The cab was silent, except for the soft hum of traffic beyond the windows. Maera sat stifflybeside Sim, one arm gently curled around her as if to protect her. Sim's hand rested instinctivelyon her stomach—not from pain, but as if shielding something delicate inside her. "It's done," Sim whispered, staring out the window. "They said... everything looked perfect." Maera didn't respond immediately. Her gaze lingered on the raindrops sliding down the
glass."You'll rest when we get home. No moving around. You promised me." Sim smiled faintly, but her voice trembled. "Maera… there won't be a problem, right?" she askedsoftly. "We delayed the treatment... because of that Japan trip." Maera finally turned to her, her voice firm yet calm."The embryo was frozen, Sim. Nothingwasharmed. Your body is doing well too. The doctor told us that, remember?"
"Still... I'm scared," Sim whispered, turning to face her. "What if we missed something?" Maera reached over and gently took her hand."If anything was missed... I'll go back and bringit
home." Sim blinked, tears pricking her eyes."You'd fight the whole world for this baby, wouldn't you?""I already am." The city lights blurred as the cab turned into their block. Neither noticed the black van parkedacross the street. Neither saw the figure watching them from behind tinted windows. Once home, Maera stepped out first and rushed to open Sim's door."Come on," she said gently, taking Sim's hand and helping her out. Sim smiled at her, warmth in her eyes. My gentle woman, she thought quietly. Maera supported her with one arm and led her inside. As soon as Sim was seated on the sofa, aloud clatter came from outside—something falling. "You sit, I'll check," Maera said quickly. She stepped outside, but the street was empty. Only a stray cat darted from the railing anddisappeared into the shadows. Maera sighed deeply and went back in... but the sofa was empty. "Sim?" she called out. Sim's voice floated from the kitchen. "I'm here!"
Maera muttered under her breath, "This girl never learns." She hurried into the kitchen. "I told you not to take a single step, Sim." Sim grinned mischievously. "I was just reheating dinner." Maera raised an eyebrow. "Are you going back to the sofa on your own, or should I carryyouthere?" Sim laughed. "Oh come on, just one minute—almost done!" Maera didn't wait. She scooped Sim up into a princess carry. "Hey! Mae, put me down!" Sim giggled. But Maera wasn't the kind to listen."No way, Sim," she said in a tone that was half-playful, half- serious as she carried her toward the bedroom. She laid Sim down gently on the bed. Sim wrapped her arms around Maera's neck, eyes shining. Maera laughed softly, their gazes locking. Sim's eyes sparkled with that quiet joy—the kind you show only to the one you love. Maera looked at her for a long moment."Has anyone ever told you," she whispered, "that whenyou smile like this... you look just like a rose?"
"Mae," Sim grinned, "all I know right now is... the stove is still on and dinner's about to burn."Maera's eyes widened."Oh no!" she gasped, leapt up, and rushed back to the kitchen. Sim, lying on the bed, couldn't stop laughing. She shook her head fondly, as if saying to
herself:My woman will always be like this... no matter what. In the lights of New York, their joy shimmered quietly. They wanted to fill this new chapter of their life with peace and warmth—for the little one ontheway. But life... still had a few games left to play. _______________________________________________________________________>>>>The shrill scream of her alarm yanked Sara out of sleep. She blinked. Groaned. Rolled over. And promptly decided that sleep was the superior option to whatever the real world had planned.
Half-asleep, half-conscious, and entirely unwilling, she pulled the blanket over her head likeasoldier surrendering to fate. But then it hit her—like an emotional truck at full speed. "Today's the paper." That single thought electrified her spine. In one motion—robotic, precise, and horrifyinglyefficient—Sara shot upright in bed like a toaster launching bread. Confused and disoriented, she squinted around the room. Something was... off. Her nose twitched. Bleach? Lavender?
She scanned the space again. Her half-dreaming eyes began to truly open. The roomwas... clean. Not just clean. Suspiciously clean. Like CSI: Disinfectant Unit had paid a visit. The curtains were properly drawn. The floor was spotless. Her study table—usually a warzoneofempty snack wrappers and academic despair—was now a minimalist's dream, her books stackedneatly as if auditioning for a productivity vlog. Sara staggered to her feet like a baby deer discovering gravity. She tiptoed to the washroomandflung the door open dramatically. The washroom gleamed. Tiles sparkled. The sink glowed. The mirror, for once, actually reflected things. Sara's jaw dropped. Her memory, still fuzzy from sleep, reminded her vaguely that she'd passedout on the bathroom floor last night. So how the hell did she end up in bed?
Even more puzzling: her own state. She looked down at herself. Clean. Her body was squeaky clean. She was dressed in a proper night suit. Her hair wasn't doingthat
usual medusa impersonation but was—wait—neatly tied?
"Who am I?" she whispered, bewildered. "And what have they done to the real Sara?" For a brief, blessed moment, she even forgot she had a university exam. Then her foot stepped into the room again, and her eyes landed on a small note resting onher
study table.
She picked it up hesitantly, like it might explode. "Sara, at least clean your room once in a while. – L" She blinked. She reread. And then her eyes widened in pure betrayal. "Excuse me??" Before she could even yell an imaginary comeback, her brain finally caught up. "The paper!"
"Oh crap, I totally forgot!" she shrieked, tossing the note aside like it had personally ruinedher
life. In full panic mode, she launched into action. Clothes were yanked from the wardrobe withmilitary urgency. She leapt back into the washroom, changed at lightning speed, tied her hair
with the grave seriousness of a woman going to war, and brushed her teeth like she was preppingfor a courtroom cross-examination. Did she study much?
Absolutely not. Was she going to pass?
Statistically doubtful. But still—dressed, armed with existential dread, and running purely on adrenaline and flavoredtoothpaste—Sara grabbed her bag and bolted from the room like a soldier charging into battle. Because whether she survived the exam or not, one thing was certain:
Someone had cleaned her room. And that mystery?Would haunt her long after the grades stopped mattering. _________________________________________________________________>>>>>Sam had taken his medicine the night before, fully intending to wake up fresh and ready for hisexam. That... didn't happen. When his eyes finally fluttered open the next morning, he had exactly ten minutes left beforethepaper began.
For a full second, he sat upright, frozen—trying to comprehend how time had personallybetrayed him. His hand reached instinctively for his phone. It was dead. Completely black-screened, lifeless, and probably judging him from the afterlife. Right.He had left that one song on loop the entire night. Romantic tragedy on repeat. Poetic, yes. Practical? Absolutely not. So no alarm. No reminder. No mercy. He groaned softly, massaging his lower back and wincing. Sleeping in the world's most
uncomfortable position had taken its toll. His back hurt. And—more annoyingly—so didhis
garden. Yes, that garden. It needed soothing. Rubbing his temple, he glanced again at the phone, still dead. Usually, his second alarmwasn't
even technological. It was Zero. It didn't matter what kind of chaos the world was in—whether Zero had studied or not, whether
he understood the syllabus or thought "economics" was a skincare brand—if there was any
academic activity, Zero would be ready for it like a soldier marching into war. One night beforethe exam, Zero would already be imagining the examination hall layout, escape routes, andideal
seat placement. Sam smiled faintly at the thought.That was Zero—reckless, loud, impatient... but weirdlyreliable. But today… Zero hadn't come to wake him up. The smile vanished just as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by a strange weight in his chest. It wasn't panic. Just… absence.A quiet little ache. Sam sighed—long and tired—and dragged himself into the washroom. No revision. No last-minute prep. Just vibes and regret. He reached university by sheer willpower (and muscle memory), navigating the route like
someone who had done this journey too many times while sleep-deprived. And for the first time ever, Sam entered the exam hall fifteen minutes late. He offered the invigilator an apologetic nod and took his seat with an awkward shuffle. Noexcuses. Just shame. The paper was placed in front of him. He glanced at the first question.
And that was it. Whatever engines his brain had—main, backup, or emotional—shut down instantly. He stared at the page. Then continued staring.And stared some more. Eventually, he accepted what needed to be accepted:He didn't know 85%of this paper. Not the general idea.Not the topic.Not even the font. He exhaled deeply, leaning back just a little, and quietly made peace with the fact that todaywasn't about excellence.Today was about survival. And maybe… remembering to charge his phone next time. Later that day, Sam sat quietly in the university cafeteria. Unsurprisingly, his exam had gone terribly. But unlike him, when he'd briefly glanced over at
Sara during the paper, she had been fully focused—lost in her answers, scribbling away as if thequestions were old friends. Now, Sam was nursing a cup of coffee. Just like always. But today…it didn't taste the same. Something felt off.Or rather—someone was missing. Zero. He tried not to think about it. He really did. But Zero had a way of sticking in his mind like asong that refused to stop playing. Every sip of coffee, every creak of the plastic chair beneathhim, every tired blink—all of it reminded him of the boy who used to sit across fromhim, pokingfun, rolling his eyes, stealing fries off his tray with no remorse. Zero would've been here.He always was. Especially during exam days, Zero used to stay over at Sam's place, half studying, half
distracting him. He'd become a part of Sam's routine—no, more than that.He'd become a part of
him. And now that he was gone... the silence hurt in ways Sam didn't know how to explain. He knew he should be angry. After everything Zero had done—after the way he'd left—anger
would've made sense. Logical. Justified. But all Sam felt was this strange hollow ache.Even though his mind tried to block Zero out, hisheart quietly, stubbornly refused.
He took another sip. Bitter. Faintly warm. Lonely. And then—
"Hey Sam, how are you?" He looked up. Sara was standing beside him, her bag slipping slightly off her shoulder, her voice casual but
gentle. She'd clearly noticed him sitting alone. Sam gave her a small smile. It didn't reach his eyes. His tone was polite, soft. But anyone listening closely could hear the weight behind it—a sadnesseven he didn't fully understand. Because truth be told, he didn't know what he was feeling. If he was hurting... why?
Shouldn't he be angry?Shouldn't he be done with Zero?
But somewhere inside, buried under confusion and bruised ego, the only thing he truly felt…wasthat he missed him. Sara slid into the empty chair beside Sam. "Where's Zero? Is he okay?" she asked curiously. "He left. Went back…" Sam replied, his voice flat and expression unreadable. "Left? What do you mean?" Sara blinked in surprise. "His parents got into an accident. He had to leave urgently," Sam explained, his tone dry, almost
mechanical. "Oh… I'm sorry," Sara said gently. "Hm," was all Sam said in return. For a few moments, silence hung between them, only filled by the distant clatter of trays andmurmurs of other students. Then Sam spoke again. "How was your exam?" Sara turned toward him, her face lighting up. "Surprisingly well," she said with a cheerful laugh.
Sam raised a brow. "'Surprisingly'?"
"I mean—I didn't study much at all. But when I saw the paper, it was like…all the answers just
started coming to me out of nowhere. I kept writing and writing," she said with a spark of
disbelief in her eyes. Sam didn't know what to say to that. Words didn't come. So he simply said, "Oh," and gave a slight nod. "What about yours? You don't look so good. Did it not go well?" Sara asked, concern slippinginto her voice. "No, it's not that… I just—couldn't really study. You know?" Sam mumbled, eyes lowered, hisvoice fading. "It's okay. I get it," Sara said softly, sparing him the struggle of explaining further. She glanced at her watch, then back at him. "Sam, the exam's over now. I'mstarving. What doyou say we grab something to eat? There's a two-day gap before the next paper—we'll prepproperly this time." Sam was just finishing the last sip of his coffee. He paused at her offer. A part of him wanted to say no—wanted to sit there, stay in his silence
But maybe… maybe this would help clear his head. Just a little. So, after a small breath, he gave her a nod."Yeah. Let's go." ______________________________________________________________>>>>>
The moment Zero stepped onto the soil of Austin, he took a deep breath. The cool, gentle
November breeze brushed against his exhausted body, offering a fleeting sense of relief. Hewastired—not just from the journey, but from the storm of thoughts that had chased himthroughout
the flight. Within minutes, he exited Austin-Bergstrom International Airport and bookedacab heading straight to St. David's South Austin Medical Center, located just about 15–20minutes away from the airport. When the cab arrived, Zero quietly loaded his luggage and slipped into the back seat. He put onhis earphones, closed his eyes, and leaned his head against the backrest. Outside, the November
weather was soft and chilly. The sky was veiled in a light layer of clouds, and yellowleaves werescattered across the roads—as if everything around him was carrying a quiet melancholy. Soft music slowly calmed the chaos in his mind, and within moments, he drifted off to sleep. Heonly woke up to the sound of the driver's voice:"Sir, we've reached the hospital."
Zero gently rubbed his eyes, stepped out, picked up his bags, and without wasting a second, walked into the hospital. At the reception, when he asked for information, he was told the
accident had been severe—his father's condition was still unstable, while his mother was out
of danger but had been left paralyzed. Hearing that, it felt like yet another mountain had collapsed onto his chest. "Can I see my mom?"He asked, steadying his voice. A storm of emotion surged beneathit, but
he was trying hard to stay in control."You can meet her in about two hours," the doctor
replied and walked away. "Thank you…" Zero murmured faintly. He found an empty chair nearby and sank into it, running both hands through his hair in
frustration. Anxiety clawed at his insides. Grief pressed down on his shoulders like lead. Unable to hold it in any longer, he covered his face with both hands and let it out—not loud, not
wild—just quiet, broken sobs muffled in his palms. The kind of sorrow that comes not frompanic, but from helplessness. From love. From guilt. ____________________________________________________________>>>>>>>>>>>>It was five in the evening. Sam had already said goodbye to Sara and was nowon his wayhome. The evening air was cool, the wind brushing softly against his face, and there were signs it might
rain. He kept walking toward his place. After meeting Sara, his mind had felt a little lighter—at
least for a while. But like always, it never lasted long. When he reached home, the place was still a mess. Of course, after everything that had happenedlast night, he hadn't gotten the time or energy to clean up. He set his bag down on one side andimmediately got to work. About thirty minutes later, after putting everything in order, he finally went for a shower. After
the shower, he stood on the balcony with a warm cup of coffee, the steam rising gently intothechilly air. He sipped in silence, lost in thought, his gaze somewhere far away. "Ding..."A notification lit up his phone. Startled, Sam quickly set the cup down and reachedfor
the device—but…
"Someone liked your post." His heart sank. Disappointed, he placed the phone back where it was and turned his gaze onceagain to the sky. He didn't even know what he was searching for up there…But then again, people only searchtheskies for something that's lost.
And the ones who are truly gone—You don't search for them.You just learn to live with theachethey leave behind. _______________________________________________________>>>>>>>>>
In the hospital parking lot, Zero stood alone.A cigarette in his hand, redness in his eyes, andemptiness in his heart.Clouds had gathered in the sky — as if each one carried the face of his
mother. His face looked like that of a traveler worn down by years.It wasn't just love —life itself hadbroken him.He was silent — but inside, a storm raged.He desperately wanted... someone toholdhim, someone to say: "It's okay, Zero... everything will be alright."But there was no one. And now... even Sam wasn't there. Restlessly, he pulled his phone from the pocket of his jeans.Opened Sam's chat thread.He wasabout to type 'S' — but suddenly, every action of his flashed back in his mind.He closed thechat
in panic, avoided the screen, and took another drag of his cigarette. Then, he pulled out his earphones.Played a song:
My soul's bird flutters endlessly,But never finds an island of peace…
Zero closed his eyes and leaned his head against the hospital wall. What do I do, what can I do?Just once, give me a glimpse of light,Even if it's false, showmesome comfort.. Tears rolled down.The cigarette smoke filled his lungs — butthe pain inside... was still there. He checked the time.Wiped his face.And with a quiet resolve, walked inside the hospital. After getting permission from the doctor, he entered the ICU.On the bed lay his mother —bandaged, unconscious. Zero took slow steps toward her.His hands trembled.So did his voice. "M…mo…mom…"His voice was broken. He placed his hand gently over hers, IV drips trailing from it.For the first time, he felt…thestrange peace that lives in a mother's touch. "Mother…" Tears fell from Zero's eyes again.His hair was disheveled.His eyes, red. The war he'd been fighting in his heart… her one touch had paused it.
He sat on the chair beside her, resting his head on her hand...And without words, he wept. "I don't even know what to tell you, Mom…I'm so tired…There's so much pain inside me…right
here… in my heart…Please… just get better…I need you… Please come back to me…" The whole room was silent.Only the sound of Zero's sobs echoed —And within that echowas
the truth of a broken heart.
To Be Continued..