Silence weighed heavier than words.
It felt as though time had stopped in Victor's living room. There was no ticking clock, not even the distant sound of a passing car. Only the rhythm of my heart pounding against my ears—each beat tightening my chest a little more.
"Don't answer this now," Victor said at last.
"Think about it until tomorrow evening."
His tone was gentle, but the weight of his offer still lingered in the room. I had no idea what I was supposed to do. Yet one thing was painfully clear: the only way out in front of me was this offer.
Victor stood up.
"Come," he said. "I'll show you the room you'll be staying in."
That was when I realized… it was already very late. The day had ended without me even noticing. Victor headed for the stairs, and I followed silently behind him. When we reached the upper floor, he stopped in the hallway and opened the third door.
"You can stay here," he said.
Then he pointed to the door directly across.
"That's my room."
He gestured to the one beside it.
"And that's Evan's."
Without waiting for me to say anything, he turned toward his own room. He went inside and closed the door. I didn't hear a lock click—but to me, that door had closed all the same.
I stood there for a moment. Then I entered the room he had shown me.
It was simple, yet spacious. Clean, orderly, and cold. Even a guest room in this house was worth two rooms in our old home. The thought made my chest ache.
I walked slowly to the bed and lay down, staring at the ceiling. When I closed my eyes, the thoughts that had taken my mind hostage swarmed over me—debts, threats, Victor's gaze, Evan's pale face…
There was nowhere to run.
And sleep caught me together with that truth.
---
Victor stood in front of the door.
He raised his hand but didn't knock. His fingers hovered in the air. There was no sound coming from inside. He didn't know whether she was asleep or lying awake, staring at the ceiling, lost in thought.
He took a deep breath.
For the first time in years, there was a stranger in this house. But the reason for that unfamiliarity wasn't Nora. The stranger was the decision he had made.
He rested his forehead lightly against the door. When he closed his eyes, Evan's face appeared in his mind—pale, frail, yet his eyes still shining as he tried to smile.
"Dad…"
That whispered voice.
Victor clenched his jaw.
Was there anything a father wouldn't do for his child?
And yet…
To drag a woman's life—her desperation, her body—into the center of such an agreement… this was not a decision that would let him sleep at night.
He lowered his hand.
He didn't knock.
He didn't want to wake her.
Or perhaps he didn't want to stop himself.
The hallway was silent. He paused in front of Evan's room. The door was slightly open. He looked inside. His son was in a deep sleep, his chest rising and falling with effort.
Victor didn't enter.
He only watched.
"Hold on," he murmured. "I promise…"
Then he straightened up. A heavy weight settled onto his shoulders. In this house, everything was under his control—companies, people, money…
But life…
Life didn't listen to him.
He stepped back and headed to his own room. When he closed the door, he realized—for the first time—that he was afraid of being alone.
And for the first time… he thought about the cost of the decision he had made.
---
I couldn't breathe.
There was an invisible weight on my chest—pressing down, crushing my lungs. I wanted to scream, but no sound came out. My feet were nailed to the floor.
They were at the door.
Men in black suits… faceless. As if they were nothing but shadows. They started knocking.
One…
Two…
Three…
With every knock, the house grew smaller. The walls leaned toward me, leaving no space to breathe.
"Debt," they said in unison.
Their voices were muffled. Not human.
I stepped back. There was no wall behind me.
There was a cliff.
I looked down—dark, bottomless emptiness.
Then I heard crying.
A child's cry.
Evan.
I turned around.
He was lying on the ground. So small… smaller than he should have been. His body was motionless. I looked down at my stomach—it was large. But inside me… there was nothing.
I looked at my hands. There was blood. On my clothes, on the floor… everywhere.
"You're too late," a voice said.
I lifted my head.
Victor stood in front of me.
His face was cold. He was holding a contract. The papers fluttered in the wind, rippling like blood.
Then, from far away, I heard a voice.
"Nora… Nora… wake up, Nora…"
I jolted awake.
My chest was rising and falling rapidly. I was gasping for air. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I noticed a silhouette in front of me.
Victor.
I hadn't expected to see him there.
I couldn't stop myself. My body shook, and I started crying—not quietly, but with a pain that tore itself out of me.
Victor said nothing.
He just stood beside me.
I cried for a long time. He stayed there without saying a single word.
Finally, I couldn't take it anymore.
"I accept," I said in a trembling voice.
Victor looked at me. He understood… but it was as if he didn't want to believe it.
"I didn't understand," he said, as though he needed to hear it again.
I lowered my gaze.
"I accept your offer," I said.
Then I looked at him.
His eyes… were shining. With happiness. With hope.
He stood up suddenly.
"We'll talk about this tomorrow," he said. "It's very late. It's not even morning yet."
He hesitated.
"If you want, lie back down. Sleep."
Then he turned around and left the room, closing the door softly behind him.
I was alone again.
As always.
I lay back down on the bed and stared at the ceiling.
I began to think about how this process would work, what awaited me, what would remain of myself in the end.
And I realized…
There was no turning back now.