Chapter 552:

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Kristopher’s eyes narrowed, shadowed by a flicker of something darker. “A shame we didn’t get to meet Quentin this time. He’s far too cautious to dirty his hands with something as crude as a bomb exchange.”

He lifted his gaze to Dayna, instantly noticing the subtle pinch between her brows.

“There will be other chances, though,” he said calmly, though the undertone was clear—measured and warning. “If your first strike doesn’t bring the enemy to their knees, then you wait. Watch. And strike again.” It wasn’t just advice—it was concern laced with experience. Kristopher feared that Dayna’s fury might lead her to recklessness, and by then, it might be too late to undo the damage.

Dayna took in his words, her lips tightening into a line of resolve. “I know. We have to infiltrate their core. Until then, we’re stuck in the shadows. This trip… was a dead end.”

𝖮𝘳𝘨а𝗇і𝗓𝗲 𝘺𝘰𝘂𝘳 𝗅𝗶𝗯r𝗮𝗋y оn 𝗀а𝗅𝘯𝗈𝘷el𝘀.𝘤o𝗆

Lucas leaned back with a dismissive wave. “Why the long face? Come on! I heard Chicton’s practically a food paradise. I say we treat this trip like a mini-vacation and devour everything the locals rave about.”

Dayna didn’t bother answering. Her silence was a chasm too heavy for levity. The pain of her parents’ tragic deaths still clung to her ribs like a phantom weight—ever present, pressing, suffocating. Until her vengeance was complete, peace would remain a distant luxury.

Just then, her phone vibrated in her pocket with a sharp buzz. It was Nell. She answered swiftly. On the other end, Nell’s voice was tight with urgency. “Dayna, where are you? Come quickly—something’s happened.”

Still seated in the car, Dayna glanced sideways at Kristopher and Lucas. “Text me,” she said curtly, her instincts already coiling in unease. There was a tremor in Nell’s voice she hadn’t heard in years.

After navigating the storms of high society, Nell had grown into a woman unshaken by scandal, negotiation, or chaos. For her to sound like this… it had to be serious.

Moments after the call ended, her phone lit up again—a photo from Nell. Dayna’s breath caught. It was a picture of a child, maybe four years old, skin pale as moonlight, eyes startlingly light—almost translucent.

He sat curled up on a couch, terror etched into every line of his small frame.

Who was this little boy? Where did he come from?

A second message came through.

“This is what I meant. Someone left him outside the studio this morning.” Another photo followed—this one a crumpled note scrawled in shaky ink. My child has a rare disease. We can’t afford treatment. Please… if the Wraith Physician still exists, help him.

Dayna stared at the image of the note, then at the boy again, her gaze softening.

The signs were unmistakable. She knew this illness. Congenital. Cruel. Expensive beyond imagination. That the boy had survived to this age spoke of his family’s desperation, of love stretched past its breaking point. Abandoning him at her studio’s door might have been their final, hopeless prayer.

She tapped out a response. I’ll be on the first flight back to Arkmery. Keep him safe and take good care of him. Have a full medical report ready. I’ll see what we can do.

Okay, Nell replied.

Kristopher, who had been silently watching her, finally broke the silence. “What happened? You look disturbed.”

Dayna handed him her phone, her brows knitted. “Someone left a terminally ill child at Nell’s studio.”

It had been a long while since she’d donned the mantle of the Wraith Physician. Her prices were steep, her time even more limited. Maybe her retreat from the spotlight had pushed these desperate people to the edge.

Kristopher scanned the messages and photos quickly before returning the device. “I’ll help dig into this.” Then, after a pause, his voice softened. “Will the Wraith Physician save him?”

“Of course. A true healer doesn’t choose who’s worthy. The Wraith Physician would never ignore this child.”

But even as the words left Dayna’s lips, her heart sank. She had seen conditions like this before. They rarely ended with hope.

Without delay, she and Kristopher booked the soonest flight to Arkmery. At the airport, they parted ways with Lucas, who, ever the dramatic one, kept waving a tissue in the air after dabbing his imaginary tears.

“Come visit again when you can!” he cried theatrically. “Or I’ll be lonely, sobbing into my soufflé!”

Dayna rolled her eyes and tugged Kristopher by the sleeve, sparing Lucas not even a smirk.

By the time their plane touched down, dusk had swallowed the sky.

Dayna didn’t follow Kristopher home. Instead, she made her way directly to the studio, where Nell sat stiffly on the couch, eyes locked on the small figure curled beneath a blanket. Relief washed over her face the moment Dayna stepped through the door.

“Oh, thank God you’re here,” Nell whispered. “I really didn’t know what else to do.”

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