Reborn, Its Time To Save My Family And.. My Enemy!
Chapter 270: Realize The Truth

Chapter 270: Realize The Truth

They reached the next house on the list. It had a sturdier structure, weathered but still well-maintained despite the fire a few days ago. A low wooden fence surrounded it, and a tangle of herbs grew in the garden, the only sign of life in an otherwise grim path.

Olivia stepped forward again, raising her hand to knock.

This time, the door creaked open before she could. A hunched old man stood in the doorway, leaning heavily on a cane. His eyes were cloudy but sharp, and the moment he saw them, especially Olivia, his brows furrowed.

"I know why you are here," he said, voice raspy but steady. "You are looking for answers about that night."

Looking at their surprised faces, he added. "My younger son was there when you went to the chief house. He works there. When he heard his brother’s name. He came to inform me about that. Come."

Olivia inclined her head. "We are. We were told your son was among the group involved. Can you tell us how he died? " The man hesitated for a bit but in the end, he sighed and shook his head.

The man’s lips thinned. "Yes, He was there. But that night, he didn’t die, though the village thinks he did. He should have, maybe." His gaze turned hollow. "But if it was his face that he didn’t."

Damon narrowed his eyes. "Then where is he? And why did you lie about his death?"

The old man stepped aside and pointed toward the back of the house. "He lives here, but he doesn’t leave his room, Not anymore. His face, his body was burnt beyond recognition. Fire didn’t just take his skin, it took his voice, his pride, and maybe his soul. We are just dragging a living who is worse than dead." The man closed his eyes as if it would hide his agony but his voice showed it well.

Olivia looked at Damon in confusion. If the man could not speak, he could be of no use then.

Liliana’s expression didn’t soften. "And he never spoke about what happened?"

"He could not speak the moment he woke up the next morning." the man answered. "Not to me. Not to the healer who tried to treat him. He just screamed the first few weeks... then silence. Now he doesn’t look at anyone. He just stares at the wall all day."

Olivia exchanged a glance with Damon before stepping forward. "May I see him?"

The old man hesitated, then nodded. "I won’t stop you. But I doubt he will be of any use."

"We can help him in healing if he speaks the truth, we have ways." The man was shocked. If his son was at fault, then they could not live in the village anymore. But if his son could get his health and body back, then he did not mind leaving this place for good. A decade had passed, but his son could still start a new life.

"Alright. I will try my best to convince him. But I hope you would not kill him if he could not help you. In the end, he is still my son." Lilliana snickered at the hypocrisy. But Olivia held her hand and nodded at the old man.

"We give you our word." The man looked relieved and opened the door wide.

They followed him down inside a narrow hallway. The house smelled of old herbs and burnt oil. When the door creaked open, the room inside was dim. Heavy curtains blocked the light, and the air was thick and unmoving.

A man sat in the corner on a worn cushion. His body was swathed in cloth, and what little skin showed was scarred and shiny. A mask covered part of his face, but one eye turned toward them. He had a weary, vacant eye that flicked past Olivia and settled on Damon.

The moment he saw Damon, the man flinched.

"He recognizes you," Liliana whispered.

Olivia stepped forward carefully, kneeling in front of him. "We are the family of the girl who burnt you. night. We are the family of the girl who lost her life because you did not speak the truth about the accident. Do you know why we are here?" she asked softly.

The man didn’t answer but his expression turned ugly.

"We are trying to find out what happened to the girl you called a witch," she continued. "You were there that night. You were one who survived. The others are gone. If you stay silent, the truth will die with you.""

The man’s fingers trembled slightly. Then, to their surprise, he raised one hand and pointed toward the small wooden desk in the corner.

The old man looked shocked. "He has never done that before."

Damon crossed the room quickly, opening the drawer. Inside was a leather-bound journal, old and frayed around the edges. Damon opened it slowly and scanned the first page, then flipped further.

"This is a written confession," he said grimly. "Though the writing is hard to read, it has written everything in detail."

Liliana leaned over to look, her lips parting in disbelief. "Why didn’t he give this to someone?"

"He was ashamed," Olivia said quietly, her eyes still on the broken man before her. "He lived. But he couldn’t live with what he had done."

The man looked away, tears welling in his eye. His shoulders quivered, and he curled deeper into himself.

"He tried to pretend he didn’t exist," the old man muttered. "But every day, he wrote in that journal. I never looked. I thought it was his way of coping."

Olivia stood, holding the journal carefully. "This might be the proof we need."

"But will the villagers accept it?" Damon asked. "They buried the truth long ago."

"We will make them listen," Olivia said firmly. "If they would not accept written records, then he would speak for us."

Liliana turned to the old man. "Would you stand with us when the time comes? Will you tell them your son wrote this?"

The old man was silent for a long moment, then nodded. "I should have spoken sooner. I didn’t want to lose him, not more than I already had. But if his truth can give that girl peace, I will speak."

"Good," Olivia said. "Because it is time the village realises the truth."

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