The moment Zach collapsed, the air inside the carriage grew suffocating.
"Zach! Zach, wake up!" Vivian's voice trembled as she cupped his tiny face, her usual grace shattered by pure terror.
"Turn this carriage around! Now!" Vincent barked, his voice sharp with urgency.
The coachman snapped the reins, and the carriage lurched forward, racing back toward the estate. Inside, Vincent wasted no time he lifted Zach into his arms, cradling him with a grip that was both protective and desperate. He could feel the faint rise and fall of his son's chest, but the boy remained unresponsive.
Vivian reached out, brushing strands of golden hair away from Zach's face. That was when Vincent's sharp gaze caught something a shadowy mark peeking from beneath his son's soft curls. His breath hitched. He gently pushed the strands aside, revealing a faint, bruise ike imprint circling the delicate skin of Zach's throat.
"Vivian… look at this." His voice was eerily calm, but his hands trembled slightly.
Vivian's gasp was sharp and immediate. "No… That__That looks like___!"
"Someone tried to strangle him." Vincent's tone dropped into something cold. Lethal. "And they nearly succeeded."
The moment the carriage screeched to a halt before the estate, Vincent stepped out, his son held tightly against him. Servants rushed forward, eyes wide with confusion and concern.
"Call the physician! Now!" Vivian commanded, her voice cutting through the air like steel.
Without stopping, Vincent stormed through the halls, moving with unrelenting purpose. When they reached Zach's bedroom, he carefully laid the boy on the bed. His fingers brushed against Zach's forehead as he studied his unconscious son, his blue eyes dark with unreadable emotion.
"Someone in this house has done this," he muttered under his breath. "And I will find them."
Vivian sat beside the bed, clasping Zach's small hand between her own. "Please… please wake up, my love…"
Moments later, the room was filled with hurried footsteps. The family physician arrived, followed by a wave of servants and maids. He quickly checked Zach's pulse, his breathing, and his temperature all normal. Yet, Zach remained unconscious.
"There are no signs of illness," the physician murmured, puzzled. "Aside from the mark on his neck, physically, he seems fine."
"That doesn't make sense!" Vivian's voice wavered between fear and frustration. "He was fine this morning! He ate, he walked, he spoke to us! He only reacted when we were inside the carriage!"
Vincent's jaw clenched. "That was no nightmare. Someone dared to harm my son, and I will not rest until I find them."
The estate was thrown into chaos. Every servant, every guard no one was exempt from questioning. Whispers spread like wildfire through the household. Who would dare harm the young master? How did an intruder get in? Or worse was the culprit among them?
Hours passed, and the once frantic energy simmered into an eerie silence.
Vivian never left Zach's bedside. She held onto his small hand, as if willing her warmth to bring him back. Vincent stood by the window, fingers gripping the hilt of his sword, his sharp eyes lost in thought.
Then, as the first rays of dawn crept through the curtains, Zach stirred.
A small voice broke the silence. "Zach, you sleep too much."
His vision was hazy at first, his mind still tangled in the remnants of the nightmare no, the memory. But as his eyes adjusted, he found himself staring into a pair of big, bright, curious eyes.
Mia.
His little sister sat beside him, her tiny hands clutching the edge of his blanket. Her pout deepened. "Mama said you sick. Are you sick?"
Zach took a slow breath, his thoughts still scattered, but he managed a small, tired chuckle. "I think… I just had a bad dream."
Mia tilted her head. "A really bad one?"
He exhaled softly, staring at the ceiling. "Yeah… A really bad one."
But deep down, he knew the truth.
It wasn't just a dream.
Someone had tried to kill him.
And they might still be out there.