When I went back to read the diary again, I discovered that the warning Dad had written to me in blood was the final entry.

After that, there wasn’t a single word more. It was as if my real Dad vanished the moment he finished writing that sentence.

Gradually, my fear turned into numbness. I began to grow bolder.

I stopped hoping that Mom would return and uncover the truth, so I started searching online for legends about Pinehill.

Pinehill was a harsh and mysterious place, filled with strange phenomena that even some scientists had confirmed. In this merciless desert, countless explorers and scientists had lost their lives, yet it still attracted many who were determined to uncover its secrets.

I went through a lot of information, but most of it was similar, repeating those eerie legends. Nothing stood out as particularly useful.

Just as I was about to close the webpage, a message suddenly popped up at the top of my screen.

I clicked on it and saw that the person sending me a message was named “Mysterious Pinehill.”

The message shocked me to the core.

[Did your dead father come home?]

I was stunned for a moment and that person immediately sent me another message.

[I know your dead father came home. If you want to know why, come find me tomorrow!]

Then he sent me a location.

I checked it and it was the address of a small museum.

I saved the location, still hesitating whether I should go.

Just then, I heard a cheer from the living room.

It was Dad’s voice, excited and loud.

"Evelyn, come downstairs quickly, Mom is back!"

I rushed down without stopping and sure enough, Mom had returned.

But her expression was strange and her smile seemed very forced. Her appearance bore the marks of hardship. She was much tanner, her skin dry and shriveled, like she had come back from a drought-stricken land.

Even with makeup, she couldn’t hide the abnormality.

If even I could notice it, Dad definitely could too.

But he didn’t seem to care at all. Instead, he was overjoyed, warmly welcoming Mom and saying he’d cook us a nice dinner so we could reunite as a family.

While Dad was in the kitchen, Mom quietly slipped into my room. She handed me a small packet of ash-gray powder and told me to mix it into Dad’s food or drink later to make sure he ingested it.

I was confused and didn’t know what that powder actually was.