There was a soft and nice-looking sofa in the corner of the room.
Right beside it, a small puppy was sitting quietly. Its tail was moving slowly.
On the sofa, a young man was sitting. He wore simple glasses and had a kind smile on his face.
He was waiting calmly for Evelyn. She was drinking a glass of water before starting to ask her questions.
"I'm sorry I took some time," Evelyn said, putting the glass back on the table. "I have a small sugar problem, so I need to take my medicine every day. I can't miss it, you know?"
"It's okay, Miss Monroe. You can take your time," the young man replied in a soft voice.
"Thank you, Satyendr," she said. "But I'm still not clear about your friend. Really? You never felt anything strange about him?"
Satyendr smiled, leaned back a little, and said,
"Mark… he had a very kind heart. He always helped people who were around him.
But… the way he helped people was very different sometimes."
He looked up, like he was thinking about old times.
"Sometimes, he helped someone who didn't even ask…
But didn't help someone who was clearly in need.
Like once, he helped a man who looked smart and healthy…
But didn't help a poor man with one leg.
Another time, he gave food to a drunk old man… but walked past a crying woman.
It was strange. His way of helping was hard to understand."
Evelyn moved a bit closer, now really curious.
"So… when did you last meet him? Like after college? Any last message?"
Satyendr sat up straight and thought hard.
"If you mean a goodbye note or letter, then no — I don't remember anything like that.
But something weird happened the last time I met him."
Evelyn stopped writing. Her pen slipped from her hand.
Now, her full attention was on what Satyendr was saying.
"It was our college convocation day.
Everyone in our group was so happy. We were laughing, taking pictures, and dancing."
He smiled again. His face looked bright with old memories.
"Me and Mark were happy too. We even drank two or three glasses of strong wine.
It was fun for both of us — well, at least for him.
I was feeling dizzy and weak, almost falling down.
But Mark… he was still full of energy.
Even after seeing me like that, he didn't stop.
He drank three more glasses!"
Satyendr laughed a little — a laugh full of warm memories.
It was clear how much he enjoyed those old days.
And how much he missed Mark.
"Then suddenly… we heard a loud voice. It was a girl shouting at someone. She was so angry, like something really bad had just happened to her.
Even though I was a little dizzy, I could clearly hear her voice… loud and painful. Mark and I ran toward the crowd. And then we saw her...
It was Swetlana — the girl from our group. She was crying and yelling at three men who were standing near her with bottles in their hands, clearly drunk.
I felt a chill. Because what I thought was shouting… was actually her crying. She looked scared and broken.
Satyendr's face turned serious as he said this. His voice became low.
"Those guys were fully drunk… and they started teasing her while she was just trying to get a drink at the bar. She told them to stop. But one of them reached out and pulled her skirt from the bottom. It tore…"
He paused.
"That moment… it broke her. She started crying. But those men… they didn't stop. They laughed. They made fun of her again.
People surrounded the scene. Some were laughing, some were just standing there… watching. Like statues. No one helped.
Even I… I was just standing there… helpless.
And then… one of those monsters… he said something disgusting to her. He asked her to come to the bathroom with him, saying he would 'fix it' there."
Satyendr looked down, his voice heavy.
"The worst part? Her own friends didn't even come to help her. They just stood there too.
That day… I realised something. The group we called our 'friends'... was just a group of people. Not real friends. Not a real bond. No one was there for her… not even when she needed help the most."
Evelyn looked at Satyendr and asked softly, "What about Mark? Didn't he help her?"
Satyendr's serious face slowly changed into a little smile.
"I told you before… I never really understood him. Even on that day… I asked him to help her. But guess what he did?"
He paused, then said,
"He took my glass of wine… poured it into his own glass… and started drinking it.
I wasn't shocked because he took my drink… I was shocked because he was one of us — part of our group — and I never expected this from him."
Satyendr looked down, remembering that moment clearly.
"He started walking away from the crowd. I followed him, shouting, asking why he didn't help her.
I kept yelling — at least he could have tried to save her.
But then he turned back, looked straight at me, and said something that I'll never forget.
He said, 'She should take care of herself. What do you expect? That all of us are going to run and help her? She's weak. And in this world… no one helps the weak.'"
Satyendr paused again. His voice became a little shaky.
"I froze. I was stunned. He wasn't helping her… instead, he was giving her a lesson?
I was angry. I wanted to stop him. But then… he suddenly stopped on his own. He turned to me and said something else…
He said, 'Swetlana is expecting her friends will come and help her… but I need to tell her something — that's not going to happen.'
And then… he walked straight toward the crowd. Swetlana was still standing there crying… and those horrible guys were still teasing her.
He walked up to her and said this:
'Listen, girl. I don't know what you're expecting… but those guys — they're expecting something too.
And right now… you're doing exactly what they want.
If you let their expectations win… keep crying. Stay broken.
But if you want your own hopes to win… if you want to protect yourself…
Then you need to take the first step.
This bloody world isn't going to save you. No one's coming.
Only you… can save yourself.
Now decide… will you cry…
Or will you fight for what you expect?'"
When Evelyn heard those words… something inside her shifted.
She could feel a strange energy in the room — like those words weren't just words, but power. A fire.
Mark's presence… even in just that memory… was so strong, so clear…
She could feel goosebumps.
As if those lines had filled her with strength —
Strength she could carry with her… anywhere.
And those words once again echoed in her ears...
As Evelyn watched Jacob, crying while holding Noelle in his arms.
"I can't let this happen," she whispered to herself, and moved straight towards Ethan.
She told him to attack Jacob while he was not fully aware of what's happening.
But when Ethan didn't act, Evelyn closed her eyes and gathered all the strength she had — the strength that came from Mark's words — and made up her mind to handle it herself.
And just when she was about to take her first step forward,
He took the rod from Evelyn's hand.
She looked at him. Ethan stood still for a second, then slowly walked in front of the other men — like he was ready to face Jacob himself.
Evelyn was expecting that someone — Ethan or the other men — would attack Jacob during this moment. But when that expectation started to fade, she remembered what Mark said...
And that's when she decided to take charge.
And just like that — her expectations started becoming real.
Ethan suddenly held her back, gently pulling her.
He took the rod and stood in front of the group like a shield.
The other men were already looking angry.
It seemed like they had made up their minds to follow him.
Then, Ethan turned toward Jacob —
Who had his head resting on Noelle's chest.
The silence around them felt too heavy... too dangerous.
Ethan walked slowly toward Jacob.
Step by step.
And when he got close enough…
He hit Jacob at the back of his head with the rod.
Crack!
Everyone froze.
The rod bent from its edge.
Jacob, whose head was down a moment ago…
Slowly started to rise.
He looked at Ethan — and his eyes were burning red.
It was like blood was flowing through them.
"ATTACK, GUYS…!" Ethan shouted.
And just like that — the men, already closing in, rushed toward Jacob to catch him.
"Catch him from behind!" a few of the men shouted to the others.
Some rushed to grab Jacob's arms, others went for his legs. But before anyone could tighten their grip—
Jacob, still locking eyes with Ethan, moved his hand like a snake — twisting and slipping out of their hold with ease.
The others tried to grab him again, but Jacob suddenly pushed his whole body forward.
The force knocked everyone off balance, and they crashed onto the bus floor.
Not wasting even a second, Ethan raised the rod to hit Jacob again…
But Jacob was way too fast.
In a blink, he stood up, dodged Ethan's swing — and the next moment, slammed his fist hard into Ethan's face.
Ethan fell to the ground.
He didn't feel the pain… but everything around him began to blur.
His vision was slipping away.
Jacob jumped on him — and without stopping, started punching.
One punch.
Second.
Third.
Seventh…
Tenth.
Blood was pouring from Ethan's face.
Everyone could see it.
It looked like he might die right there…
A young guy, who took charge to protect everyone…
Was now lying on the floor — broken, helpless… maybe dying.
Then suddenly —
BANG!
A gunshot.
Loud and sharp.
Everyone froze.
Even the bus driver — who had been speeding — got distracted and panicked for a second.