The room Mariana had prepared was none other than the old Lorena room. Everything inside - the bed, the dressing table, the study desk, it remained exactly as it had been years ago.
This stark reality revealed a deeper truth: Treva Ritshel hadn't purchased a new property at all. The only alteration was the fresh coat of paint on the walls, a superficial change that barely masked the years of neglect.
Yet, it was clear the new owner had no intention of repairing or renovating the house. the creaky floorboards, and the faint smell of dust and memories lingered, untouched by any effort to restore or renew. The house was a silent witness to the past, holding onto its secrets and scars.
Lorena had left this house when she was still in high school, a time when her future was uncertain and the path ahead unclear. She was too young then to decide where or how she would live next, caught between the innocence of youth and the harsh realities of life.
Despite the hardships, Lorena had been fortunate in one respect. Mr. Ritshel hadn't just bought the house. He had acquired all the existing properties tied to it.
For Lorena, this meant her school fees were covered until graduation, a lifeline that allowed her to focus on her studies without the crushing burden of financial worry.
Meanwhile, she moved into a smaller, more modest house to save costs. A sacrifice she accepted willingly. It was far better than the alternative: living in an orphanage.
During her school years, Lorena worked part-time jobs to support herself. She had no family to rely on, no safety net to catch her if she fell. Every penny she earned was crucial for survival.
She often thought back to the day she moved out of the old house. She hadn't taken all her belongings with her; the rest remained locked away in the basement, safely stored under Mr. Ritshel's promise.
That basement was more than just a storage space. It was where Hansel kept the mysterious crystal, an object wrapped in enigma and significance. The crystal had always fascinated her, a symbol of something greater, something powerful.
Now, standing once again in the old Lorena room, she felt a surge of determination. Perhaps this was the right moment to venture into the basement, to reclaim what was hers and uncover the secrets hidden beneath the floorboards.
Lorena came out of the room and went to Mariana's room. He saw Mariana knitting. He knocked on the door very slowly, so Mariana wouldn't be bothered.
Mariana smiled at Lorena.
She came in. She saw the scattered threads of knitting. "What are you knitting?"
"This sweater is for my daughter." Mariana said softly. Her fingers deftly weaving the pink thread through the fabric. Even though the knitting was not yet complete, the delicate pattern and the soft hue of the yarn made the sweater look beautiful.
She smiled wistfully as she continued. "It will be her birthday soon. She wanted a sweater gift. She must be very happy with this sweater." Her voice carried a mixture of hope and melancholy, as if the act of knitting was both a joy and a bittersweet reminder.
Lorena watched her closely, noticing the quiet solitude that seemed to surround Mariana. The house was still, with no signs of children's laughter or toys scattered about. A question formed in Lorena's mind, and she asked gently. "Then where is your daughter?"
Mariana's smile faltered for a moment, a shadow crossing her face. She replied quietly. "She lives with her father after we were divorce."
In that small, quiet room, amidst the half-finished sweater and the lingering scent of yarn, two women shared a moment of understanding, one shaped by love and loss.
She felt that she shouldn't have asked about her daughter. She understood what Mariana felt. But she felt Mariana was still luckier than she was. She had a chance to see his daughter.
Lorena felt the weight of sadness settle heavily in the room, a quiet melancholy that seemed to linger in the air after Mariana spoke of her daughter.
she gently decided to steer the conversation elsewhere. "I remember before I moved, I left some of my stuff. Mr. Ritshel said he kept it in the basement. Have you thrown it away?"
Mariana looked thoughtful for a moment. She admitted. "I don't know, it seems like it was there. Since I moved here, I've never actually gone down the basement at all."
Her words brought a wave of relief to Lorena. If the belongings were still there, it meant no one had disturbed the crystal.
Encouraged by this, Lorena asked cautiously. "Can I go into the basement? I want to get my stuff."
Mariana nodded, but with a hint of concern. "Of course you can. But are you going to do it now? I think tomorrow is better. It's getting late."
Lorena smiled, grateful for the understanding. "Of course not. I'll do it tomorrow. I'm just asking your permission. After all, you have the full right to this house."
She felt a quiet blessing in this moment, as if fate was making it easier for her to reclaim what was hers. She noticed the tiredness in Mariana's eyes, the strain of juggling life's burdens. "You'd better continue this tomorrow. It's getting late, don't push yourself."
Mariana sighed. She didn't even notice it at almost midnight. "You're right. Then I'll fix it. You should rest too."
"Good night." Lorena stood and walked toward the door, but her steps faltered. She wanted to leave Mariana with a kind word, something to ease the sadness that had briefly clouded the room. Turning back, she smiled warmly and said. "Your daughter is very lucky to have a mother like you. It makes me jealous."
Mariana's face softened, a genuine smile breaking through the weariness. With that, Lorena left Mariana alone in the softly lit room, the night wrapping around the house like a gentle embrace.
***
"This room is very dusty." Lorena muttered under her breath as she stepped cautiously into the basement.
The air was thick with the stale scent of neglect, a heavy silence broken only by the faint creak of old wooden beams and the distant drip of water somewhere unseen. It was no surprise though the basement had clearly been abandoned for years.
Everything inside was covered in a thick layer of dust, and many items had succumbed to rust and rot. Lorena wasn't even sure if there was anything salvageable, let alone anything worth carrying away.
At least she brought some of her stuff. Because she had already informed Mariana of her intentions.
Her fingers trembled slightly as she opened a cardboard box placed near the top of a precarious stack.
She found her mother's clothes inside the box. It faded but preserved beneath the dust. She carefully lifted a dress her mother had often worn, its light brown chiffon fabric delicate and soft despite the years.
"I'll take this." Lorena whispered, a bittersweet smile touching her lips. The dress was more than just fabric. It was a tangible connection to her mother, a piece of the past she could hold onto.
Her thoughts drifted to Mariana's daughter. Lorena recalled the little girl's absence and the tender way Mariana had spoken of her. She searched through the basement.
After some rummaging, she found a box filled with old toys and accessories, dusty but intact. She decided to take these as a gift for Mariana's daughter, a gesture of kindness and connection across their shared loneliness.
Hours passed as Lorena sifted through the cluttered basement. But the crystal the object she sought above all remained elusive.
She was certain Hansel had hidden it here. She wondered aloud, frustration and doubt creeping into her voice. "Did he lie? But he wouldn't lie. Then, where did he put the crystal?"
After the massacre, Hansel hid the crystal that Fay fiend was targeting. He put it in the basement.
In the quiet despair of the moment, Lorena's thoughts turned to Hansel himself. She wished, more than anything, that he was still alive. If he were, everything would be simpler.
Just as she was about to give up, a fragment of memory surfaced Hansel's words echoed in her mind. "Ren remembers this well. It's about Crystal. Door – my birthday – my name."
Afterwards, Lorena stood up slowly, the weight of the basement pressing down on her. She repeated the words softly, almost like a chant. "Door, Hansel's birthday, then Hansel."
A spark of realization flickered in her eyes. Perhaps the clue to the crystal's hiding place was hidden in those words, a puzzle waiting to be solved.
She pondered the meaning, her thoughts circling back to the simplest clue she could grasp Hansel's birthday. She whispered to herself. "Could it be the floor? Hansel was born on January 20."
Carefully, she began to count the floorboards beneath her feet, stepping deliberately and counting aloud. One, two, three... until she reached the twentieth floorboard. Now came the choice: the hidden floor might be to the right or to the left.
"The right or left floor?" Lorena hesitated for a moment, then decided to check both sides to be certain.
She first knelt down and tested the floorboards on the left side. They were solid and immovable, refusing to budge no matter how much she pressed or tried to pry them open.
Frustration crept in, but she was determined. She muttered, considering her options. "Seems like I have to destroy this floor first."
Then she moved to the right side, placing her feet carefully on the twentieth floorboard. To her surprise, the floorboard beneath her shifted slightly, swaying under her weight. She stomped her foot several times, confirming the movement.
She sighed. "This must be."
Lorena knelt down and pried open the floorboard. Beneath it lay a small, ancient chest, its surface engraved with the word. Her fingers trembled as she lifted the lid, revealing the crystal nestled inside, glowing faintly with an ethereal light.
"Diaphanite. I've found it." She whispered, a wave of relief and triumph washing over her.
She was excited to have found the crystal. With it, she could finally aid Mr. McVeigh and Ansel in their battle against the Fayfiend, the monstrous enemy that had destroyed her family.
For her, this was not just revenge. But it was revenge for the death of his family. In the end the moment she was waiting for would come soon.
Along the time, she had remained silent, paralyzed by trauma and the overwhelming sense of helplessness. Nevertheless, she knew that she was weak and couldn't do anything, she was reminded in silence.
Because if she fought, it meant she had to sacrifice his soul.