Chapter 29

“WE’RE here…” Ace announced as he pulled into Peterson’s residence.
She looked in the direction of the farmhouse and saw his employers standing side by side by the front porch, waiting for them.
Sybil waved her hand at them the moment she got off the car.
“Go and greet them. I’ll take care of the luggage,” Ace told her upon getting off.
“Are you sure?” She turned to him.
“Yeah.” He flashed a smile. “You didn’t bring too much anyway.”
Sybil brought a few pairs of clothes, some personal items, and her painting materials. Those were enough for her to survive a week away from home.
Ace pushed her gently when she didn’t move an inch.
“Welcome to our humble abode, Sybil,” Mrs. Peterson said when she reached the front porch.
“Thank you so much for letting us stay here for a while, Mrs. Peterson.” She smiled and turned to the husband afterward.
“Please, do call me Amanda. There’s no such need for formality,” the woman countered and gestured to her husband with a smile. “This is my husband, Henry. I bet you know him well.”
“Of course.” She nodded consecutively. “Who could’ve forgotten about him? He’s very prolific at delivering fresh milk around the neighborhood.”
They all laughed at that.
“Sir, Madam,” Ace greeted when he arrived.
“Henry will show you to your room,” said Mrs. Peterson. “Sybil, would you mind helping me out in the kitchen?”
“I don’t mind.” She beamed and followed the woman inside the house.
She couldn’t help but look around as they sauntered to the kitchen. It was her first time entering the farmhouse. It was beautiful and pristine. She heard it had been founded many years ago by Mr. Peterson’s ancestors.
“You like it, don’t you?”
She glanced at Mrs. Peterson, who was waiting for her by the kitchen’s entrance.
“Yeah. I love its vibe.”
“Oh, dear… what an old soul you are.” Mrs. Peterson strode to the oven and took out her pie. “I made some lemon pie. Ace mentioned last time that this is one of your favorites.”
“O-oh… yes. Let me make the tea then.”
Sybil moved around the kitchen as though it was her own. It wasn’t hard to get what she needed since everything could be seen above the kitchen counter.
“I wasn’t able to talk to you yesterday when we went to your place.”
She opened the stove before turning to Mrs. Peterson.
“Oh.” She clasped her hands. “I’m so sorry about that.”
“Don’t worry. I understand you’re quite busy entertaining the other guests.” Mrs. Peterson caressed her arm. “I just want to tell you about our offer. We told Ace anyway.”
“Thank you so much, Mrs.—Amanda. Ace and I are grateful to you and your husband.”
“Henry’s very concerned after he heard what happened. He loves this place, and both of us couldn’t believe that something like that incident has been happening in our neighborhood nowadays. It seems the world is changing….”
Sybil heaved a sigh.
“That’s right. The world’s getting scarier.”
“Anyway, have you told Sonja that you will stay with us in the meantime?”
“I… uhm… can’t contact her.”
“Perhaps she’s busy taking care of your mom.”
“D-do you know her?” She asked out of the blue.
“Who? Your mother?”
“Y-yeah.”
Mrs. Peterson didn’t know about her real identity. Nobody knew except for Sonja. Both of them decided to stick to their story that she was her sister.
“Well, Annie’s family moved out of Tennessee when she was just a kid. I’m just surprised that Sonja moved here a few years ago, and then you joined her last year.” Mrs. Peterson’s brows furrowed. “Is there something—”
“Nothing!” She shook her head. “I was just wondering why everyone’s very concerned about me. Now I understand….”
“Oh, dear.” Mrs. Peterson patted her cheek. “Whether new or not, your neighbors would be concerned about you because we’re one big family here. Though our houses are kilometers apart.”
They both laughed.
And then the kettle whistled.
Sybil turned off the stove and poured the hot water into the teapot.
“I think it would be nice to eat on the front porch. What do you think, Sybil?”
“Oh, I like that idea.”
“Let me get you a tray.”

IT was their first night at the Peterson’s farmhouse, and they couldn’t sleep. Sybil decided to take a quick bath, hoping it would help her sleep, but instead, it kept her even more awake. The same thing happened with Ace. Now they were lying on the bed, facing each other.
“What?” Sybil asked, breaking the silence between them.
“Hm?” His brows furrowed.
“Why are you staring at me like that?”
Ace heaved a sigh and shifted. He was lying on his back and staring at the room’s ceiling.
“Hey…” She moved closer and went on top of him. “Is there something wrong?”
If the situation was a bit different, Ace could’ve been immediately turned on by that. But his mind was filled with lots of thoughts and worry.
There was something that he couldn’t tell her yet… that his memories were slowly coming back. Lately, he had been dreaming lots of it. Sometimes he would feel overwhelmed and woke up in the middle of the night, getting flashbacks of those memories in his mind. However, everything seemed to be fragmented. The highlights weren’t there yet. Ace still didn’t know who he was and what kind of life he had been living. Though he had a hunch that once his memories were back, there could be a problem between him and Sybil.
He would leave, for sure. But he didn’t want to leave her behind because he had already fallen for her. Ace couldn’t bear to be away from her.
His hands went to her sides and gently caressed her there.
“There’s nothing wrong, okay.” He let out a sigh. “It’s just that I couldn’t sleep, and there’s nothing to do—”
“Well… I know something we can do…” she whispered.
Sybil lowered her body to him and showered his face with butterfly kisses down to his neck.
“Are you sure we’re doing this here?”
He caught his breath when Sybil grabbed that thing between his thighs.
“Hush…” He felt her grinning as she kissed his neck. “Let’s keep this quiet.”
Ace let out a groan. How could he keep himself quiet when she was turning her into a madman?
“Sybil… Perhaps we should—”
He couldn’t finish his sentence when she suddenly pulled down her shorts. The next thing he knew, his eyes were tightly shut while his hands clenched hard against the sheet.