The interrogation room was bathed in harsh white light, draining all color from the man's face.
Handcuffed, he still smiled.
"So, you want to know why?"
He gave a low, bitter laugh.
"That woman, Palin—she only ever cared about results, about being right. She rejected my proposal, humiliated me in front of the review board, destroyed my reputation. Why shouldn't I hate her?"
The detective's voice was cold. "So you tried to kill her? That's your justification?"
The man's eyes turned sharp, filled with venom.
"Not just her. Manida too."
He sneered.
"She got that funding not because she's better, but because she's connected—because she can talk. I wanted them both on their knees before me!"
Meanwhile, at the hospital—
The monitors beeped frantically.
Palin coughed up more blood, her body trembling like torn paper.
Manida gripped her hand tightly, tears streaming uncontrollably.
"Lin, please… stop fighting like this. I'll find the truth, I swear, but you— you have to live!"
Palin's eyes fluttered open, unfocused yet clear with emotion.
She smiled faintly.
"Mani… remember how I used to say you were too rational, too unromantic?"
Her trembling fingers brushed Manida's tears.
"But when you cry… it's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."
Her hand slipped away, her breathing ragged.
Late that night, Manida sat outside the ward, her head in her hands.
She was split in two—half a professor who needed to pursue the truth, half a lover who could only sit helplessly by.
"What am I supposed to do…" she whispered, tears falling onto her fogged glasses.
Outside, the wind howled.
And somewhere within that sound, it seemed to whisper—
At the end of this darkness, there might be no dawn.