Adrian's POV:
Amara remained calm, as if the events she had endured were already behind her. I stayed quiet, letting the days slip by.
Finally, the day came for her discharge from the hospital. Vihaan had been by her side every second while she was here, but at home, that wouldn't be the case. Albert could do anything.
There was no more time to hesitate. I had to tell Vihaan the truth — now.
"Vihaan," I called him.
He looked at me, and I gestured to him to come beside me. He came, and I was about to tell him, but Jia came right in the moment.
"What's up?" she asked in a cheerful voice.
"Were you two busy. I think I interrupted your conversation," she said, smiling.
"No, we were just. Standing." I answered not to create any fuss.
Amara's POV:
I knew why Albert had been so desperate to take me home. I still couldn't walk properly, and the doctors had insisted I stay in a wheelchair. If I protested, I would have to give a reason — and I didn't have one. I couldn't expose him, not now. No matter how badly he had treated me, he was still Jia's father.
When we arrived home, the first thing I saw was the same living room where I had lain lifeless just days ago — the same place where my sweetest dream had turned into a nightmare. Vihaan lingered for a few minutes, then reluctantly left.
After spending some time with Mom and Jia, they escorted me to my room. Loneliness began to creep in as I replayed everything that had happened. The person I had thought was my savior had turned out to be the real hunter. Overwhelmed, I started crying and eventually fell asleep.
The next morning, I woke to find Vihaan sitting quietly beside me.
"Good morning," he said softly, tucking a stray strand of my hair behind my ear.
I sat up slowly as he adjusted a few pillows behind me. He was unusually quiet — that kind of silence that seemed to search for answers.
"You want to say something?" I asked gently.
"As long as you want to share," he replied, looking straight into my eyes.
"I think not right now. I need to figure this out by myself," I said, staring down at my hands.
"Noted," he replied softly, "but just so you know, I'm always here to listen. Just a call away." He gently held my hand.
The stress was overwhelming, and part of me longed to share it with him. But I knew him too well — if he ever found out Albert was behind all of this, there would be no chance of forgiveness.
He led me downstairs, and everyone else was already at the dining table.
"Look who's here! Adrian, you need to take some lessons from Vihaan — just how attentive he is with his girl," Jia teased.
My diet was restricted; I could only have specific juices, light vegetables, and coconut water. After breakfast, everyone started their daily routine. Jia left for the office, Mom took a few days' leave to stay with me, and Vihaan stood up. He glanced at me one last time before leaving, and then the house quieted down.
Mom went to the kitchen, and Albert approached, holding a glass of milk.
"Here, dear, have a sip," he said, extending the glass toward me.
I wanted to refuse — to at least scream — but I couldn't. Unsure of what to do, I took the glass from him.
I was about to drink when someone suddenly took the glass from my hands. I looked up to see who it was.
It was Vihaan.
"Sir, she can't drink milk right now," he said firmly, placing the glass on the table.
"Did you take any sip of it?" he asked me, concern sharp in his eyes.
"No," I answered. He nodded.
"Umm… I forgot my bag in her room," he said, glancing around.
Mom came out and handed him a box of sweets.
"I just made these. Share them with Eric — he's such a baby. And tell him to join us next time," she said, smiling warmly.
"Of course I will. Thank you so much," he replied. He picked up his bag from my room and left, adding a quick, "Take care," before heading out.
After that day, fear found its way into me — not the kind that comes from danger, but the kind that comes from heartbreak. I was scared. Truly scared. Because the person I once believed would protect me, the one I trusted without a second thought, had been the one hurting me all along.
I tried to hold myself together — not because I was strong, but because I finally saw what I meant to the people who refused to give up on me: Mom, Jia… and Vihaan.
It's only been two and a half weeks, but I can see it — the exhaustion under his eyes, the way his face has grown leaner, the way his smile has started to fade at the edges. He hides it well, but I know. I always do.
And maybe that's what love really is — not the perfect moments, not the promises, but this quiet knowing. The understanding that if I truly love him, if I truly care, then I can't let his heart keep breaking alongside mine.
He's hurting too. And for once, it's my turn to protect him.
I don't remember when sleep took over — somewhere between the last few pages of the book and the ache settling behind my eyes. The next thing I knew, Jia was standing beside me, her voice soft but firm.
"Eat something first, then take your pills, okay?" she said gently before leaving the room.
When my vision cleared, I noticed someone at the doorway. Adrian. He was leaning against the frame, silent.
"Why are you standing there?" I asked, half curious, half uneasy.
He didn't answer — just walked in slowly. And that's when I realized something was off. It wasn't him, not the usual Adrian who filled every silence with a smile or some half-joking remark. This version of him was… quiet. Heavy.
My heartbeat stumbled, and a cold shiver ran through me when he reached into his pocket and pulled out a drive.
I didn't even need to ask. Somewhere deep inside, I already knew what it held. And that silent knowing sent every nerve in me trembling.
"Amara," he began, his voice calm but weighted with something deeper, "I know it's your choice… but you shouldn't keep the truth hidden."
He paused, studying my face as if afraid his words might break me.
"I know it's hard — exposing him in front of his own family," he continued softly. "But it's undeniable what he's done. I'm not here to tell you what to do, but as your friend… please, don't bury it. Don't carry it alone."
After a long stretch of silence, the words finally found their way out.
"I can't," I said quietly.
Adrian's brows furrowed, the faintest frown carving across his face.
"Why? That's—Amara, if it's because of Jia, I understand. It'll break her heart, but she deserves the truth."
Each word felt like a blade, slicing through the fragile illusion I'd been holding on to — the world I'd built to keep myself from shattering.
"I can't," I whispered again, the tremor in my voice betraying everything I was trying to hold back. "I can't let that illusion — the one that says I'm not an orphan—fall apart. Not now. Not ever."
I took a breath, but it came out more like a plea than an explanation. "You know what hurts the most? It's not what he did, Adrian. It's who did it. The man everyone respected. The man who made me believe I was loved, cared for, safe." My voice cracked. "How do I destroy that image? How do I stand in front of the world and declare myself an orphan after all these years of being… his daughter?"
Tears burned at the back of my eyes, but I blinked them away. "So no, this isn't for Jia. Or anyone else. It's for me. Because if I say it out loud — if I accept it — then everything I've ever known, every bit of warmth I've held onto, disappears."
I swallowed hard, my words trembling into a whisper. "And I can't do that, Adrian. I just can't."
Tears slipped down my cheeks before I could stop them — silent, relentless. I tried to steady myself, to breathe, to hold it all in, but the sound of approaching footsteps pulled me back to the present.
"Here's your meal for now," Jia said softly as she entered, carrying a small tray. "You'll have to settle for boiled veggies for a while, but I promise—" she smiled, that familiar warmth flickering across her face, "—as soon as you're better, we're going to our favourite restaurant. Your favourite food, my treat."
She set the tray in front of me, her tone light and playful, but her eyes… they told another story. They had seen my tears, even if she chose not to mention them. And in that silence between us — her care, my guilt, the soft clink of the tray against the table — I felt both loved and utterly undeserving of it.
And no matter how much I deny it, the real reason I want to hide Albert's secrets is ...Jia. I know how much she cares about me, how much she loves me, and in any condition, I can never put her in a position where she has to choose between me and her own father. Never.