Filed to story: The Daughter in the Shadows (Yunice) Book by Una Norris
Wyatt came down the stairs and said to Yunice, “Come to the office with me.”
“I’m not going,” Yunice replied. “I’m making medicine today.”
Wyatt followed her into the kitchen. “What kind of medicine?”
“Whisperblend. But I’m still missing one ingredient-rhino horn. It’s rare on the market.”
Wyatt paused.
Yunice was sorting herbs into a bamboo tray. When he didn’t respond for several seconds, she looked up and added, “I’ll ask Mr. Carl later. Maybe he has some in storage.”
Wyatt leaned against the island counter in front of her. “Who’s it for? Is it important?”
Yunice gave a light smile. “Yeah. It is.”
“Don’t take other people’s problems too seriously,” Wyatt said. “Don’t go bleeding yourself dry for someone else.”
Yunice didn’t reply. “If you don’t leave now, you’ll hit rush hour and need a helicopter.”
Wyatt let out a hum. “I’m still digging into Oscar’s case. Don’t stress.”
Seeing Yunice was busy grinding herbs, Wyatt walked to the foyer, grabbed his coat and keys, and left.
Only after his tall frame disappeared through the door did Yunice look up.
He’d lied.
He had rhino horn-but didn’t mention it. That meant he didn’t want her to know what it was for.
Whatever. He had enough secrets already. One more wouldn’t change anything.
Yunice called Quinton to apologize. She hadn’t found any rhino horn, so she needed him to keep searching.
“If it really doesn’t work out,” Quinton said, “just use water buffalo horn instead.”
It would be far less effective-but there was no other option.
Yunice felt bad. Maybe if she’d just asked Wyatt directly, there was still a chance.
But she couldn’t bring herself to throw away her pride like that. Not when she knew he’d say no.
She couldn’t stomach the humiliation of rejection.
But she also couldn’t help feeling like she was letting Bobby down.
Quinton hadn’t hung up yet. “By the way, that guy I know inside passed along a message. Oscar’s doing okay-hasn’t been beaten or anything. But he’s not in great shape mentally. Keeps saying he’s innocent. That he was framed.”
If he was yelling about being framed, but not naming anyone, that meant he didn’t know who had set him up.
That made things harder.
Yunice thanked Quinton for the help.
“We’re friends,” he said. “Don’t make it sound so formal.”
That only made Yunice feel guiltier. She hadn’t done nearly as much for him in return.
After the call, she decided to contact Victor.
Victor worked with Mr. Carl in the medicinal trade. Maybe he had a lead.
“Price isn’t an issue,” Yunice told him.
Victor laughed. “You do realize this stuff isn’t about money, right?”
He paused. “Alright, it’s not about the price. I’ll ask around for you.”
By noon, Elianna finally dragged herself downstairs, stretching dramatically.
Yunice was at the kitchen island, one hand steadying a stone mortar while the other ground herbs. Her tablet was propped up next to her, streaming a university lecture.
Elianna strolled past her with a casual air. Neither of them acknowledged the other-they treated each other like they didn’t exist.
Elianna grabbed a bottle of milk from the fridge and drank straight from it, glancing sideways at Yunice.
Seeing Yunice wasn’t starting anything, she relaxed. As long as the house was warm and she had a place to sleep, she didn’t care.
A little later, she came back downstairs with a photo frame in her arms, sat on the couch and started wiping it carefully.
Yunice glanced over. It looked like a memorial photo-probably Elianna’s dad.
Still, they didn’t interact. Everything was quiet.
When Wyatt came home that night, both women seamlessly resumed their performance and acted civilized.
Wyatt called Yunice to the bedroom. “The police finished the evidence chain. Your brother’s fingerprints are the only ones on the knife. Elsie confirmed the assault. There’s tearing-but no trace of bodily fluids.”
Which meant there was no DNA evidence from the suspect.
That was both good and bad news. Without DNA, the case lacked a complete chain of proof and no conclusive guilt could be established.
But without another suspect, Oscar was still the prime one. He’d been found at the scene, and the knife only had his prints.
Yunice said, “Fingerprints can be planted. If someone used rubber gloves to cut Elsie’s wrist and my brother just happened to pick up the knife, it would explain everything.”
Wyatt replied, “They checked the angle of the cuts. They were made by someone else.”
Which ruled out the possibility of Elsie staging the whole thing.
The clues led nowhere. The hotel surveillance had been tampered with-the data was removed, and not even recovery was possible.
Yunice asked again, “Has Elsie woken up?”
“She’s still unconscious. There’s a chance she won’t wake up again.”
Elsie had always used her body as a bargaining chip for sympathy, time and time again. That kind of self-sacrifice took its toll. This time, her brush with death brought her even closer to the end.
Yunice had imagined plenty of ways to defeat Elsie, but she never thought it would happen this abruptly.
It felt like a story cutting off before the ending.
If Elsie really didn’t make it, then their only witness would be gone-and Oscar’s chances of clearing his name would be even slimmer.
In the middle of the night, Wyatt’s phone began to buzz insistently.
The sound woke Yunice. She opened her eyes and saw him answering the call.
A tense voice came through the line. Wyatt’s expression turned grim as he looked at her.
Yunice instinctively sat up. The way he looked at her gave her a bad feeling.
“Elsie’s in critical condition,” Wyatt said.