Keifer's POV
We were still standing there.
None of us had really moved since Jay was taken upstairs. The air felt thick, like everyone was thinking the same thing but no one wanted to be the first to say it out loud.
Angelo broke the silence.
"So," he said slowly, arms crossed, eyes sharp, "they really closed the case?"
Aries nodded once. Percy followed, quieter than usual.
"Yes. They signed the papers. No conditions."
I frowned. "Maybe… maybe they finally realized what they did."
Angelo looked at me then. Not angry. Just certain.
"That's not possible."
I blinked. "Why?"
He let out a humorless breath. "Because they're selfish. People like them don't wake up one day with guilt. They gain something from this—money, safety, power. Something."
Aries stepped forward, voice firm. "After all these years, Keifer. They never stepped back. Not even once. Not with money. Not with power. Not even when threats were involved."
He shook his head. "So why now?"
No one answered immediately.
Percy opened his mouth, probably to lighten the mood—"Maybe they found religion or—"
Angelo shot him a glare sharp enough to cut glass.
Percy immediately raised his hands. "Okay. Bad timing."
Silence returned, heavier.
I ran a hand through my hair. "Isn't it weird?" I said slowly. "First Edrix's mom suddenly comes back. Then Drew's loan gets cleared. And now this."
Percy straightened. The joking tone vanished completely.
"Could it be," he said carefully, "that all of this is being done by the same person?"
My gaze went straight to Angelo.
He was already thinking the same thing. I could see it in his eyes—the way his jaw tightened, the way his fingers flexed slightly.
For a moment, a name hovered between us.
Hapipi Enterprises.
But none of us said it.
Saying it out loud felt like opening a door we weren't ready to walk through yet.
Angelo finally spoke, voice calm but commanding.
"Enough for tonight."
He turned to me. "Keifer, you go home. Safely."
Then to Aries and Percy. "You two stay. Take care of Jay."
His gaze hardened. "All of you—keep your eyes on her. Every moment."
I nodded. "Always."
As I turned to leave, one thought refused to leave my mind.
This wasn't coincidence.
I came home late.
The house felt different when I stepped inside. Not empty. Just… calmer.
The maids greeted me softly and returned to their work. I headed toward the living room—and stopped.
Keigan was there.
Sitting on the floor.
Laughing.
Actually laughing.
Kerien sat beside him, dramatically pretending to lose a board game while Keigan teased him without mercy.
"You cheated," Keigan accused.
Kerien gasped. "Excuse me? I would never."
Keigan rolled his eyes. "Liar."
I stood there for a moment, unnoticed, just watching.
After everything… after so much darkness—this felt unreal.
Keigan looked up and spotted me.
"Kuya!"
He got up and came straight to me, hugging my waist without hesitation.
That simple gesture cracked something inside me.
I rested my hand on his head. "Looks like you're in a good mood."
He nodded. "I am."
No forced smile. No hesitation.
Just truth.
Kerien grinned from behind him. "He's been like this all day."
I exhaled slowly.
Day by day.
Bit by bit.
He was coming back.
Jay POV
I peeked out of my room like a professional spy.
And by professional, I mean half my body outside, half still hiding like a scared lizard.
That's when I saw Keifer coming out of Kuya Angelo's room.
My brain instantly went:
GO. ASK. NOW.
My feet took exactly one step forward—
—and then Kuya Angelo stepped out right behind him.
Abort mission.
ABORT MISSION.
I reversed faster than my Wi-Fi when guests come over and slammed myself back into my room, pretending I was deeply invested in… staring at the wall.
My heart was doing Olympic-level gymnastics.
A few seconds later, the bathroom door opened.
Elara stepped out, fresh, calm, composed—like someone who hadn't just witnessed emotional nuclear explosions in this house.
Perfect.
Now is my chance.
I grabbed my towel and rushed into the bathroom.
Brushed. Washed. Splashed water dramatically like I was in a toothpaste ad.
Practiced one concerned face, one innocent face, and one "I-know-nothing" face in the mirror.
When I came out—
I froze.
My room looked…
clean.
Not my version of clean (which is just moving chaos from bed to chair).
No.
This was actual clean.
My books were stacked.
My bed was made.
Even my random hair ties were aligned like they were attending morning assembly.
And then I saw her.
Elara.
Standing near my desk.
Arranging my things.
MY DESK.
I stared at her like she had just committed a crime.
"…"
My brain screamed:
WHO GAVE YOU PERMISSION TO TOUCH MY NATURAL HABITAT?
I cleared my throat dramatically.
"Ahem."
She looked at me, completely unfazed.
"I couldn't find space to put the notebook. Your desk was… buried."
Buried???
Excuse me???
"That," I said, pointing accusingly, "was not buried. That was an organized mess. Every item had emotional attachment."
She raised a brow.
"Your broken pen?"
"He's been with me through exams," I defended weakly.
She placed the pen neatly in the holder.
"He's resting now."
I walked closer, eyes scanning the desk.
"Did you… just clean my room?"
She nodded once.
"Temporarily."
"Temporarily??"
"Yes. It'll return to its natural state by tomorrow."
I gasped.
"So you know me."
She smirked—just a little.
I sat on my bed, staring at the clean desk like it might bite me.
"I don't know how to feel. Part of me is grateful. Another part of me feels violated."
She shrugged.
"Growth is uncomfortable."
"Ma'am, this is trauma."
She finally laughed.
A real one. Soft, brief.
I watched her, thinking—
Great. She survived my house, my brothers, my breakdown… and now she's surviving my room.
Honestly?
That deserved respect.
I jumped onto my bed like a starfish who had given up on life.
Face first.
Soul exhausted.
Brain officially on airplane mode.
I rolled to the side, patted the empty space dramatically, and pointed at it.
"Half space for you," I announced like a generous landlord. "Rules are simple. No talking. No thinking. Just sleep and pretend Monday doesn't exist."
Elara didn't move.
She stood there.
Silently.
Menacingly.
I cracked one eye open.
"…Why are you standing like a villain in the last scene of a movie?"
She straightened, crossed her arms, and said calmly,
"I want to make this night unforgettable for you."
I SAT UP SO FAST I NEARLY PULLED A MUSCLE.
"WHAT?"
My blanket flew halfway off me. "Unforgettable how? Why are you saying it like that? Are you about to traumatize me again? Because I'm not mentally prepared—"
She sighed.
A tired, disappointed sigh. The kind teachers give right before ruining your life.
"Relax. Not like that."
"Oh thank God," I breathed. Then immediately frowned. "Wait. Then like what?"
She tilted her head slightly.
"Today is Saturday."
"I know."
"Tomorrow is Sunday."
"I know," I nodded. "A holy day. A rest day. A lie we tell ourselves."
She looked at me.
"Then comes Monday."
"I KNOW—" I stopped. "…Oh."
She raised one brow.
"Exam," she said.
The word hit me like a slap.
"No," I whispered. "No, no, no. We don't say that word at night. It attracts evil spirits."
She turned around, picked up my books from the desk, and walked toward the chair.
"Let's review."
I screamed internally.
"ELARA," I protested, scooting backward on the bed, "it's night. My brain shuts down after 9 PM. Even my thoughts yawn."
She placed the books on the table. Calm. Focused. Heartless.
"You were fine reviewing earlier."
"That was survival mode," I argued. "This is sleep mode."
She pulled the chair back and looked at me.
"Sit."
I didn't move.
She didn't raise her voice.
Didn't threaten.
Didn't shout.
She just looked at me.
Five seconds passed.
Ten.
My soul left my body, came back, packed my bag, and accepted defeat.
"…You're scary," I muttered, dragging myself off the bed.
I sat on the chair dramatically, slumping like a criminal being interrogated.
She opened the book.
"Chapter one."
I groaned. "Do you enjoy this? Is this your hobby? Torturing innocent people at night?"
She didn't even look up.
"I enjoy results."
I rested my head on the table.
"Can I at least die a little?"
"No."
"Cry?"
"After."
I sighed, opened my book, and glared at the pages.
I invited her for dinner, my brain complained.
Why is she still here? Why is she like this? Why is she saving my academic life against my will?
Elara tapped the page lightly.
"Focus."
I looked up at her.
She wasn't smiling.
Wasn't joking.
She was serious. Steady. Protective in her own terrifying way.
…Okay.
Maybe just a little review.
But still.
I swear, if I pass this exam, I'm blaming her.