Chapter ONE HINDRED AND THIRTY-SEVEN

Hardin'S POV Dark room. A very darkroom and the only source of light is are the faint rays of moonlight peeping thought the window that is slightly ajar. The wind is blowing hard and I can feel it in my bones that something is not right. The curtains keep swaying left and right and it's a fascinating sight cuz it looks like a perfect dance choreography for the whistling wind. The atmosphere is cold and as time goes on, the breeze becomes stronger and the slightly open widow opens up completely. The dance of the white curtains becomes more violent and I can't help but wonder what is going on. The room looks very old and I can very well recognize it. It is my father's old study at his chambers which was locked the moment he passed away. Why am I here? I haven't been here for about ten years now. Why and how did I even get here? Suddenly, I feel like I'm no longer alone in the room and when I turn around, I take a step backwards when I see my father seated on his office chair, with his u