Chapter 4

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Raven's POV:

Two weeks have now passed and the most we have is a single strand of black hair and a possible escape route. But that hasn't stopped us. Damian and I are working day and night to find clues, but it feels like the case has gone cold.

I was sitting in Damian's office, trying to finish some paperwork so he was less behind, while also trying to distract my mind. I looked up only when a servant came into the room with a silver tray.

"Ma'am a letter has arrived, addressed to you and your husband." He bowed and held out the tray for me. I grabbed the letter and looked at the unfamiliar handwriting.

"Who sent it?" I asked as I took it.

"There was no name. It was delivered by a small village boy. No more than eight." The servant answered, knowing exactly what I was asking.

"Alright," I nod in understanding. "You may leave."

He left and I opened the envelope, reading it.

Dear Damian or Raven (whoever gets this first),

Your daughter is safe, that I can assure you. You probably don't even know what Emma's birth meant, but I assure you, she has a purpose and so do you. I can't return her now, but I assure you, she is spending some quality time with her grandmother.

Most sincerely,

T.

I stand up, my feet feeling numb as I walk out the door. I hold the letter close to my chest as I rush to Bruce's office, knowing that Damian and his brothers are all in a meeting right now. I don't even bother knocking before I enter.

"Raven?" Bruce asks, standing up. "What is the matter?"

"Damian," I say, my voice shaking.

"What happened?" Damian turned, standing up and coming over to me.

"Your mother," I hand him the letter. "It has to be her."

"What are you talking about?" Damian asks as he grabs the letter and starts reading.

"What is going on?" Bruce comes over and looks over Damian's shoulder to read the letter. "What does this have to do with Damian's mother?"

"How do you know it was my mother?" Damian looked up from the letter.

"Because my mother died in front of me. I am pretty sure there are only so many grandmothers that Emma could have." I grabbed the note and point out the 'T'. "Your mother, what was her name again?"

"Talia," Bruce answered for Damian. "Of course, how could I have not seen this sooner? Your mother was always wanting power. Maybe she believes that because she couldn't raise Damian, she can raise Emma her own way."

"I am going to kill her," I clutch my hands, fire burning through my veins.

"First, we need to find evidence that my mother even has Emma. We can not just barge into there without having a plan," Damian takes my hands in his. "We don't even know if this letter is real or just a ruse."

"Then find out," I shove the letter into his chest. "It's been almost three weeks since Emma was taken from us."

"We will find her," Bruce came over and placed his hand on my shoulder. "And I will have the spies that are already planted in her palace let me know if they have spotted Emma. We will have a word before nightfall."

"Good," I nod.

"When did this letter arrive?" Damian asked. "Any by who?"

"You will have to ask the servant for more information," I tell him, not sure if I can think straight at the moment. "His name was Petro."

"Call for Petro," Damian orders the servant in the room.

"Yes sir," the servant bows.

A few minutes later, Petro was in the room, answering Damian's questions. Bruce stood beside me, listening as I did. "You should get some rest," my father-in-law whispered as my husband integrated the servant. "Someone will wake you if we get word."

"I feel I am needed here," I shake my head.

"We will do just fine without you," Bruce steps in front of me so I would face him. "Please, get some rest."

"Alright," I nod, giving in.

"I will inform Damian that you are resting," Bruce gives a soft smile of encouragement before I turn and leave the room.

I head back into my own room, instantly falling on the bed. Bruce was right to say that I looked exhausted. Though I find some time to rest here and there, I haven't fully slept since Emma was taken.

Thinking I will just rest my eyes for a few minutes, only to wake when the sun is down. I slowly wipe the sleep out of my eyes, seeing Damian sitting in the corner, reading a file. "Hey," I say softly.

"Hello," Damian looks up and gives a soft smile. "No word from my father's spies yet, but he is hopeful to hear something soon."

"What are you reading then?" I stand up, stretching.

"A file on my mother," he places the file on his desk and turns to fully face me.

"Why?" I ask as I come over and sit on his lap.

"I don't really know her that well," Damian confesses. "I only met her a few times, and each time was not very memorable. I asked my father for these files so I get to know her better. Get into her head to understand why she might do this."

"Ah," I nod, understanding.

"But I have come up with nothing yet," Damian sighs in defeat.

"Have you slept?" I asked, knowing he has gotten even less sleep than I have.

"I was planning to go to bed soon," Damian clearly lied.

"Get ready," I stand up. "I am going to the bathroom, and then both of us are going to bed."

"Alright," he nods.

I go to the bathroom and quickly change into my nightgown. When I get back out, Damian is changing in his closet. A second later, he comes out and I slip into bed as he comes over. "Father will inform us if anything happens."

"I know," I nod as I bring up the covers.

"Maybe I should just stay awake a while longer in case we find something out?" Damian seems to hesitate.

"If I am forced to rest, then I am forcing you to rest too," I scold him, not wanting him to wear himself out. "So please, stop arguing with me and get in bed."

"Of course," he nods and slides under the covers. "You are always right, beloved."

"I know," I smirk before kissing his cheek and cuddling close to his chest.

Fleeting HopeOnde histórias criam vida. Descubra agora