Mystery: Gray Walker

Chapter 27: The Dejected Sister, the Middle School Boy in His Second Year of Middle School

After going upstairs, Green went straight to the bathroom and rinsed his body with warm water, washing away the dirt, sweat, and fatigue. He stood in the steam with his eyes closed, enjoying the rare feeling of comfort.

The thrill of promotion, the fleeting sense of loss of control, the vigilance of being watched... these chaotic thoughts gradually settled in the sound of water.

After showering and changing into clean pajamas, Green felt much better. He walked out of the bathroom, drying his wet hair, and paused as he passed Sura's room.

The door was tightly closed.

Green hesitated for a moment, raised his hand as if to knock on the door and ask her how school was today, but in the end he put his hand down.

"It's getting late, Sula should be asleep by now."

He turned and walked towards his room. After locking the door, Green went to the window to check the situation outside again. The street was still quiet and there was nothing unusual.

Only then did he feel relieved enough to lie down on the bed. A wave of exhaustion washed over him, and almost the instant his head touched the pillow, his consciousness began to fade.

Everything I experienced today, from the anxiety of the morning to the thrill of the promotion, from the excitement of the ability test to the vigilance of being followed, and then to the daily conversations with my aunt and uncle after returning home, these scenes flashed through my mind quickly before finally sinking into darkness.

Green is asleep.

His dreams were peaceful, like sinking into a warm seabed. Only occasionally would some blurry fragments of images about space and doors flash across the edge of his consciousness, but they were all fleeting.

I slept without any dreams.

......

Green woke up precisely when the first rays of morning light shone into the room through the gaps in the curtains.

He opened his eyes, but instead of getting up immediately while lying in bed, he first assessed his physical condition.

The fatigue has mostly disappeared, and I feel refreshed and clear-headed. The mental pain from overusing my abilities yesterday is also gone; it's as if I've fully recovered after just one night's sleep.

"Are the recovery abilities of extraordinary individuals stronger than those of ordinary people? Or is this merely a characteristic of Sequence 9 'Apprentices'?"

He sat up and stretched his shoulders and arms. His muscles were a little sore, a result of moving files yesterday, but it was within acceptable limits.

Morning light streamed through the gap in the curtains, casting a pale golden band across the floor. Green walked to the window and drew back the curtains—

Outside the window, fine snowflakes are falling silently.

The first snow of the year in Oberhavn.

The snowflakes were small but dense, like a thin veil covering the streets. Rooftops, roads, and tree branches were all covered with a light layer of white.

The distant port appeared hazy in the snow, and the sound of ship horns became muffled.

"It's snowing," Green muttered to himself.

When he changed his clothes and came downstairs, Aunt Sylvia was already busy in the kitchen. The aroma of frying bacon mixed with the tantalizing scent of toasted bread filled the air.

Good morning, Auntie.

"Good morning, Green." Aunt Sylvia glanced back at him. "It's snowing, remember to dress warmly. I've prepared a thick coat for you; it's on the coat rack in the hallway. Your dirty shirt is here; I'll wash it for you in a bit."

"Thank you, Auntie."

"Breakfast will be ready soon. Go and wake up Sula and Emily."

"it is good."

Green went up to the second floor and knocked on Sura's door.

"Sura, it's time to get up."

There was no response.

He knocked again: "Sura? It's snowing, don't you want to see?"

It remained quiet.

Green frowned and gently pushed open the door.

Inside the room, Sura was already awake, sitting on the bed, hugging her knees, staring blankly at the snowflakes falling outside the window. Hearing the door open, she turned her head, glanced at Green with empty eyes, and then turned back.

"Breakfast will be ready soon." Green tried to keep his voice gentle. "Go wash up and come down for breakfast, or you'll be late for school."

Sura didn't answer or move. Green stood in the doorway, watching her slender figure.

"I miss Mom... Brother... Did Mom and Dad take you to snowball fights when you were little?"

"Sura..." Green wanted to say something, but ultimately swallowed it back.

He had never met the original owner's mother, Selene Maurice.

To be precise, when he transmigrated, he and his siblings were already staying at their aunt's house.

He had seen the original owner's family photo. In the photo, the father was a middle-aged man with a gentle face, and the mother was smiling gently, holding young Green with one arm and baby Sura with the other.

But after the original owner's father died, his mother also disappeared, as if she had vanished into thin air.

There was no farewell, no letters, nothing at all.

Emily said that Aunt Sylvia cried secretly for a long time because of her father Avi Morris’s death, her mother Selene’s sudden departure, and the responsibility of taking care of two children.

During that time, Aunt Sylvia's emotions were very unstable. She would often lose her temper with the two siblings over trivial matters. The oppressive atmosphere during that period made the already silent Sula even more withdrawn.

"Brother?" Sula turned her head, a hint of cautious expectation in her eyes. "Do you remember when Mom took us to have a snowball fight?"

Green's heart sank slightly.

That warm longing for his mother was an emotional imprint belonging to the original owner of the body. He only had some vague impressions pieced together from fragments of memory.

"Of course I remember," Green said softly, walking to sit down on the bed. "That year, it snowed a lot. Mom made us hot cocoa and even built a snowman in the yard. You were little then and always threw snowballs at your face."

After saying that, Green clutched his stomach and deliberately made an exaggerated laughing face.

"Really?" Sula chuckled at his expression, her eyes still glistening with tears from earlier.

"Really. There seems to be a photo in the family album. Let's look for it together later," Green said confidently.

Sula smiled, but the corners of her mouth slowly turned down. She lowered her head and whispered, "I miss her."

For a moment, Green didn't know how to comfort her. He opened his mouth, but in the end, he just reached out and gently ruffled Sura's hair, whispering, "Me too."

After he finished speaking, a brief silence fell over the room.

Looking at Sura's lowered head and slightly trembling shoulders, Green sighed inwardly.

He suddenly jumped up from the bedside, hands on his hips, striking an exaggerated pose. "But! Miss Sula Morris! You must know, sorrow is like winter snow, cold though it may be, it will eventually melt! And hope is like spring buds, it will always break through the soil!"

He paused, a slight embarrassment on his face, but seeing Sula look up at him with a somewhat blank expression, he could only grit his teeth and continue:

"Mom must be watching over us from somewhere! She would definitely want to see us happy, not frowning all the time! So, cheer up, Sura! Face each day with a smile; that's the best way to remember Mom!"

Sula blinked, seemingly bewildered by her brother's sudden 'speech'.

Green himself felt his cheeks burning, and was about to say something to make amends when his gaze inadvertently swept over the clock on the wall—

The pointer was pointing sharply to the starting point, 45 minutes ahead!

"Oh no!" Green instantly switched from 'motivational speaker' mode to 'panicked older brother' mode. "Sura! You're going to be late!"

Sula also looked up at the clock with a start, her eyes widening instantly.

"Oh no—I'm going to be late!"

She sprang out of bed and frantically started looking for clothes. Then she remembered she hadn't washed up, so she rushed barefoot to the bathroom, only to turn back halfway to get a comb.

"Where are my socks? The blue ones from yesterday!"

"Here it is!" Green picked one up from the foot of the bed and found another under the chair.

"My schoolbag! My notebook is still in my schoolbag!"

"Your schoolbag is on the desk!" Green tossed her the socks, turned to grab his schoolbag, and said, "Hurry! There are only fifteen minutes left!"

"My hair clip! The one with the bow!"

Green rummaged through a pile of odds and ends on the dressing table and finally found the light blue bow hair clip.

By this time, Sula had finished brushing her teeth, her face still wet with water droplets, and she was frantically putting on a sweater.

"Lower your head a little!" Green pinned the hair clip to her messy hair.

"Thank you, brother!" Sula mumbled, a comb still dangling from her mouth.

Two minutes later, Sula, barely dressed and with her hair still a little messy, stood in the center of the room, panting.

"Is it done?" Green asked.

"Alright!" Sula grabbed her schoolbag and ran.

"breakfast!"

"There's no time to eat!"

"No!" Green grabbed her arm. "At least take something to eat on the way!"

He dragged Sula downstairs. Aunt Sylvia was just coming out of the kitchen with fried eggs when she saw the two of them and was startled.

"What's wrong?"

"We're going to be late!" Green said, grabbing two slices of bread from the table, adding bacon and a fried egg, wrapping them haphazardly in parchment paper, and shoving them into Sura's hand. "Eat at school!"

"My milk—" Sula stared longingly at the cup on the table.

Sylvia simply picked up the glass and handed it to her: "Drink as you walk! Be careful not to spill!"

After seeing Sura off, Green breathed a sigh of relief and turned back into the house.

Sylvia had already returned to the kitchen, and her voice came from inside: "Green, you should eat quickly too, don't be late for work!"

"Here comes, Auntie."

Green walked to the table and sat down. Uncle Victor had already finished eating and gone to work, leaving only Emily at the table. She was eating her fried egg in small, stiff bites, her head down.