Despite their grumbling, Goneth herded Lily and Leneth toward their shared room. Meanwhile, Manny stayed behind, washing the dishes.


    As Manny washed the dishes, the repetitive motions of scrubbing and rinsing gave way to the storm of thoughts swirling in his mind. The events of the day replayed vividly, each moment dragging him deeper into contemplation. He knew with certainty that the matter wasn''t over.


    Killing someone of the old man''s stature wouldn''t just stir the city''s law enforcement; it would ripple into something far more dangerous. Perhaps even something that reached beyond the mortal realm; alchemists, forces he dared not fully consider.


    A cold gleam flickered across his face as he came to a grim decision. Whatever the consequences might be, under no circumstance would he allow these kids to be caught in the crossfire of his impulsive actions. The choice he had made was his alone to bear, and so would be the repercussions.


    Finishing the last of the dishes, Manny quietly dried his hands. The house had fallen silent and the moon had unknowingly already risen up; Goneth had tucked the younger two into bed, and their soft, rhythmic breaths confirmed they were fast asleep.


    By the faint glow of a candle, Manny sat down at the rickety table. He pulled out a pen and paper, his hand steady despite the weight of his thoughts.


    This letter was for the kids, a set of instructions on what to do if he didn''t return after tonight and also his farewell. Manny understood that what he was about to attempt could easily be called suicide by anyone with a shred of sense. He folded the paper carefully after finishing, his jaw tightening as he stared at the words one last time.


    Quietly, he crept over to the bunk bed he shared with Goneth, placing the letter on the smaller bed beside his. Goneth, for all his youth only being fourteen—was the most responsible of them all. It was a reality that pained Manny. A boy of his age should have been attending school, playing in parks, or dreaming of adventures, not shouldering the burdens of survival. Yet, Goneth would frequently do odd jobs for whatever change he could get his hands on, ensuring their small household functioned despite their grim circumstances.


    Manny had always been grateful for Goneth''s maturity. It was the only reason he could even consider stepping away, knowing that someone capable would remain to guide the others. Goneth took on so much to lighten Manny''s load, even managing their meager finances with precision and care. Unlike Manny, who often caved to Leneth and Lily''s whims, Goneth ensured every coin was spent wisely.


    Placing the letter there felt like entrusting more than just instructions; it was handing over the fragile hope that this family could endure without him. With one last look at his sleeping sibling, Manny turned away, the weight of the night pressing heavily on his shoulders.


    Manny picked up his pipe, strapped it securely to his back, and draped his cloak over it. His gaze was steely, his resolve unwavering as he stepped out of the small house, careful to make no noise that might wake the others. The quiet night wrapped around him like a shroud, and for a moment, he thought he''d left without a trace.


    But just as he reached the edge of hearing distance, a hoarse yet familiar voice rang out behind him, piercing the silence and stopping him in his tracks.


    "Amongst the kids, you''re perhaps the only one who understands what I do outside of this house," the voice began, its tone trembling with restrained emotion. Manny froze, his fists clenching at his sides, his face contorting as if someone had thrown an onion in his path. Guilt. That voice, reading the letter he had written, churned up a guilt so deep it almost made him turn back.


    "And to be honest, I''ve never been ashamed of it. As much as I advocate for an upright life for you guys in this city, it''s hypocritical of me to go behind your backs and rob others. But I don''t care! I''m just that willful, and if there comes a day where I have to face the consequences, I''ll gladly take them on!This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    "Throughout the past few years, I''ve managed to save up quite a bit of money—enough for you guys to stay afloat for a long while, so take that money and find a better place to live, away from here at least. Just do Not stay in this area after i leave, please. Because I..."


    The voice faltered, and Manny could hear the anger creeping in, quickly suppressed but unmistakable.


    "I won''t be here, perhaps ever again. But the kindness you have done for me is something I don''t think I can ever repay, and it''s not the only reason I stayed with you kids. Because you didn''t just save my life that day—you saved me. It''s your reliance and willingness to survive, no matter how much this city pushed you down, that kept me around for this long. But today, I may have to say goodbye."


    Manny turned, his chest tight, to see Goneth standing in the doorway, clutching the letter in trembling hands. Tears threatened to spill from the boy''s eyes, but it wasn''t just sadness etched across his face;it was anger. Pure, unfiltered anger, glowing in his red amethyst-like eyes, making them burn brighter in the dark.


    The young boy glared at Manny, his small frame trembling with barely restrained fury. "You think I don''t know what you''ve been up to this past year?" His fists clenched so tightly his knuckles whitened.


    "What?" Disoriented and caught off guard, Manny barely managed to croak out the word.


    "You''ve been saving up money to give us away to an orphanage, haven''t you?!" Goneth''s voice cracked.


    Manny''s face twisted, the guilt he''d tried to bury now bubbling to the surface. "Have you been following me? How could you?" he shot back.


    "Don''t give me that!" Goneth snapped. "You know as well as I do how an orphanage owned by those damn elves would treat descendants of perpetrators like us!"


    Manny froze, he wanted to tell the boy this orphanage was different, that there was an elf out there who did not follow the rest of his kind like sheep, to justify himself but it was of no use at this point. Because then maybe he would have to also tell the boy what led up to the current predicament, His tongue heavy. He couldn''t summon a response, on some level Goneth was right. Dead right.


    In this world, the conflict between six-eared people and elves was a deeply rooted grudge that had been woven into every aspect of life. The ruler of the lands had forced reconciliation, but everyone knew it was little more than a thinly veiled truce. The prejudice lingered, manifesting in subtler but equally cruel forms. No orphanage owned by elves, would ever accept them as equals, and not as children in need.


    After a long silence, Manny turned his gaze away from Goneth, unable to meet the boy''s piercing red eyes.


    "I failed," he spat out, the words bitter.


    "You what?" Goneth''s eyes widened in shock.


    "I failed to negotiate with the orphanage," Manny said, his voice steady but tinged with defeat. He let out a sigh, meeting the boy''s gaze.


    "Then why? Weren''t you going to leave us because of the orphanage?" Goneth''s voice faltered, his anger muddied by bewilderment.


    "No," Manny replied firmly. "It''s because I failed that I have to go. Otherwise, they''ll find you guys."


    "You''re not making any sense! Who''s going to find us?" Goneth demanded.


    "The city enforcers, or worse, alchemists," Manny said grimly, his tone thick with emotion that he tried to rein in. "That''s why you need to take that money and head deeper into the slums. It''s the only way to keep you all safe."


    Goneth struggled to follow the conversation. He had assumed Manny was planning to abandon them; or, more accurately, leave them at an orphanage. A part of him even understood why. Despite cherishing his bond with Manny, he had always found him to be something of a mystery. Manny hadn''t always lived on this island, and Goneth had never pressed too hard for answers about his past.


    If there was one thing Goneth was certain of, it was that Manny''s past haunted him. There were nights when he would talk in his sleep, fragments of his dreams revealing pain that Goneth could barely imagine. Out of respect, he chose not to ask about it. Yet, he couldn''t help but pity this big brother figure, as much as he admired him.


    Manny had his own goals, his own objectives, whatever they were, and yet he still stayed. He cared for them, took on their burdens, and protected them as if they were family, despite the fact that they were practically strangers when they had first met. That thought made Goneth feel both grateful and guilty. Grateful for all Manny had done for them, and guilty that he couldn''t lighten the weight Manny carried.


    One could ask why Goneth was so angry at Manny if this was the case, and the answer was simple. He wanted him to stay. The thought of Manny leaving felt like a betrayal, as if he was disregarding how much his presence meant to them. To Goneth and the other kids, Manny wasn''t just a provider, he brought color to their otherwise bleak lives.


    It was selfish, perhaps, but that''s how children often are. No matter how much Goneth tried to act mature, deep down, he was still just a kid. And like any child, he clung to the people who made him feel safe and whole.


    Now, however, his anger had been thrown into disarray. There was more to the story than he had realized, more than Manny was telling him. He simply stood there, struggling to process the whirlwind of emotions.