2025-10-16 04:02:53I felt a tap on my back. I gently raised my head from my mom's embrace, rubbing my eyes. Dr. Julian and a nurse stood beside me, the nurse holding a clipboard. "Good morning," Dr. Julian said. "Morning, what do you want?" I replied. "We need to check her vitals," he said, his hand gesturing towards my mom.
I stood up and left the room, watching Dr. Julian and the nurse through the door. After a few minutes, Dr. Julian came out, facing me. "How's she doing?" I asked, hoping for good news. "Her body isn't responding to treatment, and she needs a new heart urgently," he said, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder. "I'll go pay the bills," I said, trying to process the news. "Keep her stable and breathing until then." Dr. Julian nodded. "I'll go inside and let her know I'm leaving," I added. He nodded again, his hands on the door handle. "And please don't tell her," he said, turning back to me. "Okay, I won't," I replied. I kissed my mom's cheek, whispering, "I'm going to go search for a job." She winced, her eyes blurry, but she faced me. Her hands found their way into my hair, caressing it. "Good luck," she whispered, her voice strained through the oxygen tube. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes as I kissed her knuckles. "Thank you," I said, before quickly leaving so she wouldn't see me cry. The cold air hit me as I stepped out of the hospital. It was time for me to face reality. I took a bus to New York City, determined to find a good reporting job. But after hours of searching, I was met with rejection. Every company seemed to say the same thing: "No vacant spot" or "Not hiring at the moment." I pushed the thoughts aside and walked into a small restaurant, taking a seat by the window. A slender figure in a black and white apron, with sand-colored hair, called out my name. "Jones!" It was Maxwell, my best friend. We used to tease him about being a waiter instead of having an "official" job. We shook hands, and he sat down across from me. "What's the problem, bro? Aren't you going to get to work?" he asked. I hesitated, trying to hold back tears. "I lost my job... and my mom's been hospitalized. She needs a new heart." Max's expression turned sympathetic, and he shot me a comforting gaze. "I'm so sorry. I had no idea you were carrying all this burden." "It's not your fault, brother," I said, trying to reassure him. "I just don't like spreading my problems to people." Max nodded understandingly. We talked for a while, and I found some comfort in his company. He offered to help me out, lending me some money to cover half the hospital bills. He also offered to get my mom her favorite meal: chicken noodle soup and a chicken burger. "Thanks, man," I said, smiling. "I'll get going to the hospital." Max smiled back, his eyes genuine. "No need to thank me. You've done more for me in the past, remember? You'd drop everything to bail me out of trouble. I appreciate what you've done for me, bro. You showed me what it feels like to have a brother." "My regards to your mom," he said, as we parted ways. "Take care of yourself, brother. Come see me tomorrow." I nodded, I felt a sense of gratitude towards him. When I got to the hospital, i went to my mom's room. As i stood in the doorway, I saw Marie Yoon-Ah my Korean American girlfriend. She wore a white shirt tucked into her blue pant, more like an official work outfit and her long hair swaying at her back . She had light makeup, though without the makeup she's still pretty and a matching necklace and earrings. We met when I was on an interview section with Kai Won Alexander. It was crazy and thrilling when she ask for my number from a colleague. We became friends, but she wanted more for us than friend, And so did I. We've been dating for the past six months, she has been so supportive and caring even when I wasn't showing more of it. I Love her so much cause she makes everything seems easy and makes me want to do better. And offer her a good life, the kind she's used to than this miserable one I'm living. She said something that made my mom laughed while she giggles acting cute. The view of both women made my heart sink into happiness and a smile lit up my face.
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CHAPTER 41
POV: Logan The prison gate didn’t creak. It hummed. Low. Mechanical. Indifferent. Steel sliding over steel. The sound of something opening that had never cared whether it held monsters or men. The guards walked him out without speaking. He didn’t rush. Didn’t hesitate. Didn’t look back. Handcuffs locked around his wrists. Cold metal against inked skin. The tattoos at his neck had faded slightly over the years, but they were still there — sharp lines disappearing beneath the collar of prison-issued gray. His shoulders were broader than when he went in. Prison had aged him, yes — carved deeper lines into his face — but it hadn’t weakened him. If anything, it had sharpened him. They led him into the white processing room. Too bright. Too sterile. Too artificial. He sat when told. Across the metal table, a senior officer adjusted his collar, trying not to stare. “Name.” The officer’s voice was steady. Barely. “Logan Walterson.” Not loud. Not aggressive. Just deliberate
CHAPTER 40
POV: Johnny Johnny didn’t drink when he worked. Not when something felt off. The office in his house was dim, a single desk lamp casting a hard cone of light over scattered paper files, printed stills from surveillance footage, and a corkboard nailed with photographs. Barry. Jones. The site layout. The elevator shaft. Johnny leaned back in his chair, remote in hand, eyes locked on the screen. The footage replayed again. And again. And again. He wasn’t watching Jones anymore. He was watching the environment. Timing. Silence. Blind spots. The elevator corridor flickered on the screen — the timestamp blinking 23:47 before glitching forward three seconds. Three seconds. Too clean to be random. He rewound. Paused. Zoomed. The elevator had been declared non-functional that night. According to the maintenance schedule, a technician had been dispatched after multiple complaints. And according to police records — which Johnny had access to through a favor owed — the t
CHAPTER 39
POV: Kai The private investigator arrived at 10:00 a.m. sharp. No handshake. No small talk. He slid a thin folder across Kai’s desk. “You asked for quiet,” he said. “This is quiet.” Kai didn’t sit. He opened the file standing. First page — basic background. Jones. Employment history. Education. Nothing alarming. Then the inconsistencies began. Birth certificate — amended. Hospital listed — no longer operational. Original records — missing. Surname discrepancy at age seven. Guardianship transfer — undocumented. Kai’s pulse slowed. Not in fear. In focus. “This isn’t clerical error,” he said. “No,” the investigator agreed. “This is deliberate restructuring.” Kai flipped to the final page. A name buried in an old municipal archive. Almost erased. Walter. Not Walterson. Just Walter. But the connection thread was there. Thin. Intentional. Kai’s breathing changed. Walter. The same surname that had surfaced decades ago in corporate feuds. The same bloodline
CHAPTER 38
Jones leaned back in his chair slowly. His apartment was too quiet. The kind of quiet that makes every small sound louder than it should be — the fridge humming, traffic passing outside, the faint ticking of the cheap wall clock above the kitchen door. He didn’t feel angry. That was the worst part He felt… removed. Like he was watching his own life from across the room. His phone buzzed. Unknown number. He didn’t answer. It stopped. Buzzed again. This time he picked up. “Hello?” Static. Then a click. No voice. He lowered the phone slowly, staring at it. Someone was testing the line. Or confirming it worked. He tried calling the lawyer Max mentioned. Voicemail. He tried again. Voicemail. He texted. No reply. He opened his messages and scrolled through news alerts. It didn’t take long. CONTRACTOR FOUND DEAD AT PRIVATE SITE. POLICE QUESTION KEY INDIVIDUAL. INSIDE SOURCES SUGGEST INTERNAL DISPUTE. He didn’t need to open the articles to know who that “key individ
CHAPTER 37
Lewis The laughter at the dinner table lingered in his ears long after Marie walked out. Lewis didn’t move immediately. He finished his wine. Set the glass down. Only then did he excuse himself with a composed nod. Outside, the night air was colder than expected. He loosened his tie slightly as he stepped away from the house and toward his car. His jaw was tight — not from embarrassment. From fury. She had marks on her neck. And she hadn’t even bothered to hide them. Jones. The name alone made something ugly stir beneath his calm exterior. His phone vibrated. He glanced at the screen. Unknown number. He answered. “Yes.” A pause. Then a familiar voice — distorted slightly by static. “We have a complication.” Lewis leaned against the side of his car, eyes scanning the dark driveway. “What kind?” “The one you thought wouldn’t matter.” Lewis went still. “Be clear.” “He’s asking questions.” Lewis’ expression sharpened. “Who?” “The friend.” Max. Lewis exhaled
CHAPTER 36
Marie The silence between us had weight. Not the comfortable kind. Not the kind that wraps around you like safety. The kind that sits in your lungs and refuses to let you breathe properly. I stood outside Jones’ apartment for a full minute before knocking. My hand hovered longer than it should have. Pride told me to leave. Anger told me to demand answers. Something softer told me to just walk away before I got hurt. I knocked anyway. The door opened slowly. He looked tired. Not physically—though there were faint shadows under his eyes—but the kind of tired that settles deeper than sleep can fix. His jaw tightened slightly when he saw me. “Marie.” Not warm. Not cold. Careful. “You weren’t answering my calls,” I said. He stepped aside without responding.I walked in. The apartment felt different tonight. Not messy. Not unfamiliar. Just… heavy. Like something had shifted in the air and refused to leave. He closed the door behind me. “You shouldn’t be here,” he said quiet
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