POV: Semiel
The first light filtered through the slats of the blinds, gray and pale, as if the day itself was hesitant to arrive. Saval still stood by the window, arms crossed. He hadn't slept a wink all night.
I approached cautiously. —It's time,— I whispered.
He turned slightly, his eyes red. —Yeah. Let's go to the station as soon as it opens.—
I nodded, though the idea of moving after so many hours on edge felt heavy. The silence in the apartment felt strange, as if it held the echoes of every noise from the early morning.
We made coffee without speaking. Every sound—the coffee maker, the water, the cups—seemed amplified. Saval stopped halfway across the kitchen and looked at me.
—Semiel, no matter what happens, don't leave my side today.—
—I won't,— I replied. It wasn't an empty promise; it was the only way I could breathe.
Before leaving, we sent messages to Mia and David. They replied almost immediately, meeting us at the café near the university. Saval tucked the documents he'd gathered into a black folder.
Outside, the cold dawn air hit us like a reminder that the world kept turning, oblivious to our vigil. We walked without hurry but with a firm purpose. Each step echoed hollowly on the nearly deserted sidewalk.
When we reached the police station, the line for routine matters greeted us with a disconcerting normality. Saval spoke to the officer on duty, handing over the evidence we had: screenshots of messages, voice notes, the record of Mia's call.
I watched his hands. They didn't tremble.
The officer reviewed everything carefully and asked us to stay for a statement. The questions were direct: names, dates, any detail that could help identify Santiago.
As we left, the sun was already peeking out from behind the buildings. I stopped at the door, feeling a different weight. It wasn't complete relief, but it was a step.
—This isn't over yet,— Saval murmured, tucking the folder away.— But today, we struck the first blow.—
I looked at him, fatigue marking every line of his face, and knew he was right. Maybe Santiago was still hiding, maybe Xavier was still playing his games, but we were no longer just pieces on the board.
We walked toward the café where Mia and David were waiting. The day, at last, had begun.