Chapter 4 - chapter 3

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Most of the students had been watching the two with amused grins. Liya and Jaden were always like that—bickering like a cat and a mouse. Their playful drama had practically become the school's favorite lunchtime entertainment.

Judie, curious and mildly suspicious, decided to trail after them. Jaden had taken Liya to his classroom and, to everyone's surprise, sat her down in his chair and pulled out a comb from his bag.

"A comb?" Judie whispered, eyebrows raised.

The girls in the class giggled. It was a sleek, pink comb—the kind clearly not meant for a guy like Jaden.

Judie nearly laughed out loud but bit her lip. "Why in the world do you have a lady's comb in your bag?"

Jaden gave her a cool glance and said with a shrug, "To help clean up certain people's bird nests."

The class burst into laughter, not catching that he meant Liya's hair. Liya, however, did—and narrowed her eyes at him with a huff.

Without a care for the watching crowd, Jaden carefully combed her hair, running the comb through each tangled strand with focused precision. He didn't say much, but there was a strange tenderness in the way he handled her hair, smoothing it down until it gleamed.

When he was done, he gave her a pat on the head—then promptly shoved her out of his classroom with zero ceremony.

"Out. Before your messy aura ruins my reputation."

Liya rolled her eyes dramatically and stalked away, dragging Judie along with her.

Back in their classroom, Miss Betty, the stern but sharp-eyed history teacher, was already deep into a lecture on ancient civilizations.

"So, class, what marked the fall of the Mesopotamian empire?" she asked as she paced in front of the board.

Liya had just opened her notebook, determined—for once—to pay attention, when the door slammed open.

Everyone turned in shock.

Jaden stood there, his face unusually pale, a haunted look in his eyes.

He had been in the hallway, his phone buzzing in his pocket. He ignored it at first—probably another group message. But when he finally glanced at the screen, he froze.

The words that followed—were chilling.

The blood drained from his face. With grim focus, he turned and headed for her classroom, his mind already miles .

When he arrived he didn't ask for permission and went to drag Liya out of the class.

"Excuse me, Mr. Stone, care to explain yourself?", but he ignored her completely.

Instead, he walked straight to Liya's desk, grabbed her bag in one hand and her wrist in the other.

"Jaden, what—" Liya began, startled.

"Come," he said, his voice low, tight.

"Wait, what's wrong?" she asked, alarm rising as she stumbled after him.

He didn't answer. He didn't even slow down.

Miss Betty called after him, but Jaden didn't turn back. The hallway blurred as Liya was pulled down the corridors, her heart beginning to pound.

It wasn't until they burst through the doors of the city hospital that Liya realized something was very, very wrong.

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Mr. and Mrs. Stone had been in a severe car accident. The doctors had done everything they could, but the outcome was devastating.

Mrs. Stone had slipped into a vegetative state, unresponsive and unlikely to recover. As for Mr. Stone...

"I'm very sorry," the doctor said quietly, his tone grave. "The injuries he sustained were too severe—multiple organ failure, internal bleeding, and head trauma. We tried to resuscitate him, but... he didn't make it."

The words hit Liya like a thunderclap. For a moment, she just stood there—frozen. Her breath caught in her throat, her fingers trembled, and then, without warning, her legs gave out. She collapsed onto the cold, sterile floor of the hospital hallway, her eyes wide with disbelief.

Her face turned deathly pale. The sharp sting of disinfectant filled her nose. The fluorescent lights above flickered slightly, casting cold, sterile light across the tiled floor. Everything felt distant, like she was moving underwater—muted voices, blurred motion, the soft beep of monitors echoing somewhere far away.

Her palms went clammy. A suffocating silence echoed in her mind, followed by an overwhelming tightness in her chest.

"No..." she muttered, barely audible. "No, that's... that's impossible."

She let out a shaky laugh—a laugh that sounded more like a cry—as if by rejecting the truth, she could undo it.

"This can't be happening," she whispered, then louder, "It can't. It just can't."

Tears streamed down her cheeks, hot and uncontrollable, as the full weight of the loss crashed into her like a tidal wave. This wasn't just a tragedy—it was a return to a nightmare she had barely survived the first time. And now, it was happening all over again.

Jaden, who had been standing by the doorway, stunned and silent, took a hesitant step toward her.

"Liya—" he began, reaching out.

"Don't touch me!" she snapped, her voice sharp, raw, and trembling.

He froze, his hand mid-air. Her glare was piercing, filled with pain, betrayal, and a heartbreak he couldn't fix.

The nurses and doctors nearby stopped what they were doing, their eyes softening with sympathy for the two teenagers—the girl crumbling under the weight of grief, and the boy who didn't know how to reach her.

Jaden clenched his fists at his sides, guilt hitting him like a blow to the chest. He had dragged her out of class without explanation, driven by panic. He hadn't even prepared her. He hadn't thought—hadn't remembered.

Liya had lost her parents once before.

He should have known this would shatter her.

As Liya sat there on the cold hospital floor, crying uncontrollably, Jaden's heart shattered.

He couldn't take it anymore.

He didn't like seeing her like this—so broken, so lost. Once again, he stepped toward her. She tried to push him away, struggling weakly against his presence, but this time, he didn't let go.

He pulled her into his arms—firmly, desperately.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, again and again, the words trembling against her ear. "I'm sorry, Liya. I'm so, so sorry…"

She fought him at first, her fists weakly pounding against his chest. But his grip only tightened, grounding her as her world crumbled. Eventually, her strength gave out. Her hands fell, her body trembled, and her sobs deepened as she collapsed against him, burying her face in his chest.

Tears spilled from both of them, silent and unstoppable.

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Ten days later.

After the funeral, the world hadn't paused for them. Life went on, but Jaden and Liya hadn't returned to school. Not even once.

The loss of their father still hung heavy in the air. But more than that, there was the storm that followed.

Jaden, now the official heir to Stone Accessories Enterprise, was thrust into a corporate battlefield overnight. He hadn't just buried a parent—he'd inherited a legacy, one under siege from the very people who should have stood beside him.

His uncles—Lewis and Michael—were vultures circling a corpse, doing everything they could to seize control of the company his father had built from nothing. Heartless and cunning, they showed no respect for grief, only ambition.

And through it all, the only person who remained by his side was Liya.

She didn't leave him, even for a moment. When he met with board members, she waited outside. When he faced betrayal behind closed doors, she was the one who placed a cup of tea in his hand afterward, saying nothing but letting her presence comfort him.

They had no one else.

No family to turn to. No shoulders to lean on but each other's.

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