Dad is Back From a Deserted Island - Chapter 3

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Father has returned from the Deserted Island
Chapter 3

The Attic Room remained shrouded in darkness despite the afternoon hour. The only light filtered through a window smaller than Vivian’s height.
“I’m scared….”
Vivian sniffled and crouched beneath the meager shaft of light, though dust kept triggering fits of coughing.
“Dad—”
No matter how mournfully I called out, the father who had gone to heaven never answered.

* * *

Evening arrived with the first drops of rain.
Vivian’s head bobbed and swayed as she wept, wringing out every ounce of moisture from her body. Her chin dipped lower and lower.
Perhaps it was a mercy that exhaustion dragged her toward sleep. The rainy evening had cast the Attic Room in an even more oppressive gloom.
As Vivian surrendered to slumber, a chill raced down her spine and goosebumps erupted across her skin.
“W-what is that?”
With ears perked like a rabbit’s and anxious eyes scanning the darkness, Vivian suddenly locked gazes with a pair of luminous eyes watching her from the shadows.
Squeak, squeak.
“….”
Squeak?
“Kyaaaaaaah!”
Vivian shrieked at a pitch that shattered glass as she encountered the Attic Room’s first uninvited guest—a rat.
If only it had been smaller, it wouldn’t have terrified her so.
If only it hadn’t gleamed those eyes in the darkness, she might have felt less dread.
The creature appeared larger than her own forearm. Vivian bolted toward the door in blind panic.
“Ow!”
Her foot caught on a scattered box, sending her tumbling across the floor in a chaotic roll, yet adrenaline numbed any pain.
“Sir! Ma’am! P-please open the door! I’m sorry! There’s a rat—a rat in here! I’m terrified! Waaaaah!”
Her small fists pounded frantically against the door. Footsteps approached, growing louder—someone had heard the commotion.
Vivian’s face brightened. They were coming to let her out!
But then—
Boom!
“Kyak!”
A violent kick struck the door from the other side, startling Vivian backward. An irritated voice followed.
“Ugh, I’m trying to eat dinner! What’s the fuss over a rat? If you don’t want to be locked up until Sunday, keep quiet!”
“S-sir, I’m sorry. Please, please let me out. I’ll apologize to Peter. I’ll kneel if you want me to. I’m so scared. Please? I don’t even need bread. I’ll work hard. I’ll do whatever you ask!”
Even as the child’s voice pleaded pitifully through sniffles, the man beyond the door remained unmoved.
Ron, who had been clicking his tongue while picking food from between his teeth, spoke.
“You’ll do anything I tell you to?”
“Yes, yes! Please, sir!”
“Hmm, alright. Wait here a moment.”
Soon after, the sound of a key turning in the lock echoed—click, click.
Vivian, who had been crouched on the ground until now, sprang to her feet.
“Thank you so much, sir!!”
Ron, as if annoyed, didn’t bother responding and simply waved his hand, gesturing for me to follow.
Fearing he might change his mind, Vivian quickly attached herself to Ron’s heels.
‘Ow.’
As Vivian descended the Stairs behind Ron, she felt a sharp pain and looked down at her hand.
When she had stumbled while fleeing from a rat, her palm had scraped against the floor, leaving a wound. Since a little blood was seeping out, she quickly wiped it away on the apron she was wearing.
“What? Honey, why did you let her out already? Just a moment ago you said we should keep her locked up for at least two more days.”
Mary, who had appeared in the Dining Room upon seeing Vivian, immediately frowned. Peter, seated across from her, gave Vivian a spiteful look.
“She’s done enough to deserve it, so I let her out. Vivian, sit there for now.”
“Yes!”
Upon hearing that they had planned to keep her locked up for two more days, Vivian answered with spirited determination.
‘Now that I think about it, it’s been so long since I’ve sat at the table!’
Ron and Mary had never allowed Vivian to sit at the table. To begin with, they had only thrown her a single hard black bread to eat, so there had been no occasion for her to dine at the table anyway.
“Mom, my elbow hurts.”
Peter whined to Mary, displaying the wound from his fall on the Stairs. Finding his behavior utterly contemptible, Vivian twisted her lips in displeasure.
“Oh, let’s eat first and apply medicine later, my son.”
“Okay. But medicine stings and I don’t like it.”
“Still, you need to apply it so it heals quickly.”
“….”
As Vivian watched the affectionate exchange between mother and son, her expression grew increasingly dark. The reality that she could never receive such tenderness struck her deeply.
At that moment, Ron, who had stepped away, returned. In his hands were a sheet of paper and an ink bottle.
“Look, Vivian. See this here? Dip your thumb in the ink and press it onto this paper.”
“What… what is this?”
“Does it matter? You said you’d do anything I tell you, so stop asking questions and just press your thumb.”
Though something was written on the paper, Vivian, who had never properly learned to read, couldn’t understand what it meant at all.
As an ominous premonition gripped her and Vivian hesitated, Ron suddenly seized her arm and yanked it toward him.
“Ow! It hurts, sir!”
“You can’t even read, so why are you being so cautious? What, do you think I’m trying to do something bad to you?”
‘But you’ve done so much already!’
Swallowing the words she couldn’t bring herself to speak, Vivian tensed her body as much as she could and resisted.
But a malnourished child could never match the strength of an adult man.
Ron practically poured the ink over Vivian’s hand.
As pain shot through her arm as if it might be torn from its socket, tears welled up in Vivian’s eyes.
“Ow, ow—it hurts.”
“If you don’t want it to hurt, sign it quickly!”
The paper Ron thrust forward so crudely was none other than a betrothal contract.
A document containing a promise that Vivian de Langbert and Peter Dozier would marry once they came of age.
He had obtained it earlier when he took Peter to the Doctor’s Office.
Normally a signature would be required, but for young children who couldn’t write yet, a thumbprint sufficed.
Just as Ron forcibly straightened Vivian’s thumb to press it onto the paper—
Bang, bang, bang.
Someone pounded violently on the Front Door.
“What? Who’s out there pounding on someone else’s door like they’re trying to break it down?”
“You go check. Something urgent might have come up.”
Mary urged Ron on with an irritated voice. Ron released Vivian’s hand and stormed off angrily.
‘Ow, it hurts.’
Vivian bit back a whimper, rubbing her throbbing hand with her other palm. Whoever had come to the door—she wished they would just drag Ron away. The pain was so intense it made her heart ache with that desperate longing.
But it seemed the heavens had suddenly taken a whim to grant Vivian’s wish.
“Aaaahhh!”
“Darling! What’s wrong? Who is it?”
Ron let out a scream. Mary jolted up in alarm and rushed toward the entrance to see what was happening.
“Kyaaah, y-you—how are you—!”
As Mary shrieked as well, both Peter and Vivian’s heads turned naturally toward the doorway.
“A g-ghost!”
“Peter! Our son!”
Mary rushed urgently into the Dining Room. Ron backpedaled, seeming to block whatever was trying to enter the Dining Room.
‘What is it? Did a bear show up?’
Vivian wondered if she should escape under the table.
“Mother!”
Peter clung to Mary’s embrace, and she wrapped her arms around her son protectively. At that very moment, the intruder entered the Dining Room.
A head taller than Ron.
Brown hair darkened further by rain.
The man’s face was covered in unkempt stubble, and his muscular frame was so massive that even his great cloak couldn’t conceal it.
As the man’s gaze swept rapidly across the Dining Room as if searching for something, his blue eyes fixed upon Vivian.
The fierce intensity that had radiated from him moments before suddenly dissipated.
“….”
A small frame that hadn’t changed much since he last saw it. The plump cheeks that had once looked healthy were now hollow, and her eyes were red as if she’d just been crying, her lips chapped and swollen.
To anyone’s eyes, she looked like a child who had been mistreated.
The man swallowed down the surge of emotion and called out to Vivian.
“My daughter.”
His voice carried the weight of sorrow, yet brimmed with longing and affection.
Though it had grown somewhat hoarse, the voice was unmistakable.
No—rather, it was the voice she had yearned for even in her dreams, the voice she had desperately wished to hear.
Vivian’s eyes swelled in round circles, her vision blurring with moisture. She wiped away her tears roughly with her dusty sleeve before gazing at the man.
Vivian’s lips parted.
“Who are you?”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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