Mrs Harrison had been doing fine for some weeks, but one cold morning, things changed. Clara noticed it first. Their mother tried to stand up from the bed but almost collapsed. Her breathing was weak, her face looked pale, and she pressed her hand on her chest like something was squeezing her from the inside.Ava rushed to her side. “Mom, what’s wrong? Are you okay? Talk to us,” she said, already shaking.Mrs Harrison tried to smile, but her lips trembled. “I’m… I’m fine. Maybe it’s just stress. I didn’t sleep well.”But Clara wasn’t convinced. She placed her hand on her mother’s forehead and felt the burning heat. “Mom, you’re running a fever. This is not normal. We need to go to the hospital.”Mrs Harrison shook her head weakly. “Hospital again? Clara, we don’t have—” She didn’t finish. A heavy cough cut her words short.Ava looked like she would burst into tears. “Clara, please… do something.”Clara swallowed hard. Her hands were shaking, but she forced herself to stay

The week passed slowly, but inside the Harrison home, strange things began to happen—strange in a good way, but still confusing to Clara and Ava. Mrs. Harrison was taken back to the hospital for proper treatment. The nurses attended to her kindly, checking on her every few hours. They even moved her to a clean private room, something far beyond what the family could afford.Clara stood beside the bed, staring at the white sheets and the fresh medicines placed neatly on the table.“Who paid for all this?” she whispered.Ava shook her head. “I don’t know… The doctor said the deposit was made already. But how?” Her voice trembled with worry and relief mixed together.Clara sat down. “It wasn’t the landlady. It wasn’t Eric. You and I don’t have this kind of money. So who is helping us?”Ava didn’t answer. She didn’t have one.But outside the room, something else was happening.Eric had arrived at the hospital—not to visit Mrs. Harrison, but because he had heard rumors. The landlady h

The security light swept across the hallway again.Ryan held his breath and pressed himself against the dusty cabinet. His heart pounded so loudly that he feared the guards would hear it. He had come to his father’s company with one purpose—to find any hidden document that proved his father was the real owner. Something the killers failed to destroy.But now he was trapped.The security guard at the front entrance had already passed twice, his heavy boots echoing. Ryan could hear the man breathing, hear the static of his walkie-talkie. A second guard joined him.“I heard something inside,” the guard said. “It sounded like metal falling.”Ryan closed his eyes. That metal sound had been his mistake. His sleeve had brushed a loose iron rod on the shelf. The small *clang* had echoed through the whole store room.“Check well,” the second guard said. “No one should be inside. The new owners ordered extra patrols.”Ryan stayed silent. Running was dangerous. Fighting would expose him. And bei

Ryan sat on the old wooden chair inside the small hidden house he used as his shelter. The place was quiet, far from town, surrounded by tall trees and silence. His shirt was soaked with sweat and blood. The wound on his arm burned painfully, but he did not stop. He breathed heavily and placed a clean cloth on the injury.He winced. The pain was sharp, but he forced himself to stay calm. He had been through worse. He had slept on cold floors, worked under the sun, endured hunger when running away from danger. Pain did not break him. It only reminded him why he must fight.He cleaned the injury slowly, pressing the cloth against the bleeding skin. The image of the masked man flashed in his mind again and again. The loud sound inside the company building, the sudden attack, the gun pointed at him, and the heavy fight they had in the dark.He closed his eyes tightly.“Who is he?” Ryan whispered to himself.He could still hear the stranger’s footsteps running away into the night. He had t

Eric stood in front of the mirror, adjusting his shirt for the tenth time. He had borrowed money again—money he knew he could never repay—just to impress Vanessa. The interest on the loan was already rising, yet he didn’t care. All he wanted was to look rich enough for her.He sprayed almost half of the expensive perfume he bought on credit, then practiced his smile. “Perfect,” he muttered. “Tonight, she will finally take me seriously.”Vanessa was rich, elegant, and lived in a part of town Eric had only seen in movies. He didn’t care about her personality. All he saw was wealth, influence, and the chance to level up. If he married her, he believed his life would change overnight.He grabbed the keys of the rented car he was pretending to own and drove off.When he arrived at the fancy restaurant where Vanessa asked to meet him, he stepped out slowly, pretending not to be impressed by the expensive cars around. Inside, he spotted Vanessa immediately. She wore a red gown that screame