After that day, Esme's life became a relentless pursuit of answers. Her mind refused to let go of the lingering questions, the inconsistencies, the gaps in the story of her parents' lives and deaths. It had been over half a decade since their tragic accident, but every attempt to uncover the truth seemed to hit a wall—or worse, disappear into thin air.
She started small, combing through the remnants of her childhood home. But her aunt and uncle had been thorough in erasing every trace of her parents. Even the pictures in the Valhale family estate had been destroyed. Only a few grainy phone photos and fragmented videos had survived the purge, but they weren't enough. They gave her glimpses—her father laughing, her mother brushing her hair—but no concrete answers.