“Maria,”James said quietly, “why are you avoiding my eyes?”She froze at the dining table. The silver spoon trembled in her hand. “I’m not avoiding you,”she whispered. “You haven’t looked at me once tonight.”The tension in the room was sharp, thin as a blade. The house was warm, elegant, filled with the smell of roasted chicken and herbs. But between James and his wife… only coldness. Maria pushed back her chair. “I’m just tired.”“No,”James said. “You’re hiding something.”She stiffened, eyes darting to the hallway as if expecting someone to appear. James noticed. He noticed everything. “Sit,”he said. Maria hesitated. Then sat. James leaned forward. “You haven’t kissed me in two weeks. You flinch when I touch you. You don’t sleep beside me anymore. Tell me what’s going on.”Her hands shook under the table. “You’re imagining things.”“No. I’m not.” James’s voice turned low. “Is it money? Are you unhappy? Did I fail you somewhere?”Maria kept her head down.James inhaled slowly. H

The night wind pushed against the hospital windows, carrying the kind of silence that hides danger underneath it.Dr. Daniel Wood sat alone in his office, the lamp casting a soft glow across the stack of patient files. His fingers tapped the desk, slow… thoughtful… controlled.But his eyes, those calm, mature eyes of a man who had once lived and died, held a storm. A knock came at the door. He didn’t look up. “Come in.”The door cracked open. A young nurse stepped in nervously. “Doctor… the seven visitors you asked about… they’ve all arrived.”Daniel’s heartbeat steadied, not raced. “Good,” he said quietly.“Which one is here first?”She swallowed. “Tom… sir.”Daniel leaned back in his chair. Of course it would be Tom. The man who slept with his wife. The man who recorded everything. The man who laughed while betrayal burned through James Wood’s veins. Daniel closed the file on his desk.“Send him in.”The nurse hesitated. “He… uh… he looks tense.”Daniel gave a faint smile. “Let him b

James sat in the back seat of the car, his tiny legs swinging while his father drove through the early morning traffic. The soft hum of the engine filled the silence. Dr. Nelson glanced at him through the mirror. “You’re unusually quiet today.”James looked out the window. “I’m thinking.”Nelson smiled. “About toys?”“No.”“School?”“No.”Nelson chuckled. “Then what do three-year-olds think about?”James turned his head just enough for his father to see his eyes, calm, observant, frighteningly adult. “People.”Nelson frowned. “People?”“People who pretend.”Nelson tightened his grip on the steering wheel. This again. “James,”he said gently, “about yesterday… that man didn’t mean any harm.”“He will,” James whispered.Nelson swallowed. “How do you know that?”James leaned back against the seat. “I just know.”Nelson didn’t argue. He was beginning to realize something: His son wasn’t guessing.He was certain.AT THE HOSPITALNelson carried James into the hospital lobby. Nurses greeted t

The ambulance sirens wailed through the night as James, now Dr. Adrian Cole, stood over Tom’s unconscious body. The hospital lights flickered above him, bathing the emergency ward in a cold, sterile glow.Nurses rushed in and out. Machines beeped. The smell of antiseptic filled the air. Tom’s breathing was shallow, strained. James didn’t blink. He simply stared.Every heartbeat he heard from Tom was a reminder of a betrayal that once ended his life… and a debt he now intended to collect with precision. But no one knew that except him. Not yet.A young nurse swallowed nervously. “Doctor Cole… the patient’s vitals are dropping.”James spoke calmly. “Prepare intubation equipment.”“Yes, doctor.”Another nurse hesitated. “Do you know him personally?You’ve been staring at him since he arrived.”James’s voice was cool. “I know him very well.”She didn’t know the half of it. Tom coughed weakly on the stretcher. “Wh… where… am I…?”James leaned in. “You’re in the hospital, Tom. You collapsed

For weeks, the hospital halls had felt… wrong. Not broken. Not dangerous. Just watching.Dr. Nelson Wood felt it every time he walked through the dim corridor leading to Ward C, the same place Tom stayed, recovering from his “mysterious” poisoning. The irony was almost poetic. Tonight the air was colder. Still. Too still.He tapped his ID card and stepped into the ward. The lights flickered once—long enough to make his pulse tighten.Tom was sleeping. But someone else was awake. Nelson felt the presence before he saw it. A silhouette stood at the hallway entrance, motionless, blending with the shadows as if carved from night itself. A man. Tall. Quiet. Uninvited.Nelson’s heart slowed. Not in fear, no. In recognition. Someone was finally making a move. He shifted slightly, pretending to check Tom’s drip while watching the figure through the reflection in the metal cabinet door.The shadow didn’t move. Nelson spoke calmly without turning. “If you’re here to finish what you started,” he