The silence in the hospital room was no longer peaceful. It throbbed.
Every inhale Lena took felt heavy, as if the air itself didn't want to enter her lungs. Moody stayed close, one hand still wrapped around hers long after her father drifted into an uneasy sleep. His breathing was soft, shallow—each moment a reminder that time was slipping away.
Sela and Bena stepped out quietly to gather themselves, leaving only the three of them in the dim room.
But even with fewer people, Lena felt crowded.
Crowded by truths she wasn't ready for. Crowded by fear that clung to her skin. Crowded by the name Rafferty—an invisible blade pointed right at her.
She sat there, fingers trembling, eyes fixed on her father's weak form.
Moody watched her.
Not with pity. Not with confusion.
Just with a steadiness that felt like an anchor.
"You don't have to be strong right now," he whispered.
Lena tightened her hand around his.
"I don't feel strong at all."
"You don't have to."
Her chest shuddered. And for a moment, she allowed herself to lean into him—not to cry, but simply to breathe.
To remember she was still here.
Still alive.
Still Lena.
---
The Hallway of Whispers
When she finally stepped out of the room, Moody followed her. The hallway was dimly lit, night staff moving like shadows. The air smelled faintly of disinfectant and rain from outside.
She stopped near the end of the corridor.
"I feel like…" she began, staring at her hands, "…like I've been living someone else's life. Like I was walking around wearing a name that wasn't mine."
Moody stepped beside her.
"Your name is yours," he said. "Nothing changes that."
"But everything else feels changed."
"That's because it has," he admitted softly. "But you haven't."
Her gaze slowly lifted to him.
"How do you know that?"
He met her eyes without looking away.
"Because the Lena I know runs toward people, not away. Because you cry for others before crying for yourself. Because you would've fought for your family even without knowing this truth."
His voice softened.
"And because you're right here, trying to understand instead of breaking."
Lena breathed out, shoulders slumping.
"I don't feel brave."
"You are," Moody whispered. "Even when you don't see it."
She didn't answer. She couldn't trust her voice not to crack.
But for the first time since the truth was revealed, the fear inside her loosened just a little.
---
The Door That Should Have Stayed Closed
When they returned to the room, Sela was wiping her eyes silently. Bena sat beside their father, holding his hand gently.
"Dad woke up for a moment," Bena said quietly. "He asked for you."
Lena rushed forward.
Mr. Luke opened his eyes halfway, exhaustion etched deep into his face.
"Lee…"
She knelt beside him instantly.
His voice was barely a breath.
"There's something else… you must know."
Lena froze.
Her heart sank.
She wasn't ready. But she didn't have a choice.
"What is it?" she whispered.
"A name," he murmured. "The one your mother… feared more than Rafferty."
Moody's body stiffened behind her.
Mr. Luke's hand trembled as he lifted it weakly toward her cheek.
"His name is—"
But the monitors suddenly beeped sharply.
A nurse rushed inside.
"Please step back!"
"Dad—Dad!" Lena cried, gripping his hand tighter.
The nurse gently moved her aside as two more staff hurried in.
"His pulse is dropping—"
"Check his oxygen—"
"Prepare an injection—"
Lena's breath caught. Her world shrank again.
Moody caught her as her knees buckled.
"No—Dad! Please—Dad!"
Mr. Luke forced his eyes open one last time.
Not all the way. Just enough to see her.
Enough to speak one final fragment.
"Lee… don't… trust…"
A long pause. His lips barely moved.
"—the man with the silver mark."
Her breath froze. Moody's grip tightened.
Then—
The line on the monitor went steady.
Flat.
A piercing sound filled the room.
Lena's scream tore through the silence.
---
Meanwhile — Mr. Brine's Night of Reckoning
Across the city, far from the hospital's trembling walls, Mr. Brine's night had only begun to unravel.
His phone buzzed for the fifth time, but he ignored it.
He was pacing across the polished marble floor of his high-rise office—glassy windows overlooking the sleeping city like a cold predator.
He slammed his hand on the desk, breath shaking.
"They promised she'd be safe," he muttered. "They promised none of this would reach her."
Another buzz. This time, he answered it.
A male voice spoke calmly on the line.
"Mr. Brine. You're losing composure."
"Don't play games with me," he hissed. "You told me Rafferty wouldn't find out she exists!"
"And yet," the voice replied, "he has. As we all expected."
Mr. Brine's chest tightened.
Because he knew this voice. This man.
The one who'd warned him years ago. The one he trusted more than anyone else in matters like this.
The one who hid behind shadows and secrets.
"It wasn't supposed to reach her," Mr. Brine whispered, pacing harder. "She's just a girl. She doesn't deserve this."
"She isn't just a girl," the man replied. "And you know it."
Mr. Brine froze.
He gripped the phone so tightly his knuckles went white.
"Don't say that," he growled. "Don't ever say that."
Silence hummed on the other end.
Then—
"Keep watching her," the man said. "Keep your distance, but do not leave her unprotected. Rafferty moves faster when he smells fear."
Mr. Brine swallowed.
"And… the father? Is he alive?"
A painful beat.
"No."
Mr. Brine closed his eyes.
"…Then it has begun."
A cold wind rattled the office windows. The city light flickered.
And the man on the line ended the call with a single, ominous warning:
"Remember the deal, Brine. If the silver mark appears… she is no longer just Lena."
The call disconnected.
Mr. Brine's phone slipped from his hand and clattered on the desk.
His eyes darkened with dread.
"Lena… forgive me," he whispered.
Because whatever was coming—
He feared he wouldn't be able to stop it.
---
Back at the Hospital — The Weight of Goodbye
Lena's cries were raw. Broken. Unfiltered.
She clung to her father's hand even as the nurses tried to guide her back.
"Lee… you have to let them work," Moody whispered, though his voice trembled too.
"No—no! He said there was more—he wasn't done—Dad!"
Moody wrapped his arms around her from behind, pulling her gently away as she screamed, kicking weakly.
Her tears soaked his shirt.
"He can't leave… he can't leave me like this—Moody—Moody I'm not ready—"
He held her tighter.
"I know… I know, Lee… I know…"
Bena sank to his knees. Sela collapsed into a chair, sobbing uncontrollably.
The hospital lights flickered dimly overhead.
Lena's father—the last shield she didn't know she needed—was gone.
And somewhere in the city…
Someone else had begun to move.
Toward her.
Toward the name she carried.
Toward the blood she didn't understand.
And toward the destiny she could no longer escape.