AURORA'S POV:
The condo was too quiet.
Not the peaceful kind.
Not the kind that lulled you into rest.
No. It was the sort of quiet that made your ears ring, like they were waiting for something to pierce it, news, a scream, maybe even the sound of your own heart breaking all over again.
I sat on the couch, unmoving.
My hands were wrapped around a mug of untouched tea, its warmth long gone.
The TV was on, muted.
The headline flashed across the bottom in bold red letters:
"Actress Selena Cruz reported missing. Last seen on her way to NBI headquarters."
I had read those words maybe ten times. Maybe a hundred. Maybe i memorized every pixel of that broadcast already.
Maybe i was hoping it would change if i just stared long enough.
But it didn't.
Selena was gone.
And I…
I didn't even know how to feel.
I should be relieved, right? My name was cleared. Officially. No more headlines with my face beside a body. No more hashtags about me being a murderer. No more flashing cameras outside my lawyer's office. I should feel free.
But i didn't.
What i felt was guilt.
The kind that crawled under your skin and made a home there.
The kind that twisted your stomach until every bite of food felt like a sin.
I had doubted her. I really thought Selena had something to do with it.
Even when she looked me in the eye and told me she didn't, I held that doubt.
I clung to it because it was easier to believe that the people who hurt us were the ones close to us, not the ones hiding in the shadows.
And now?
Now she was missing.
And i couldn't shake the thought that maybe, just maybe… my silence helped bury her.
The door opened behind me.
I didn't turn my head.
I didn't have to.
The scent of coffee and something sharper, paper, ink, maybe the faintest trace of his cologne, hit me first.
Then the soft click of leather shoes against the floor.
"Hey," Lance said, his voice low, like he was afraid to break whatever spell had taken over the room.
I didn't answer.
My fingers tightened around the mug.
He came around the couch slowly, gently. Like approaching a wounded animal.
"She's still not found," I said finally. My voice cracked. "I saw it on the news."
Lance sighed and sat beside me. Not too close. Not yet. "We've been tracing her route from last night. CCTV from nearby traffic cams cuts off just before she should've arrived at NBI. Like she vanished into thin air."
"And there's nothing?"
"Nothing useful. Whoever took her or wherever she went, it's like they knew where the blind spots were. Either that, or they created them."
My throat tightened.
"She didn't deserve this," I whispered. "Even if she kept secrets, even if she was cryptic… she didn't deserve to just disappear."
"No, she didn't."
Silence stretched between us again.
But this time, it wasn't cold. It wasn't empty.
It felt like waiting.
Like… something was about to give.
I turned to him slowly.
He was staring at his laptop, eyes darting back and forth as he scrolled through images, timelines, footage i couldn't make sense of.
His brows were furrowed, jaw clenched.
He hadn't stopped working since the day my name was cleared.
Even when i told him he didn't have to keep going, he just said, "I'm not doing this because i have to."
I didn't ask what he meant.
I didn't have to.
And maybe… that was the first moment i admitted to myself that something had shifted between us.
He wasn't just my lawyer anymore.
He wasn't just the one who pulled me out of the pit when everyone else was ready to throw dirt over me.
He was…
Lance.
Mine.
If i wanted him to be.
I stood, quietly placing the mug down. My knees trembled a little when i took the first step, but i didn't stop.
I moved behind the couch where he sat, leaned forward, and wrapped my arms around his shoulders from behind.
His entire body stilled.
"I know i said thank you before," I murmured, my chin gently resting against his shoulder, "but it never felt like enough."
"Aurora—"
"No. Let me finish."
He didn't speak.
I felt his breath slow beneath my arms.
"I thought i was going to lose everything. My name. My future. The only life I've ever known. And you… you didn't give up on me. Even when I gave up on myself."
He slowly turned his head, just enough to glance at me.
"I wanted to believe i was still strong," I whispered, "but you were the one who gave me that strength."
And i meant it.
I stepped around the couch until i was standing in front of him.
My hands found the sides of his face before i even realized what i was doing.
His skin was warm.
His eyes never left mine.
Then he whispered, "I couldn't stop, Aurora. Not when i knew someone was doing this to you. Not when I knew the truth was still out there."
I leaned in.
He met me halfway.
The kiss wasn't rushed.
It wasn't desperate.
It was slow, grounding, like we both needed to know that this was real, that this wasn't some fragile thing built out of survival and trauma.
His hands came up to hold my waist gently, then tighter.
My fingers moved into his hair, pulling him closer.
He stood, our bodies pressed together, lips never parting.
We moved toward the bedroom like we'd done this before.
Like this was always supposed to happen. Like we were always going to end up here.
Clothes fell away with quiet urgency.
There was nothing performative about it.
No practiced moves, no desperate fumbling.
Just skin against skin, breath against breath, the sharp inhale when his mouth found my collarbone.
The soft exhale when my hands slid along his back.
When we finally reached the bed, he hovered above me, eyes searching mine for something.
Permission?
Hope?
Something more?
I gave it all.
"Yes," I breathed.
And then there were no more words.
Only feeling.
Only the unspoken truth we'd carried through courtroom silence and media noise. Through secrets and blood and doubt. Through late-night conversations and guarded glances.
I wanted him.
And i was done pretending i didn't.
The morning after was soft.
Golden light spilled through the curtains like it had been waiting just for us.
I woke first. His arm was draped over my waist, his chest warm against my back. I turned slowly to face him.
His eyes were still closed, but his face was relaxed in a way i'd never seen before.
Like for once, even just for a few hours, he'd let himself rest.
I reached up and gently brushed a strand of hair from his forehead.
His eyes fluttered open.
We stared at each other for a long moment. Then, he spoke.
"You okay?"
"I am," I said quietly. "But i won't be if we stop looking."
He nodded.
"I'm not done, Lance," I added. "They framed me. They buried Luis. Now Selena's missing. And we're just supposed to move on?"
He sat up beside me, the sheet pooling around his waist.
"I never planned to stop," he said.
"I want to help."
"You are helping."
"I mean—" I hesitated. "I want to be there. Actively. Whatever you're looking at, I want to see it. Whatever files you're combing through, let me help. I want to bring them down, Lance. I want justice."
He reached for my hand.
"Then we do it together."
Later that morning, I stood in front of the mirror, brushing my hair back, a quiet resolve settling into my bones.
My name was clear.
But the war wasn't over.
There was someone out there who wanted us silenced. One by one.
They buried Luis.
They tried to bury me.
Now Selena was gone.
And i'd spent enough time running from shadows.
It was time to start chasing them.