Part 129
The sirens blurred into a single long, aching note.
Blue and red lights flashed through the cracked blinds, washing her face in colors that didn't belong to her quiet world. Hands pressed her down, firm and practiced, the cold bite of metal closing around her wrists.
She didn't resist.
She just kept staring at the open doorway, at the space where Adrian had been standing only moments ago — eyes wide, breathing sharp, real sunlight spilling around him.
He was gone now.
They had taken him.
And she was alone again.
Her knees hit the ground as the officers read her rights, their voices a distant hum she barely registered. Words like kidnapping, unlawful confinement, mental evaluation flickered through the noise.
But she wasn't listening.
She was replaying his face.
The way he'd looked back at her — not with hate, not even fear.
Just… sadness.
That cut deeper than any of the cuffs, deeper than the shouts around her.
When they pulled her outside, the cold air hit her skin like water. Cameras flashed from somewhere beyond the barricades — distant, hungry eyes of the same world she'd tried to save him from. Reporters shouting questions, microphones reaching forward like weapons.
"Is it true you were his assistant?"
"Why did you take him?"
"Do you regret it?"
Regret.
The word echoed.
Aura blinked, her voice raw when she finally spoke — not to them, but to herself.
"I kept him safe," she murmured. "He was happy. He smiled."
They put her in the back of the police car. The door shut. The outside world muffled into silence again — just like before, only now the cage was hers.
Through the glass, she could still see the faint outline of the house.
Her house.
Their house.
And though she knew it was over, a small, stubborn thought kept whispering at the back of her mind:
"They'll never love him the way I did."