Chapter 6: The Walk to the Truth
The hallway felt colder.
Or maybe it just felt real.
The warm glow of the banquet hall faded behind them as the small group moved toward the cabinet the girl had mentioned. The sound of the party softened—replaced by the quiet rhythm of footsteps against polished floors.
The man walked in front.
The girl stayed close beside him, her small hand brushing against his sleeve but not holding it.
Behind them, the blonde woman followed slowly, her steps careful, as if each one required effort.
The woman in blue came last.
Reluctantly.
Every step she took felt heavier than the last.
“This is unnecessary,” she said under her breath. “We’re making a scene.”
No one answered.
Because now, words didn’t matter.
Only proof did.
They reached the cabinet.
It stood against the wall—simple, elegant, unremarkable.
Closed.
The man stopped.
His hand hovered over the handle for a brief second.
Not hesitation.
Just awareness.
Because once opened—
there would be no going back.
He glanced down at the girl.
“Is this the one?” he asked.
She nodded immediately.
“Yes.”
Her certainty was unwavering.
The man turned the handle.
Slowly.
Carefully.
The cabinet door creaked open just enough to reveal—
fabric.
Soft.
Folded.
And unmistakable.
The woman in blue stepped forward quickly.
“That’s just decoration—” she began.
But the man had already reached inside.
And pulled it out.
A pillow.
Covered in delicate floral patterns.
The same size.
The same shape.
As the curve beneath the gold dress.
The hallway went silent.
Completely.
May you like
The truth was no longer invisible.
It was in his hands.
