The rain poured relentlessly all night, so fierce that maera could not sleep even for a moment. Not that sleep ever came easily to her in the rain, anyway. The ward's lights were off—lying on her sofa, one arm draped over her head, she stared at the ceiling, lost in deep thought. Then, a sudden gust of wind rushed in, forcing the window open. A chill swept through the room, and she shivered slightly. She sat up, glancing around the ward, where everything lay in undisturbed slumber. A faint smile touched her lips before she rose and moved toward the window. The air was sharp with cold, and she sneezed once, murmuring under her breath, "This icy rain… it's like an invitation for winter to arrive. Hah… though October is already here."
With that, she closed the window quietly and lay back down.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________
When Sam woke at dawn, it struck him that he had slept just like that—without moving all night. The rain had stopped, but the sky still hung heavy with lingering dark clouds. His back ached from the awkward position, and as he rubbed his eyes and tried to sit up, his spine protested sharply. "Ugh… Mom…" slipped out before he caught himself, wincing as he massaged his stiff muscles.
Then he remembered—he had fallen asleep beside Zero.
The moment he looked up, Zero was already watching him, an amused glint in his eyes. Time seemed to freeze. "Zero…" was all Sam could manage, his voice thick with emotion. Seeing Zero conscious sent a rush of relief through him. "You're awake…?" Sam blurted, unable to hide his joy.
Zero smirked. "See for yourself. I'm right here, talking to you, aren't I?"
"You bastard," Sam muttered, the relief quickly giving way to irritation. "You scared the hell out of me. You're a real piece of work, you know that?" He launched into a half-hearted scolding, but Zero just laughed—soft at first, then louder, until Sam, despite his grumbling, found himself laughing too.
"Asshole. If you ever pull a stunt like that again, I'll kill you myself," Sam threatened, though his grin betrayed him. Zero's laughter faded, but the warmth in his eyes remained. He knew—no one had been with Sam as long as he had. No one except Sam's father, anyway. And that foster mother Sam refused to acknowledge.
Zero had already decided: he would never let Same know how he truly felt. Friendship is enough, he told himself. If this is all we ever have, at least we can be happy like this—together.
Lost in thought, Zero didn't notice Sam nudging him until his voice cut through. "Hey, dumbass. What's going on in that head of yours?" Sam stood, stretching. "I'll let the doctors know you're awake."
He turned to leave, then paused, glancing back with a mock-stern glare. "Oh, and one more thing. Congrats on rejoining the land of the living, Mr. Zero the Cheap Hero—but you're still not allowed to get out of bed. So don't even try." With that final warning, Same strode out, leaving Zero to his thoughts.
______________________________________________________________________________________________
Maira was leading Sara to the bathroom when Sam entered the room. Sensing movement behind her, Maira turned and saw him—Sam was so radiant with joy that she could almost see sparks dancing around him.
"Oh, Sam! Wait a minute, I'll be right there," Maira said, smiling.
A short while later, after settling Sara in the bathroom, Maira returned to find Sam still standing there, waiting. The moment their eyes met, he burst out, "You know what, Maira? Zero's awake! I've already told the doctors. That's why I came here—to tell you."
Maira's lips curved into a smile. "That's wonderful, Sam. But… what about Alexa?"
The light in Sam's eyes dimmed. "The doctors said…"
Just then, Sara stepped out of the bathroom—and froze at the mention of Alexa's name. Sam's voice was heavy as he continued, "Alexa… took multiple bullets. The injuries were severe. She's in a deep coma now. There's no guarantee when—or if—she'll wake up."
The words hit Sara like a physical blow. The floor seemed to vanish beneath her feet; her legs refused to move. Alexa's face flashed before her eyes—laughing, alive. "A coma? Bullets? Injuries? What… what is happening?" she whispered, clutching the wall for support. But her knees buckled, and she stumbled against a nearby sofa, collapsing to the ground with a gasp.
"Aah—!"
Sam and Maira whirled around. One look at Sara's tear-streaked face told them everything—she had heard.
"Alexa! What… what's happening?! Why?!" Sara screamed, fists clenching her hair as sobs wracked her body. Maira rushed to hold her while Sam tried to steady her shaking shoulders.
"Sara, get a hold of yourself! We're here—we'll explain everything," Sam said firmly.
But Sara couldn't stop. She wept uncontrollably until, ten minutes later, exhaustion finally quieted her. Maira had recounted the entire story, and now Sara sat slumped on the sofa, Sam and Maira flanking her in silence. Fresh tears spilled down Sara's cheeks.
"All this happened… and none of you told me?! Alexa—!" She hugged herself, voice breaking. "This is all my fault. I'm the reason everyone's suffering. If anyone deserves to be punished… it's me."
"No, Sara," Sam cut in, wiping her tears. "That's not true. None of this is your fault. Alexa's alive. Zero's awake. We'll get through this."
But Sara kept crying, her voice hoarse from grief. At last, when the storm of sobs subsided, she whispered, "Next time… don't hide anything from me. Please."
Sam and Maira exchanged a glance. "Okay," they said in unison.
Just then, a nurse entered with a tray. "Miss Sara, your breakfast." She set it down and left, reminding Sam of his own empty stomach.
"Oh—Maira, I'm going to grab breakfast too. Be back soon," he said, hastily standing. As he hurried out, Maira turned her attention to Sara, gently coaxing her to eat.
______________________________________________________________________________________________
Sim's Morning
When Sim woke up, her gaze immediately fell on the coat she had washed and hung to dry the night before. With a quick shake of her head, she headed to freshen up. Returning to the main room, the house felt unnervingly empty and silent.
It always feels lonely without Maira, she thought.
She was used to preparing breakfast for Maira every morning, enduring her antics, her chatter—but "a lot happened lately." The stress had taken its toll; dark circles shadowed her eyes. She checked the time.
"Still early. I can make it to the hospital by 11."
After a quick breakfast, she stepped out, the quiet of the house lingering behind her.
Sam & Zero's Awkward Breakfast
Sam was feeding Zero breakfast—his injured arm made it impossible for him to eat on his own. The two ate in heavy silence, the room thick with unspoken tension.
Finally, Zero broke it. "Sam?"
"Hmm?" Sam answered distractedly.
"When do our exams start?"
Sam paused, giving Zero a long look. "Did you get brain damage too? Or did you just forget?" His tone was sharp, teasing.
"Ugh, can't you just answer normally?" Zero snapped back.
Sam smirked. "One month and fifteen days, Mister Short-Term Memory Loss."
"WHAT?!" Zero nearly shouted. "How long until I'm discharged?! I haven't studied all semester—I barely scraped through assignments with last-minute AI help! I'm completely cooked!"
His frustrated rant was loud enough that the doctor, who had just entered, overheard everything. The man chuckled.
"Mr. Zeyad, I appreciate your academic concerns, but you'll need to stay another day or two.
Zero flushed in embarrassment. Sam, seeing his face, burst out laughing—soon, even the doctor joined in.
Once the doctor left, Zero grinned mischievously. "It's fun lying in bed while my personal servant waits on me."
Sam, who was fetching water, nearly dropped the glass. "Just wait till you recover," he muttered, though he was smiling.
Zero took the water, thoroughly enjoying how easily he could ruffle Sam's composure.
______________________________________________________________________________________________
Sara had finished breakfast and was sitting idly, boredom creeping in, when she noticed two birds playing outside the window. They darted around each other—one chasing the other, then nipping playfully with their beaks. The tiny creatures' antics made her smile.
"Maira, look," she said softly. "These birds are just like us. Remember how we used to be in college? I'd annoy you endlessly, and you'd always run away."
Maira, who'd been absorbed in her phone, glanced up. The sight of the birds tugged at her lips. "Yeah, we were terrors. Drove the whole college mad." A wistful pause. "Those were the days."
"If I could go back," Sara murmured, "I'd freeze time right there."
Maira turned to her. The air between them thickened.
"I know I'm asking too much," Sara continued, voice fraying. "You've moved on. But… could you spare me just a little more time? I—I can't help it. Maera, tell me… did you ever love me too?"
Maira's breath caught. "Sara, I won't lie. There was a time we loved each other. But I had to move on. Sim was there for me. she carried my burdens. And now… it's been seven years with Sim." She reached for Sara's hand but stopped herself. "I don't want to hurt you further. Please—accept this reality before you drown in it. Maybe part of me still loves you; that's why I'm here. But can't we just… stay friends? I can't ruin another life."
Tears pooled in Sara's eyes. Before she could respond, Sim's voice cut through the room.
"Maira?"
They turned. Sim stood in the doorway, her gaze flickering between them. Sara's chest ached—third wheel again—the thought stung sharper than she'd admit.
"Where were you?" Maera stood abruptly. "You didn't call last night. I was worried."
Sim stiffened. "I… got caught in the rain, came home exhausted, and forgot. Sorry." She omitted the the meetup with Dan. Her eyes darted to Sara, now lying motionless on the bed.
"Let's go outside," Sim whispered. "Sara's resting. We'll disturb her."
As they left, Sara kept her eyes shut. Maera's words were arrows in her heart. A tear escaped.
"You're right," she thought. "The sooner I accept this, the sooner I'll get over you. Maera…"
______________________________________________________________________________________________
Time passed swiftly, and before anyone realized it, two days had slipped away.
It was the 10th of October, and autumn had painted the world in warm hues. Sara stood by the window, lost in thought as she watched golden leaves drift from the trees.
Maera's voice snapped her out of her reverie. "Sara, do you love the hospital so much that you don't want to leave?"
Startled, Sara turned. "Ah, no… I was just thinking." She forced a smile and followed Maera outside.
Since that day, Sara had tried her best to act normal around Maera—though every glance at her sent a pang through her heart. "If only she were mine." But each time that thought surfaced, she crushed it mercilessly. She knew this was the end. Maera had been her one mistake, and now she was paying the price.
Maera and Sim were bound by an unbreakable red thread—one Sara could never sever. She consoled herself with that thought, even as it hollowed her out.
At the Doctor's Office
The four of them sat across from the doctor, who glanced between Sara and Zero before speaking.
"Sara, your condition has improved significantly, but I recommend avoiding stress and anger. You'll also need to take these medications for a week. Understood?"
"Yes, Doctor. Thank you." Sara nodded politely before stepping out.
Next was Zero. Though his injuries were healing, the bandages around his arm and chest remained.
"Mr. Zeyad," the doctor said sternly, "you're recovering well, but don't push yourself. No sudden movements—your wounds are still healing. And take these medications."
"Thank you, Doctor," Sam chimed in before Zero could protest.
______________________________________________________________________________________________
As they stood together, Sara suddenly asked, "What did the doctor say about Alexa?"
Sam groaned. "Sis, you're firing off questions like missiles."
Zero shot him a glare—"NO OVERACTING" clear in his expression—and Sam immediately shut up. Maera and Sara burst into laughter.
"The doctors said there's no change," Maera answered softly. "She's still in a coma. No signs of waking yet."
Sara's smile faded.
"Alright, let's head out," Maera said, breaking the tension. "We'll meet again in the evening."
With quick goodbyes, they parted ways—Maera and Sara heading home, while Sam and Zero walked together.
"Why are you following me like a lost puppy?" Zero grumbled.
"Because if I don't, you'll try to do everything one-handed and end up crippling yourself," Sam shot back. "Imagine me letting my sister marry a guy with no arms. What would people say? 'Look, those are the armless guy's kids!'"
Despite himself, Zero laughed. "Sam… you're something else."
Sam grinned and thought. "At least you're smiling now. You've been gloomy for days."
And with that, they walked on—one teasing, the other pretending to hate it—but both secretly relieved to have each other.
______________________________________________________________________________________________
Maera arrived home to find Sim absent—but a black coat draped over the chair caught her eye. "Since when does Sim own this?"
As she moved toward the balcony, she spotted Sim approaching the house, laughing with a stranger—a young man whose easy familiarity with Sim sent an uneasy ripple through Maera. The moment Sim noticed the unlocked door, her smile faltered.
"Okay, Dan. See you later," Sim said abruptly, waving him off before stepping inside.
Maera stood rigid, an unfamiliar insecurity coiling in her chest.
"Mae! You're back?" Sim called, forcing cheer into her voice.
Maera ignored the greeting. "Whose coat is this? Why haven't you visited the hospital in days? And who the hell was that guy?"
Sim's patience frayed. "Relax. That's Dan—a friend. The coat's his. We ran into each other during the rain, and he lent it to me. He even walked me home."
"Oh? And you chose not to mention any of this?" Maera's voice sharpened. "Did he just drape the coat over you—or blindfold you too? Was he in our house? What else did he do?"
"Stop shouting at me! I didn't do anything wrong!" Sim snapped back.
"Really? Now you're raising your voice—for some friend?" Maera's laugh was brittle. "No, wait. Let me guess—boyfriend?"
"MAERA!"
"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Maera slammed her fist against the door, the wood shuddering under the blow. Her breaths came ragged. "SIM, YOU BROKE YOUR PROMISE. NO—YOU BROKE TWO PROMISES!"
With that, she stormed out, the door crashing shut behind her.
Sim stood frozen, then retaliated in kind. "Fine! Don't listen. Next time, I won't even bother explaining!" She marched to her room, punctuating her fury with another slammed door.
Two doors. Two women. A silence thick with betrayal.
______________________________________________________________________________________________
When Sara stepped into her house, the stale air hit her first—a musty odor clinging to the walls, the scent of a home left abandoned too long. She scanned the living room, and memories of that day came rushing back. Exhaustion weighed on her, but the loneliness cut deeper. The silence here wasn't peaceful; it was suffocating, as if the walls themselves had forgotten how to echo life.
She drew the curtains, cranked the AC to its coldest setting,although the weather is not hot but she likes cold temprature so much, and then grabbed a water bottle, collapsing onto the couch. Too drained to fetch a glass, she drank straight from the bottle, gulping down the chill as her mind replayed the chaos of the past week.
Then, like a trigger, Sam's voice echoed in her head: "There's a mafia boss named Cobra behind all this."
Cobra.
The word lodged in her brain. She finished the bottle in one long swig, then let herself sink into the sofa. For the first time in days, the familiarity of her own couch lulled her into instant sleep.
"Sara!! You have to avenge me—forgive me for dragging you into this!"
Her mother's voice—real, raw, alive—tore through the darkness.
THUD. THUD. THUD.
Three gunshots in rapid succession.
A scream. Her mother's scream.
Sara thrashed in the void, disoriented. Where were these sounds coming from? The blackness around her thickened, and then—
Blood.
A corpse drenched in it. Her mother's lifeless body, staring back at her with hollow eyes.
"MOMMMMM—!" Sara's own scream ripped her awake.
Aftermath
The AC hummed at 16°C, yet Sara's skin was slick with sweat. Her chest heaved as she gasped for air, the phantom metallic tang of blood still on her tongue. The headache came next—a jackhammer behind her temples, her ears ringing like alarm bells.
She stumbled to the fridge, grabbed another water bottle, and drained half of it in one go.
Two years.
Two years since that night, two years ago....
To be contineud....