The air inside the car was heavy with silence.
Not the kind that made you uncomfortable. But the kind that made you think.
That forced you to feel every breath, every second, every ounce of tension and unspoken emotion.
We were parked outside the NBI headquarters again.
This was our third time this week.
Not because they invited us.
Not because they had anything new to say. But because we wouldn't stop.
Because neither Lance nor i could sleep knowing Selena was still missing and the case surrounding Luis was still hanging in limbo, twisted, warped, manipulated.
"I don't care if they're annoyed," Lance muttered beside me, eyes fixed on his phone screen as he scanned through yet another email from Nico. "They owe us answers. Hell, they owe Selena answers."
I didn't say anything right away.
Instead, I leaned back in my seat and closed my eyes, letting the sunlight filter through the windshield and settle on my face.
My heart still ached whenever I remembered the look on Selena's face during our last real conversation, the subtle trembling in her hands, the tiredness in her voice. I accused her. I doubted her. I looked her in the eye and chose fear over trust.
And now she was gone.
"Do you think she's okay?" I asked, finally breaking the silence.
Lance looked up, the edge in his expression softening. "I don't know," he admitted. "But wherever she is… I hope she knows we're still fighting."
I nodded.
"I wasn't kind to her," I whispered. "Even when the world was already cruel. I thought she was using me. That maybe… maybe she wanted to take everything from me. Or worse, protect whoever hurt him."
"She didn't," Lance said gently. "You know that now."
"Now," I echoed, my throat tightening.
He reached over and took my hand. His thumb brushed against my skin in slow, grounding circles.
"We'll find her," he said. "We'll find all of them. Whoever's behind this—whoever framed you, whoever hurt Luis, whoever's trying to make people disappear when they get too close to the truth, we'll find them all."
His conviction wasn't performative.
It wasn't the usual lawyer bravado.
It was personal now.
Not because i was his client.
Not even because Selena had gone missing.
But because Lance didn't like being played. And right now, all the strings were being pulled by someone we still hadn't seen clearly. Someone powerful. Someone calculated.
And for the first time in a long time, I didn't feel like a pawn anymore.
I felt like i had someone fighting beside me.
Back inside the NBI building, things were tense.
The agents had started giving us looks half sympathy, half annoyance. But no one outright asked us to leave. Not yet.
Nico met us near the glass briefing room, tossing a Manila folder onto the table like it weighed a thousand pounds. "Still nothing on Selena's phone. No trace. No pings. It's like it was turned off mid-transit and never opened again."
"What about traffic cameras?" Lance asked.
"We combed through everything. The last clear sighting of her car was two blocks from here. After that, it hits a blind spot. We think she was intercepted. Taken."
"And no ransom?" I asked, heart beating fast.
Nico shook his head. "No demands. No messages. Nothing."
That was the worst part. The silence.
If she was alive, why hadn't anyone claimed responsibility? And if she was…
No. I wouldn't go there.
Lance stood beside me, jaw clenched, arms crossed tightly. "Someone's covering their tracks well. Too well."
Nico exhaled sharply. "We're hitting walls left and right. But i'm not giving up either."
I looked at him. "Why are you still helping us? Technically… I'm not your problem anymore. I'm not a suspect. I'm not even a witness at this point."
"You were framed," Nico said simply. "And you're the only person willing to walk straight back into hell just to see this through. I respect that."
His words hit me harder than i expected.
Because even with public sympathy returning, people saying "She was innocent after all" and "Poor Aurora" I didn't feel vindicated.
Not when Luis still hadn't gotten justice.
Not when Selena was missing.
Not when someone out there was orchestrating all of this like a symphony of chaos.
"I want them to pay," I said quietly.
Lance looked at me then.
Not surprised. Not shocked.
But proud.
Me, the girl who once begged him to make it all go away. Who cried about her reputation. Who cared more about trending headlines than courtroom truths.
I wasn't her anymore.
That night, back in the condo, the silence was different.
Softer. Closer.
Lance was seated on the floor, back leaning against the couch, his laptop perched on his knees as he scanned more CCTV files Nico had forwarded earlier. The glow from the screen cast shadows across his face tired, focused, determined.
I stood there for a moment just watching him.
There was something about Lance when he was serious.
The way his brows drew together.
The way he bit the inside of his cheek when something didn't add up.
The way he whispered thoughts to himself like a man trying to solve a riddle that had haunted him for years.
I stepped closer.
Quietly.
And then knelt behind him and wrapped my arms around his shoulders.
He stiffened for half a second, just half and then relaxed into the warmth.
"I'm sorry," I murmured.
"For what?"
"For all the times i pushed you away. For not seeing you earlier."
He turned his head slightly, just enough to catch my eyes.
"I saw you from the beginning, Aurora," he said softly. "Even when you were hiding."
I leaned in and pressed a kiss to his temple. Then to his cheek.
Then to the corner of his mouth.
Lance turned fully then, laptop forgotten, and cupped my face like i was something breakable.
"You're sure about this?" he whispered.
I nodded. "Yes."
And then he kissed me.
Deep. Slow. Honest.
There was no performance in it. No desperate need to prove something. Just two broken people finding something real in the middle of all the lies.
The world outside our windows was still spinning. Still cruel. Still unfair.
But in that moment, in that bed, with his arms wrapped around me and my fingers tracing the lines of his back, I felt something I hadn't felt in months.
Safe.
Whole.
Home.
The next morning, I woke up before him.
And instead of reaching for my phone or scrolling through online headlines, I just watched him.
His face. The subtle rise and fall of his chest. The faint scratch on his shoulder from my nail.
I wasn't naïve. I knew this moment wouldn't last forever. That eventually we'd have to go back out there, face more questions, more walls, more danger.
But right now… he was here. And i was here.
And we were finally on the same side.
Fighting for truth.
Fighting for each other.
Fighting for everyone who had been silenced.
Luis. Selena. Me.
This wasn't over.
Not even close.