Brandon was freaking out inside, but also didn't have a clue what to do next.
Harvey Ferber was a savvy player, and his little nudge hit Brandon right where it hurt the most.
All these false alarms had him second-guessing himself, scared stiff about chasing down the truth.
Hope had flared up and fizzled out so many times that part of him didn't even dare to hope anymore, and yet, he couldn't bear to let go, couldn't afford to give up.
One last time...
As he eyed the crowd below, not spotting anything amiss, Brandon kept pep- talking himself, "One last shot at believing, one more leap of faith. Maybe, just maybe, Sophia is still out there."
Clutching onto this belief, he wandered through the bustling mall, occasionally spotting his plainclothes security peeps showing Sophia's photo around, asking if anyone had seen her. But all they got were dismissive waves and head shakes.
The more he saw of it, the heavier his heart sank.
His journey - from school to mall to hotel to here - had started out urgent and certain, but was slowly crumbling with each polite but indifferent shake of the head from the passersby.
The ship's PA system and the big screens remained eerily silent, no missing person announcement in sight.
Right then, Kent's call came through.
"Mr. Crawley, there's a glitch with the equipment; it won't play."
The moment the call connected, Kent's anxious voice spilled out, "The ship's crew said it's been busted for a while, part of the reason for docking is to get it fixed. I've asked a few passengers, and they confirmed there were notices about the issue a few days back."
"Then grab some megaphones, get some mics, prep some posters of Sophia, and blast it ship-wide."
Brandon said sharply, then hung up.
"Can't you let her go with a bit of dignity?" Ivan's voice suddenly came from behind him.
Brandon turned to find Ivan, who had somehow followed him aboard.
Ivan was cool as a cucumber, but
beneath that calm was a hint of sarcasm and anger on Sophia's behalf, "You and your family never treated her right when she was alive,
now she's been gone fo
months,
and you can't seem to let her be. On top of that, you're plastering her face everywhere, making a spectacle. Do you have any clue what people might do with her photo? She loved her peace and quiet, so low-key. Why can't you just let her rest in peace? Is this your way of loving her?"
Brandon swallowed hard, his face taut, wordless.
He had mulled over Ivan's accusations before.
In recent days, he had let the reward news fade, fearing that he couldn't even afford her the last shred of
ty, worried that someone would disturb her eternal rest.
But the agony of not being able to let go was what really lurked behind all the tugging.
"Excuse me, have you seen this girl in the photo?"
Behind him, a security guy was asking passersby with Sophia's picture in hand.
Just like
thestionore, the person
questioned glanced at the t
i her," before wall and
then politely waved, "Sorry, seen her," before walking away.
Ivan's mouth curled into a cold smirk, silent but his eyes screamed sarcasm.
Brandon didn't look at him; the continuous denials from the crowd left his spirit shattered, feeling more hollow and lost than ever.
Without a word, he turned and melted into the swarm of people.
Watching Brandon's retreating figure swallowed by the crowd, Ivan's expression gradually softened.
"I'm sorry," he murmured, "the years without you were the happiest of her life."