Chapter 2 What a Coincidence

"What?" Evelyn was confused. Just then, her mind was suddenly filled with a flood of memories. Her grandfather was a war veteran. He and her grandmother had been deeply in love their whole lives. As they grew older, their bond only seemed to grow stronger. In her free time, Evelyn loved scrolling through short videos, especially ones showing tough, stoic soldiers. She often sighed, realizing that no wonder she could never find a man to her liking in real life. The kind of man she admired was dedicated to the country. Marrying a soldier would be great. Soldiers were carefully selected by the government, which meant they had a solid background, a strong physique, and a secure job for life. Before Evelyn could get too lost in her daydreams, Susan's sharp voice cut through her thoughts. "Remember my words. Your grandma loved him her whole life, but she also waited for him her whole life, enduring it all! Do you think it's easy for a woman to raise nine children on her own in the countryside?" At that instant, Evelyn felt like cold water had been poured over her head. She hadn't thought about it that way. Evelyn bit her lip. Before she could process Susan's words, she suddenly felt a small green bag strap around her neck. It looked small, but it was oddly heavy, like it had a brick inside. Susan looked around, then stood on tiptoe to whisper in Evelyn's ear, "Don't lose what's inside this bag. It's something your grandpa valued above all else. "If you get into any trouble in Kingsbridge, take this to the Air Force Base Housing and look for the Blackwell family. Gabriel Blackwell was your grandpa's comrade. They were brothers-in-arms. If he's still alive—" Before she could finish, another woman barged through the crowd and made her way over. The woman wore a rose-red wool coat. Her chapped lips were painted with lipstick, and she was wearing thick makeup. Her dry hair was styled in loose curls. She stood out in the crowd. This woman was Jessie Wilkinson, the "Ms. Wilkinson" Susan had mentioned. Jessie grabbed Evelyn's wrist firmly and said impatiently, "Susan, is Evelyn coming or not? The train isn't going to wait!" Susan quickly forced a fawning smile and leaned in, saying, "Yes, yes, she's coming now!" As she spoke, she discreetly slipped a thick envelope into Jessie's coat pocket. "Here's the 200 dollars we agreed on. It's all my savings. Please look after Evelyn." Jessie glanced at the red envelope, a gleam of shrewdness flashing in her eyes. The corner of her mouth lifted into a smug smile, but her tone softened noticeably. "Don't worry. Evelyn is clearly a talent. As long as she follows orders, she's in for a good life." For some reason, Evelyn shivered slightly at her words. There was a nagging feeling that something wasn't quite right. Before she could think further, Jessie had dragged her onto the train. Evelyn found her seat beside the window in the middle of the carriage. Jessie sat diagonally across from her, so there was one empty seat beside each of them. Jessie's seat was by the aisle. She glanced around anxiously, clearly waiting for someone. Soon, the diesel train slowly started moving. Looking outside the window, Evelyn noticed Susan hadn't left the platform yet. As the train began to pull away, Susan walked alongside it. She pounded on the glass window with red eyes while shouting, "Evelyn! If you don't make something of yourself, don't bother coming back!" Their eyes met. Evelyn saw the sorrow, worry, and determination to let go in Susan's gaze. At that moment, Evelyn's eyes welled up. Almost instinctively, she responded, "Don't worry, Mom." As the train started to move, the empty platform was left with only a cool, handsome man. He stood with his arms crossed while lazily leaning against one side of a pillar. A cigarette dangled between his fingers as he squinted, watching the mother and daughter saying their reluctant goodbyes in the distance. He was tall—well over six feet—and dressed in a military uniform, with a pair of high military boots on his feet. His strong, long legs were casually crossed. Aside from his sharp eyes, his face was hard to make out clearly. Though he had the swaggering look of a rogue, there was an undeniable sense of tension about him, like a leopard napping on the grasslands, ready to spring into action at any moment. "I'm just having a smoke. Who's it bothering?" The man smiled defiantly and shook his head. He then finished the entire cigarette in one drag before crushing the cigarette butt with his bare hands. Upon seeing him from afar, the station staff instinctively avoided him and quietly made their way around. As the train picked up speed, the man tossed the cigarette butt into a nearby trash can without even looking up. He then took a few quick steps and leaped onto the last carriage of the train. "Where the hell have you been, Damian? We've been looking everywhere for you!" another man in a military uniform exclaimed. His eyes lit up when he saw Damian Blackwell return. There was an empty seat next to the man. Damian returned to his seat and said in a calm tone, "I got off the train to smoke. What's up? Something wrong?" The man teased, "I thought you ran off to skip out on the blind date." Damian raised an eyebrow but didn't respond. A minute ago, he had seriously considered ditching the whole thing, but something had changed his mind. "Damian, look. Over there, 11 o'clock, in the middle of the carriage," the man leaned in and whispered excitedly. Damian's sharp brows raised. What was this about? He glanced at his childhood friend and comrade-in-arms, who was giving him a knowing look, and immediately felt intrigued. Damian casually scanned the newly boarded passengers in the carriage. When his gaze landed on the slender figure sitting by the window in the middle of the carriage, his eyes suddenly froze. What a coincidence.