She glances at the screen and sees it's her mom, still at work.
"Yeah, Mom?" Grace answers casually, settling deeper into the couch.
"Grace, I have a conference at the Kingston Hotel this Saturday. Do you want to come along as a plus one?" Her mom's voice comes through clearly, a tone of practicality in her words.
"Kingston Hotel? Where is it? Isn't it, like, a four-hour drive?" Grace asks, surprised.
"Yeah, but there are some really beautiful mountains behind it. You'd like it. So, are you coming or not? I need to make the reservation for the hotel now."
Grace thinks for a moment. She loves anywhere near mountains, and the idea of a weekend getaway is too tempting to pass up.
"I'm coming," she says without hesitation.
"Great. I'll book two rooms then," her mom responds. "Oh, just a heads-up, I heard some news in the neighborhood. There's a strange guy who's been walking around in all black at night. Just be careful. Always lock the door and make sure to check before opening the door if someone rings the bell."
Grace feels a chill run down her spine at the mention of the strange man.
"Wait, what?" she mutters, looking out the window as her mother finishes the call. "A strange guy going around the neighborhood?"
She stands up abruptly from the sofa and walks to the window, peering out into the dimming sky. Her neighborhood is usually peaceful, with few people walking the streets at night. But tonight, it feels different. Empty.
She stares out at the quiet streets, her mind racing.
"What if that strange guy is…" she whispers to herself, the thought lingering in her mind.
But then she shakes her head, trying to dismiss the thought.
"No, no, I'm just overthinking things…" Grace mutters as she walks back to the window and pulls the curtains closed, blocking out the view of the world outside. She turns away and makes her way to her bedroom, but the thought still lingers in her mind. "But what if… it really is him…"
"Enjoy your time," her mom says with a smile as she heads into the hotel conference room.
Grace nods in response, watching her mom disappear through the large doors before turning her attention to the outside. The hotel lobby doors open, and she steps out into the crisp, bright autumn day. The air is fresh, and the green mountains stand tall in the distance, bathed in the warm glow of the afternoon sun. The weather is perfect—mild and pleasant, just warm enough for the short-sleeved white t-shirt she's wearing.
She breathes in deeply, feeling the cool breeze on her skin.
"Okay, so here I go," Grace murmurs to herself, pulling out her phone and opening the map to find her way to the mountain she's been wanting to climb.
The path is narrow, winding through quiet streets lined with trees. As she walks past the hotel entrance, she notices the steady flow of cars pulling in, unaware that at that very moment, Julian's car turns into the hotel driveway.
The annual anniversary meet-up for the society he's been part of for over 120 years is about to begin in the grand ballroom of the hotel.
Julian parks his car and steps out, greeted warmly by a hotel employee who hands him the key to his room.
"Thank you," Julian says with a brief nod, walking toward the lobby.
Inside, the air is thick with the anticipation of old friends reconnecting, and Julian can't help but feel a thrill as he walks through the elegant lobby, heading toward the ballroom. He's looking forward to seeing the people he's known for so many years, a society that's meant so much to him. These were the faces that had become his family, and in a way, the connections he'd built over time had helped shape him into who he is today.
As he approaches the entrance, he can feel the excitement building—a mix of nostalgia and joy at the thought of the reunion awaiting him inside.
The ballroom is alive with the soft glow of crystal chandeliers hanging overhead, their light casting a warm radiance over the room. Tables are laden with drinks, cakes, pastries, and an assortment of exquisite foods, all elegantly catered to suit the occasion. Around twenty members, both young and old, fill the room, a mix of those who were once part of the society and those who are still active in its operations. The chatter is light and jovial, blending with the clinking of glasses and the rustling of soft conversations.
Kate stands at the podium, a microphone in hand, her smile soft yet commanding as she looks out over the crowd.
"Thank you all for making the time to join us for the 120th anniversary of our society, which, as you all know, still remains nameless," she says, her voice smooth and welcoming.
Laughter ripples through the crowd. It's a running joke—the society's continued secrecy, so old and influential, yet still anonymous, with its work carried out covertly and without fanfare. To the outside world, the anniversary event is simply an environmental society reunion.
Kate surveys the room proudly, her eyes catching Julian's across the crowd. He stands beside Eugene and several former members—men and women who had worked alongside him in efforts to rescue people from human trafficking.
Her gaze lingers for a moment, and she smiles warmly at him, before returning her focus to the crowd.
With a graceful touch to the microphone, Kate continues, "I know our founder doesn't particularly enjoy being the center of attention, but it hardly makes sense not to bring him up. After all, he knows every history of our society better than anyone else. June, please come up and share a few words with us."
The sudden request catches Julian off guard. He smiles and shakes his head, a little baffled by the unexpected spotlight. The members, however, turn toward him, their faces full of smiles, all silently urging him to take the stage. Julian hesitates for a brief moment, caught between reluctance and the warmth of the group's affection.
Chuckling softly to himself, he steps forward and makes his way to the podium.
Kate, with a sheepish smile, hands him the microphone, whispering, "Sorry."
Julian grins, signaling that it's no trouble, and takes the mic from her, the hum of anticipation in the room filling the silence as he prepares to speak.
"Well…" Julian begins, his gaze sweeping across the room, lingering on the faces of both the former and current members. His voice softens slightly as he takes in the sight of the gathering. "It's… strange, in a way, to see all of us—old and new faces—together here like this. It's a reminder of how much time has passed, and yet, how our bond has remained unbroken."
He pauses, his eyes flickering briefly to the side, where a few former members stand, their weathered faces carrying stories of years spent in the shadows of the society's work.
"And, of course," Julian continues, his voice growing more thoughtful, "it also brings me to think of those former members who have passed on. They may no longer be with us in body, but they are always here—here in our hearts, in our memories, and in the legacy they left behind."
There's a soft murmur of agreement from the crowd, the weight of his words hanging in the air, a subtle nod to the sacrifices that have been made over the years.
Julian takes a deep breath, his gaze lingering on the faces around him, before giving a slight, appreciative smile.
"We carry them with us always, and tonight, in their honor, we celebrate everything that this society has achieved. Thank you, all of you, for being part of that journey."
It's evening, and the sky has already darkened. Still, Grace feels a deep sense of satisfaction mixed with the exhaustion of her long climb up and down the mountain. Her legs ache, but she's content, the quiet peace of the hike lingering with her.
She walks into the hotel, her gaze naturally drawn to the signs for the anniversary and conference, both pointing in opposite directions.
This hotel really hosts a lot of events, she thinks as she walks over to the elevator.
She presses the elevator button, the soft click echoing in the quiet lobby. When the doors slide open, she steps inside and scans her key card. Room 1105. With a soft press, she selects the 11th floor.
Alone in the elevator, she watches the numbers above her head steadily climb, each ding marking the passing floors. The motion of the elevator is soothing, lulling her after the day's exertions. As the door dings on the 11th floor, Grace steps out, ready to rest.
She walks down the hallway, noting the quiet ambiance. At the end of the hall, she turns left, following the signs that point her toward room 1105. She has no baggage with her—her mom had already sent everything up ahead of her.
Standing in front of the door, she scans her key card and enters. The room is simple yet elegant, with two double beds, a clean, quiet atmosphere, and just the right balance of lighting—not too dark, not too bright. It feels like the perfect space to unwind after the day's adventure.
Grace walks to the window and pulls back the curtain. The view of the night mountain is breathtaking. The soft glow of the moon illuminates the peaks in the distance, casting everything in a surreal, tranquil light.
"Wow…" she murmurs softly to herself, her gaze fixed on the mountains below, the stillness of the scene calming her further.
She turns away from the window and heads toward the bathroom. Stripping off her clothes, she steps into the shower booth, letting the warm water cascade over her body. It's exactly what she needs—refreshing, soothing, and deeply relaxing.
But just as she starts to settle into the sensation of the water, she hears it—a soft knock, knock on the door.