28. Hawke in the photograph and...

Hawk remained silent once more, listening to the dial tone on the other end of the line.

The next moment, his mind began to race.

He wasn't worried about Gwen going to his apartment; rather, he was quickly searching his memory for anything inappropriate for a minor or anything he wouldn't want her to see.

Inappropriate for a minor? No. Forget adult films; he didn't even have a single poster, let alone magazines. If you asked why, it was because he was broke. He couldn't even afford a phone plan, let alone expensive, energy-consuming magazines. In past years, when he was full of vitality, he usually chose to go to the rooftop and punch the air until he was exhausted enough to sleep.

As for things he wouldn't want Gwen to see?

That didn't seem to exist either. The five Chitauri alien weapons were wrapped tightly in bedsheets and stuffed under his bed in the bedroom. Gwen shouldn't be able to find them.

So... fine. Let her go. Important matters took precedence.

With that thought, Hawk refocused. He tucked his phone away, and the gentleness he had shown while speaking to Gwen vanished from his eyes, replaced by an intensely cold gaze.

The man he had pinned down, his mouth covered, looked on in sheer terror. Hawk savored the fear in the man's eyes, a faint, handsome curve appearing at the corner of his mouth.

"Now..."

"It’s my turn to rob you."

***

After hanging up, Gwen tucked her phone into her pocket and headed straight for the fire escape attached to the exterior wall of Hawk's new apartment building, making her way to the top floor with ease.

She pushed aside the garment hanging in front of the half-open window—which, upon closer inspection, looked like a pair of casual trousers modified into shorts—and climbed through into Hawk’s apartment.

A quick glance around revealed a small living room. A second-hand sofa and a folding table holding a laptop took up two-thirds of the space. However, it was clean. Not exactly spotless, but certainly orderly. Gwen’s first impression of the living room was that it felt comfortable. She had never been to Hawk's previous apartment, and this was her first time seeing this one.

However... as she took the envelope Dr. Connors had asked her to deliver to Hawk out of her pocket and placed it on the folding table, her gaze was drawn to the closed laptop resting there.

It wasn't that she was surprised Hawk owned a computer.

It was... the stickers on the laptop's shell.

"This is..."

"A bit too cute, isn't it?"

Gwen couldn't help but chuckle as she looked at the girly stickers on the laptop cover, wondering which girl had sold it to him. She never once considered that Hawk might have put them there himself, nor did she think any girl had gifted him the laptop.

Impossible. Absolutely impossible. Because no one knew Hawk better than she did. She didn't doubt for a second that if she had kept talking to him after handing him the phone, he would have insisted on giving it back. So, to be safe, Gwen hadn't met with him for over ten days.

Thinking this to herself, Gwen withdrew her gaze, glanced at the envelope left on the table, and turned to leave.

Just as she turned, her open windbreaker caught a gust of wind, blowing the envelope off the table. It took flight, drifting lazily into the bedroom adjacent to the living room.

Gwen walked over instinctively, bent down to pick up the envelope that had nearly slid under the bed, and as she stood up, a faint, ghostly green glow from beneath the bed caught her peripheral vision.

She froze.

Her eyes darted toward the underside of the bed. A tightly wrapped bundle of bedsheets immediately came into view. But these sheets clearly weren't high quality; at the very least, they weren't light-proof. The ghostly green light was pulsing rhythmically, like a heartbeat, shining through the fabric. The light was dim—even in the daylight, she certainly wouldn't have noticed it if she hadn't happened to catch it in her periphery.

What was this?

Gwen crouched down to peer under the bed, her delicate eyebrows arching in surprise. As she went to grab the envelope she had dropped, her gaze shifted upward, landing on a slightly shattered picture frame resting by the nightstand.

A photo was tucked inside the broken frame. The background was Times Square, and the subjects were a young man and woman, both looking about fourteen, wearing somewhat faded, worn-out clothes.

She recognized the boy. It was Hawk. He was smiling brightly in the photo—a smile Gwen had never seen him wear in all her memories of him.

But the girl?

Gwen frowned, set the envelope aside, and picked up the photo from the nightstand to inspect it. This photo must have been taken when Hawk was fourteen, shortly after he started school. She confirmed the timeline in her mind because she recognized the trousers Hawk was wearing in the picture. They were the very same ones she had just been teasing him about—the ones he had worn for three years, outgrown, yet refused to throw away, opting to modify them into shorts instead.

Yes. They were the very same shorts hanging by the window.

But who was this girl?

Gwen studied the girl in the photo, whose skin looked somewhat pale but who was also smiling happily, her arms wrapped tightly around Hawk’s.

A sister? But she had never heard Hawk mention one. Gwen noted the resemblance between Hawk and the girl in the photo, feeling a stir of curiosity.

However... she thought about it carefully and realized Hawk had never brought it up.

Had she passed away? Gwen considered the most likely reason why Hawk would never mention her. After a moment, she placed the frame back on the nightstand, stood up, and headed toward the door.

Just as she reached the living room, it suddenly dawned on her. She slapped her forehead and turned back. She had forgotten to take the envelope with her.

"Huh?"

"Where's the envelope?"

Back in the bedroom, Gwen stared at the floor, puzzled by the envelope's disappearance. Thinking she knew what happened, she crouched down again.

Sure enough, the envelope had slid under the bed, likely nudged by the breeze she created when she stood up earlier. Gwen reached her arm under the bed, feeling around for it.

Soon, her fingertips brushed the envelope.

At the same time... her fingers also brushed against the tightly wrapped bundle of bedsheets.

The moment her skin made contact with the sheets, a distinct sensation of touching cold metal traveled from her fingertips to her brain.