Rebirth Of The Forgotten Heiress - Chapter 36: Chapter 36

Xavier hesitated, the memories of last night still fresh in his mind. "You're not going to look for them? Do you know something?"
Quinlyn studied him with newfound appreciation after witnessing his actions the day before. "You're still too green for this," she said, ruffling his hair. "Best leave the grown-up matters alone. Who knows—by the time this trip's over, you might be crying like a baby."
"Crying like a baby?" He frowned, not following.
"Sure. Or maybe you'll be welcoming a new baby," Quinlyn added with a careless wave of her hand. "Depends how things play out."
When he just stared blankly, she clicked her tongue in exasperation. "What do you imagine a man and woman get up to alone, if not sharing a meal or rolling around together?"
Understanding dawned on Xavier instantly. Rich kids always caught on quickly.
Quinlyn patted his shoulder, her voice dripping with mock sympathy. "There, there. No tears now—your time will come." She couldn't blame him for sulking—as Yalena's devoted lapdog, he had every reason to take it personally.
Xavier knocked her hand away. "I'm not crying!" he snarled. "And what the hell is this about a baby?"
Quinlyn suppressed a sigh as she noted how he always latched onto the least important details.
She stifled a yawn before replying, "It means exactly what it sounds like. You're not a child anymore. Use your head instead of waiting for explanations." Without another word, she turned on her heel and retreated to her room.
The door clicked shut, leaving Xavier motionless, lost in thought for a long moment. At last, he shook his head, dispelling the daze.
'Am I out of my mind?' he thought. 'Why do I let Quinlyn steer me like this? What if Yalena's really in danger? Wait, I can't believe I stayed silent when she mocked me.'
The building had fallen into silence. Everyone had gone out to search for Yalena and Zachary—everyone but Quinlyn and Yasin, who remained downstairs.
Exhausted, Quinlyn had dropped onto the bed and slipped straight into a dream. In it, she was searching alongside the others, frantic, scanning every shadow for Zachary. When she finally spotted him lying motionless, a sharp pang shot through her chest.
She reached for him, but her hand jerked forward and smacked his cheek instead. With a sharp hiss of disgust, she spat to the side before spinning on her heel and striding away.
When she woke, the house was still hushed. Daylight glowed beyond the windows. A glance at her watch told her she'd barely slept an hour.
She licked her lips, her gaze drifting to the bananas on the corner table. After a moment's hesitation, she crossed the room and picked one up.
She had no immediate plans to go out, but this was the perfect time to stockpile potential weapons—things like banana peels included.
After devouring two bananas in quick succession, she patted her stomach contentedly and went to wash up.
Downstairs in the hall, Yasin sat sideways on a chair, his frame leaning against the window as he stared out at the falling rain. His expression was uncharacteristically grim.
"Hey," she said, moving closer. "What's wrong? Did those guys come bother you first thing this morning?"
Yasin kept his eyes downcast, releasing a weary breath. "They know better," he murmured. And they did—Yasin wasn't just any crew member; he was the one who enforced the rules.
When he didn't lift his head, she brushed her fingers across his forehead. The heat radiating from his skin surprised her. "You're burning up."
"It's nothing serious," he muttered, brushing off her concern.
Everything else about him appeared unchanged—that same defiant gleam in his eyes, the familiar set of his jaw. Only his usually neat hair stood in disarray, the strands sticking up at odd angles like a ruffled bird's feathers.
She kept her voice low but insistent. "Has the fever been lasting long?"
"No. I'm fine," Yasin muttered, staring out the rain-streaked window, his frown deepening with each drop that hit the glass. "The rain is so annoying." The childish complaint sounded strange coming from his usually composed self.
Quinlyn tried to sound optimistic. "It'll probably stop soon." Their trip was almost over anyway.
But Yasin's scowl only darkened, and she knew exactly why—he'd been so confident last night, swearing today would be perfectly sunny.
'Tough luck for us,' she thought. 'We're just the supporting cast. The dramatic weather is for the protagonists.'
"We are still having crab tonight," he muttered, hugging a cushion to his chest, his lips pressed together in displeasure.
Quinlyn dug through their supplies and pulled out the extra cold medicine. "You should skip the crab. Doesn't mix well with these. And we were supposed to take everyone crabbing, but now they're all out searching for Zachary and Yalena."
Yasin sat frozen for several seconds before grabbing the medicine with clear irritation. The silence stretched uncomfortably until he suddenly stood up, stretching his stiff limbs. "Let's go," he said, finally breaking the tension.
Quinlyn stared at Yasin in disbelief. "I literally just said we weren't going crabbing today. The whole team's already out looking for Zachary and Yalena."
Yasin met her gaze steadily. "I heard you. We should go look for them too."
"Not happening," Quinlyn stated flatly, shaking her head.
His gaze fell to the banana peels in her hand. "I figured you were planning to give them a surprise with these."
Quinlyn hesitated. Truth was, she'd been stockpiling potential weapons purely as a precaution. Her real agenda involved staying cozy indoors, well away from Zachary and this wild goose chase. The last thing she wanted was to follow some predetermined script.
Five minutes later, they were standing in the heavy rain, their jackets barely helping against the storm. The rain was so thick that they could hardly see.
Quinlyn gritted her teeth as rain dripped into her eyes. When she looked up, all she could make out was Yasin's hair plastered wetly against his forehead.
His calloused fingers tightened around hers before she even realized their hands were joined—that rough, familiar grip settling comfortably against her palm. She couldn't recall when she'd reached for him in the first place.
Quinlyn stiffened, attempting to withdraw her hand. "I'm fine on my own," she said, keeping her voice even. "You should watch your step, Yasin."
Yasin nodded but didn't relent. "My legs are shaky," he said, gripping her hand tighter. "Just let me hold onto you."
Words failed Quinlyn, leaving her in stunned silence.
Despite the rain, Yasin's tracking skills hadn't dulled. He led them along a separate path from the others, following crushed leaves, broken branches, and footprints the rain hadn't yet washed away. In less than an hour, they found Zachary and the girl.
The scene hit her with jarring familiarity. Without the other figure present, it would have been an exact replay of her past. Suddenly, a peculiar sadness tightened in her chest.
There it was again—Zachary collapsed, Yalena screaming for help. She moved forward automatically, eyes widening with that same painful hope—maybe this time he'd notice her.
Yasin kept hold of her hand, feeling the slight tremble in her fingers. He couldn't tell whether she was upset or afraid.
"Quinlyn." Yasin pulled three banana peels from his pocket with his free hand. "Look."
The ordinary absurdity of it snapped her back to reality like a bucket of cold water.