovering by now. So, the fact that nobody had been found yet suggested that the likelihood of her having died during childbirth was low.

But until Leon could see with his own eyes that she was safe, he couldn’t be sure of anything.

As he absentmindedly flipped through the personal adoption ads, he paused, holding his whiskey glass, and let out a resigned smile.

There was no way he would find a child here.

He knew only the approximate birth date of the child. He didn’t know the hair color, iris color, gender, or any other minor details. So, whether he was looking through ads or searching through orphanages nationwide, he had no way of recognizing his own child.

Yet, he kept flipping through the newspaper, feeling like a deranged lunatic obsessed with an irrational fixation.

As his hand flipped through the social section, it froze when he saw an article about a baby’s body found in a rural ditch. His mind screamed with a voice filled with rage.

“Before your child calls me ‘mom,’ I’ll kill it in front of your eyes.”

‘If that’s the case, at least keep your promise and do it in front of my eyes. You’d want to see me go mad, wouldn’t you? You’d want to see me dying of thirst for you. Then, come and see it.’

Leon rested his forehead on the hand holding the cigar and let out a weary sigh.

Has she really abandoned all resentment and interest in him? Through the clattering noise of the train, the woman’s voice repeatedly asked the same question.

“Are you unhappy?”

Yes. So, are you happy?

‘No, are you even alive?’

But instead of an answer, the woman only repeated the same question.

Are you unhappy?

* * *

“Yaawn…”

The child giggled at the sound of Grace’s yawn, perhaps finding it amusing.

“It’s not playtime. Eat quickly.”

“Hee… ooo…”

Waking someone up at this early hour to complain about hunger but then not eating and just playing. Grace forced the child to latch onto her breast. As the baby began to suckle quietly, she resumed her mental calculations of her finances.

Cash was running low.

‘Should I sell more gold?’

Grace glanced at the wardrobe. Inside was a safe containing her entire fortune. The diamonds were intact, but three of the gold bars were missing.

‘Should I ask the broker if they’re interested in buying more?’

Two of the gold bars had been sold at the bank, but the last one was sold to the real estate agent who had introduced her to this apartment. It wasn’t so much a sale as it was a rather unique transaction.

“Ah, is there a place nearby that offers good rates for gold? Whether it’s a bank, jeweler, or even a pawnshop would be fine.”

Grace had asked this question while getting recommendations from the real estate agent about local shops or decent restaurants, realizing it on a whim.

“Gold, you say?”