The rhythmic, sterile hum of the hospital corridor was interrupted by the heavy, rhythmic thud of footsteps.
As they were talking, Sam returned, his presence filling the small room.
He was carrying three stacked lunch boxes, the smell of warm, home-cooked rice and savory chicken leaking through it as masking the biting scent of antiseptic.
He entered and paused in the doorway, his eyes darting between Ashley and Kyra.
He looked at them with a careful, assessing gaze, as if trying to read the air for any lingering tension before setting the boxes down on a nearby table with a soft clack.
"How are you feeling now?" Sam asked, his voice dropping into a gentle register.
He walked toward the bed, looking directly at Kyra.
Her face was still pale and translucent in the harsh fluorescent light, but she looked significantly better than when she had first been brought in.
"I'm okay... um... thank you for coming," Kyra said softly. She reached up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear, her fingers trembling slightly.
Despite the exhaustion weighing down her limbs, she managed to give Sam a small, soft smile—one that quietly reach her eyes.
"Hey... why are you thanking me? I'm your friend—and technically your brother-in-law," Sam said with a mock-offended huff. He waved his hand dismissively to brush away her gratitude before turning to look at Ashley.
His expression softened instantly, his gaze turning doting as he watched her.
Ashley, caught in his stare, felt a heat creep up her neck.
She blushed furiously, her cheeks turning a deep crimson that rivaled the hospital's red emergency signs.
"Stop looking at me like that," she muttered, glaring at him, though there was no real heat in her anger.
Kyra watched the silent exchange between them and felt a flicker of genuine amusement.
A small, dry chuckle escaped her throat, the first bit of warmth she had felt all day.
"Well, eat your lunch now so we can talk. Otherwise, it will go cold, and cold hospital food is a crime against humanity," Sam said, flashing a sheepish smile at Ashley's persistent glare.
He turned to serve the lunch to both Ashley and Kyra.
"Yes." Kyra nodded, while Ashley took her seat beside the table.
They ate in a silence as Ashley said some jokes while trying to ease her mood but looking at hesitant eyes.
Kyra could feel the questions hovering in them.
She knew they were holding back, waiting for her to be the one to break the seal.
She knew what they wanted to ask—about the medicine, about the collapse, about the shadows that seemed to follow her everywhere.
But she wasn't ready. She was terrified that if she opened the door to her past, they would look at her differently.
She didn't want to see pity in Ashley's eyes, and she certainly didn't want to see the disgust she felt for herself reflected in Sam's.
"I... It's..." Kyra opened her mouth, thinking she could lie, but her throat felt as though a bone were stuck in it.
Ashley moved to ask something, but Sam held her back.
"Kyra, look," he said.
"We know you don't want to reveal everything, but at least tell us what happened to you today, and why you had that type of medicine..."Sam didn't finish his sentence, but Kyra knew what he wanted to ask.
She remembered Lucifer's eyes—how they had held that terrifying paranoia—and then she thought of their first real meeting, where his eyes held only affection and light.
Her heart ached, even though she knew it was wrong to feel that way.
Finally, just as they thought Kyra wouldn't say anything, she spoke.
Her voice was hoarse, barely more than a whisper.
"It's my boyfr... no, Lucifer. You both should know him; he graduated last year," Kyra replied.
Her voice was slightly hoarse as she thought of their warm memories, knowing now that it was all just an illusion, just like the ones Mille had weaved for her.
A dream of sweetness.
"LUCIFER... the one called the 'Basketball King' in our school?" Ashley asked, her eyes widening. She couldn't believe that someone as gentle-looking as Lucifer could be a beast.
"So, that time in the park... that was Lucifer? Our senior?" Ashley tried to remember the face of the man in the park whom she had slapped.
"Yes... it's him. You might have heard the rumors about him chasing me last year. People didn't know that I refused him at first, but after an incident where he helped me... and then, a few weeks later when he proposed... I accepted him," Kyra said, her voice growing lower and lower with every word.
"But why? I never would have thought Lucifer was your boyfriend... shit... that's why they say 'the most innocent faces hide the true devil,'" Ashley said.
She felt a wave of disbelief, followed by a surge of hot anger. "Why didn't you tell us earlier? I would have taught him a lesson. How dare he—"
Before Ashley could finish, she felt Sam squeezing her hand.
She turned to him as if asking, What?
Sam gestured for her to look at Kyra, whose eyes were already lost in another world, a firm reminder to stay calm for Kyra.
He turned his attention back to Kyra, his brow furrowed in thought.
"Kyra, if he chased you for months back then and the whole school saw how much he was in love with you... how can he do something like this?"
As Kyra listened, she thought of his unnatural calm during the call last night, his sweet talk, and his "forgiveness."
She finally felt what had been missing.
"I think it's because of the argument in the park," Kyra explained, her eyes fixed on her hands.
"I told him I needed a break, that I wouldn't talk to him for a while. He didn't get angry—at least, not at first. He cried. He sounded so broken that I felt like the monster. He begged to meet one last time, to say goodbye properly... and I was foolish enough to go."
She fell silent, her eyes closing as she tried to block out the memory of that meeting.
'No... Kyra, you are done crying for him. He isn't worth the air you breathe.' She repeated the words over and over in her mind, a mantra to keep the darkness at bay.
"Well, don't worry. I have already decided to break up with him," she said, putting on a bright smile.
Ashley looked at that smile and felt a cold pit in her stomach.
She recognized it now. It was the same smile Kyra wore when she was working at the cafe, the same smile she wore when her parents came to visit. It was a shield.
Ashley thought about the medical reports—the signs of chronic stress, the mental health red flags.
She realized that Kyra wasn't just dealing with a bad breakup; she was dealing with a lifetime of hidden trauma.
Without a word, Ashley stood up and pulled Kyra into a tight, desperate hug.
"It's okay, Kyra. You don't have to pretend with us," Ashley whispered, her voice cracking.
"You don't have to be the 'strong one.' Just be you. If you're hurting, let us see it. We aren't going anywhere."
Sam stood up too, leaning over to pat Kyra's shoulder with a steady hand.
"We're your friends, Kyra. We have our own secrets, our own shadows. We won't judge you for yours. Whenever you're ready to let it out, we'll be here to catch you."
The warmth of their support was almost overwhelming.
For the first time in what felt like years, Kyra felt the icy shell around her heart begin to crack.
A few tears escaped her eyes, but they weren't the bitter tears of fear she was used to. They were warm, born from the relief of being seen.
"Okay... thank you. But I'm not that fragile," Kyra said after a moment, gently pulling back and wiping her face.
She tried to steady her breathing.
"Ash, could you do me a favor and find the doctor? I want to know when I can get out of here. This room is starting to feel a bit too small."
"Of course. I'll go find them right now," Ashley said, her voice still a little thick with emotion.
She turned and hurried out of the room, her eyes wet as she tried to maintain her own composure for Kyra's sake.
Kyra watched her leave and felt a small, sad smile touch her lips.
"She's always so worried about me," she murmured.
"That's because you're worth worrying about," Sam said, cutting a slice of an apple and handing it to her.
He watched her carefully, wanting to keep the mood light but knowing that the weight hadn't fully lifted.
"Have you thought anymore about the competition in the Capital? Mrs. Morgan seemed really excited about your potential."
"I haven't thought about it much," Kyra replied, taking a small bite of the apple. The crunch was the only sound in the quiet room.
"I'll see. There's still a lot of time—eight or nine months. She said this was just the first stop of the tour."
As she chewed, her gaze drifted to the window.
In the past, the idea of leaving this city would have terrified her. She was used to her cage; she knew the boundaries of it.
But with Lucifer gone—the man who had been her last reason to stay—the idea of the Capital felt like a glimmer of hope. It was a chance to start over, to leave the shadows of this place behind.
If only I could truly be free of Mille... she thought.
"Kyra? You're drifting again," Sam said, his voice pulling her back. He was waving his hand, his expression filled with a growing concern.
"Huh... sorry," Kyra said, but her heart had already started to race.
The very thought of freedom had triggered something deep inside her, something primal and terrified.
"Kyra? Kyra..." Sam's voice sounded far away, as if he were calling to her from the other side of a long tunnel.
He waved his hand in front of her, but she didn't blink.
Inside her, the stillness was broken by a cold shiver.
'How can it be...' a voice whispered. It was a soft, trembling sound, like a child hiding in a dark closet.
'Kyra, don't be rebellious... have you forgotten? Have you forgotten the weight of her hand? The way the pain felt when you tried to run before, hmm?'
Kyra felt her breath hitch. Her fingers trembled against the apple.
'Even if the pain comes, she will break free from her shackles,' a second voice sliced through the fear.
This one didn't whisper; it rang out like a bell, cold and sharp, yet carrying a spark of protective warmth.
'You are not a slave to them. Kyra, listen to me: do not be afraid. You can endure it. Only cowards choose the safety of their chains over the sting of freedom.'
'No... you can't...' the fearful whisper sobbed.
'She will,' the cold voice commanded.
The argument began to swell, turning the quiet room into a storm.
Kyra felt a dull thrumming behind her eyes that quickly sharpened into a rhythmic, agonizing buzz.
The world of the hospital—the smell of antiseptic, the warmth of the lunch, Sam's worried face—began to dissolve into a kaleidoscope of memories she had tried so hard to bury.
Suddenly, she wasn't in the hospital anymore. She was spinning through different lives.
She saw herself in a room filled with sunlight and lace, her own reflection smiling back with a warmth she didn't recognize.
Then, the scene shifted to a cold, high-rise office; she was sitting in a leather chair, her eyes like flint, ruthless and powerful.
The images turned darker, more jagged. She felt the ghost-burn of Mille's cigarettes against her skin in that suffocating booth; she heard the whistle of Andrew's belt before it struck.
Then came her parents—their faces weren't filled with love, but with a calculated, hidden disgust that made her feel like a stain they were trying to wash away.
Silhouettes of people she should have known stood in the corners of her mind, reaching for her with hands made of shadow.
The pressure built until her head felt like it would shatter.
The apple fell from her limp hand, thudding onto the floor, forgotten.
Kyra clutched her hair, her fingers digging into her scalp as the buzzing became a roar.
She couldn't hold the agony inside anymore.
A raw, broken scream tore from her lungs, echoing against the sterile walls.
Sam immediately noticed. He hurried toward her, panic rising. "Kyra... are you okay?? Kyra!"
Instead of relaxing, her face turned deathly pale and her body began to tremble. She screamed one last time and fainted."Kyra! Kyra!"
Ashley shouted as she ran back into the room, seeing Kyra fall unconscious just as she entered.
"Doctor! Nurse!" Sam shouted. He pressed the emergency alarm button and watched the heart rate monitor, which was fluctuating wildly.
The ward suddenly dissolved into chaos—a far cry from the warmth that had filled the room just moments ago.
Ashley truly felt how quickly a single minute could change everything as she watched the doctors surround Kyra's bed.