Jenna had not moved from her sofa all morning. Her phone sat beside her untouched, the TV remote idle on her lap. Her eyes, already swollen from crying, stayed fixed on the flat screen in front of her.It was the third time this morning she was watching the same news report—Jordan Jefferson’s car found burnt beyond recognition in a suspected fatal accident. No survivors. Authorities still investigating.“No,” she said again, for the umpteenth time. “Jordan cannot be dead.”Marcus, her long-time driver and guardian, sat quietly at the dining area. He’d tried talking to her, tried distracting her, but nothing was working. She barely ate the food he placed in front of her the night before. Now, she hadn’t touched water since dawn.“Jenna,” Marcus said softly, rising from his seat. “Please. You need to pull yourself together. Watching this thing again and again won’t change anything.”She turned to him, eyes glassy and voice firm. “I don’t believe he’s dead, Marcus. I can still feel him.

Jordan’s eyes fluttered open to near darkness. The faint scent of burning wood hung in the air. He blinked a few times, trying to understand where he was.Wooden walls enclosed the small space, the roof low enough to make him feel caged.“Where am I?” his voice came out hoarse, dry from thirst. But there was no answer.He shifted to sit up, but pain surged through his body like a sharp current. He fell back on the rough bed, groaning. The movement must have been louder than he thought because the wooden door creaked open, and a woman, somewhere in her fifties, stepped in.Her hair was wrapped in a faded scarf, and her eyes carried the calmness of someone used to solitude.“You shouldn’t move,” she said softly, moving closer. “Rest. You need it to heal.”Jordan studied her face, then asked, “Who are you? Where is this place? What happened to me? How long have I been here?”She placed a firm but gentle hand on his shoulder, easing him back onto the bed. “One question at a time. You were

Zoe’s heels clicked hard against the tiled floor as she pushed the door open with force. Her chest was rising fast, her breath caught between fear and fury.The living room was dim, only the glow from the chandelier lighting the room.Esther sat with one leg crossed over the other, a glass of red wine in her hand, eyes fixed on the television like the world outside didn’t exist.“Mum!” Zoe’s voice tore through the quiet. “Tell me the truth. Is it true? How do you know Jordan is alive?”Esther didn’t flinch. She swirled the wine lazily in the glass, then set it on the small table beside her. “You’re shouting like a stranger in this house. Calm yourself, Zoe. Sit down.”“I didn’t come here to sit down!” Zoe’s face was tight, her eyes wide with panic. “I asked you a question. Answer me now. How do you know?”Esther finally turned her eyes on her daughter, unbothered, her tone sharp but calm. “I have my ways. People in the police. People in the press. They confirmed it to me this morning.

The moment Zoe stepped into the building, the air shifted. Heads turned, conversations hushed, only to restart in low murmurs the second she passed.Whispers carried through the open hallway like smoke that refused to vanish.“She’s here.”“Have you heard? They said he’s alive.”“No wonder she looks unsettled.”Zoe tightened her grip on her bag, her heels striking harder on the marble floor. Her face was stiff, her jaw clenched, her eyes straight ahead.She refused to look left or right. But every step felt heavier, each whisper scratching against her skin.When she reached her office, she pushed the door with force, the bang echoing down the corridor.Inside, she dropped her bag on the desk, breathing heavily. The murmurs still rang in her ears.She pressed the intercom. “Send Felix to my office. Now.”Within minutes, Felix appeared, tall and lean in his grey suit, files tucked under his arm.He closed the door carefully behind him, his eyes flicking briefly to her face before loweri

Doris sat upright in the chair, both hands clasping the file she carried. Her voice was steady but soft.“I didn’t leave Bennett Industries,” she said, eyes meeting Jordan’s directly. “I was fired.”The room stilled. Jenna shifted slightly, her pen pausing over the notepad.Jordan’s eyes narrowed, though his face betrayed nothing.“Fired?” he asked, leaning back in his chair.“Yes, sir,” Doris continued. “My boss felt I was no longer relevant. She said my role had lost value, so she let me go.”Jenna glanced at Jordan, curious about his reaction. Jordan, however, leaned forward again, resting his elbows on the desk.His voice was firm but curious. “You could have hidden that. You could have said you resigned. Yet you chose to say you were fired. Why?”Doris drew in a breath. “Because it is the truth. If I hide it today, it will find me tomorrow. I believe honesty, no matter how painful, is better than half-truths that crumble later.”Jordan studied her face, the calm with which she sp