Zeyla sat at the breakfast table like it was a battlefield. Maya beside her, coffee in hand, already rolling her eyes at Sanlang's latest attempt to be charming.
"You're up early," Noor said, glancing at him once—just once—before turning her attention back to the newspaper.
Sanlang smiled. "I heard someone beautiful was in the kitchen. Imagine my disappointment when I found Zeyla frying eggs."
Zeyla scoffed. "Funny. I was about to say the same when I saw you standing shirtless in the hallway like an abandoned Greek statue. Put a robe on next time, Romeo."
Maya grinned. "At least statues don't talk."
Sanlang turned to Noor, hand over heart. "Do you see what I endure for a moment of your gaze?"
She didn't look up. "The floor endures your footsteps daily and still doesn't complain. Maybe take notes."
Zeyla nearly choked on her toast. "She got you there."
Sanlang leaned closer, voice lower. "One day, Noor. You'll smile at me and the sun will weep out of jealousy."
Noor looked up. Just a blink. A calm, unbothered expression.
Maya whispered to Zeyla, "How many lines does he prepare before entering a room, you think?"
Zeyla whispered back, "I think his mirror is traumatized."
Sanlang sat back, defeated but grinning. Her lips twitched—just slightly. Enough to give him hope. The worst thing she could've given him.
Later, at the orphanage, the air changed.
Noor was surrounded by children—small, loud, sacred. One clung to her dress like she was stitched from stars.
"Is Mother Noor leaving again?" the child asked, blinking up at her with too-honest eyes.
Noor knelt. Her hand cupped the child's face, gentle, cool. "Never without reason, little one. I always come back."
A boy from behind muttered, "Sanlang should learn from her."
"Hey!" Sanlang protested.
"Mother Noor is cool and doesn't flirt with trees."
Zeyla snorted.
Even Noor smiled. A real one, rare and fleeting. She leaned closer to the child and whispered, "If he ever flirts with a tree, I give you permission to chase him with a stick."
Gasps and laughter erupted. Even Maya looked like she might cry from joy.
And then, night came.
The evening arrive and his penthouse was too quiet. The kind of silence that had edges.
Sanlang was alone again.
He stood in the center of his bath, water warm, still. He stared at his reflection in the mirror above the sink.
But the mirror didn't stare back.
He saw himself—and didn't.
Something shifted.
His fingers twitched. Eyes dilated. The air thickened.
"Noor…"
It left his lips like a curse, like a vow.
The mirror cracked. A single fracture, splitting his face in two.
Elsewhere, Noor was alone.
Noor stood before the spring. The moonlight reflected off the water, casting her in a glow that was as beautiful as it was suffocating. She was drowning in her own skin. Her pulse throbbed in her throat, her hands trembling at her sides.Every breath was a betrayal of her body, a call to the abyss.
She stepped forward, the water biting at her ankles, cold like the promise of death. Each step deeper felt like a surrender, a confession to the unseen forces that had pulled her here. Blood mixed with water, swirling around her feet, a reminder of the price she'd paid.
Her chest constricted as the shadows pressed in closer, her body a battlefield she had no strength to defend. She gasped, a sharp sound, but no relief came. Her vision blurred, the world spinning like a slow burn, and then, a voice—soft, mocking—echoed through her mind.
"You wanted this."
Zeyla entered the room , the air inside thick with an unnatural weight. It wasn't the silence that unsettled her—it was the absence of Noor. She felt it in the walls, in the very foundation of the house, as if the life had been drained from everything.
She found Noor at the center, her figure stark against the darkness, eyes wide with something inhuman. The glow from her skin flickered like a dying ember. Her breathing was jagged, each inhale sounding more like a plea than a breath.
"Madam Noor?" Zeyla's voice broke, but there was no response. Noor didn't even acknowledge her, staring into the void as though waiting for something.
A tremor ran through Zeyla. "Tell me."
Noor's lips parted, but it wasn't her voice that spoke. "You're too late."
The room shifted, the shadows around them thickening. A form appeared, tall and impossibly still—a figure . His presence pressed on Zeyla like a weight, each breath harder to take. His eyes locked on Noor, hunger in them, deep and endless.
"Noor..." He whispered, his voice a breath of ice and fire. "You thought you could hide from me."
Noor's body tensed, her hands clutching at her chest , she rasped. "I've always known it would end like this."
Zeyla's heart stopped in her chest.
The shadow moved toward her, a flicker of something dangerous in his gaze. "Don't worry, You're nothing but a shadow."
Before Zeyla could react, before she could reach for Noor, His eyes flicked to her, cold as the grave. He raised his hand, the room warping around them. Noor's body convulsed, her head jerking back as if struck by some invisible force.
Zeyla rushed forward, but the air around her thickened, suffocating, as his presence filled the space. "Don't come near her," Noor gasped, her voice choked with agony. "You—don't—"
Noor's eyes met Zeyla's—flooded with a haunting plea that spoke more than words ever could. "Forgive me."
But with one flick of sword the shadow disappeared so did the sword. Zeyla was not able to make sense of what just happened.
"Noor!" Zeyla rushed forward, panic gripping her as she saw the flash of agony in Noor's face—a rare sight, one Zeyla had never seen before. Noor's body trembled slightly.
"My Lady, what's happening?" Zeyla's voice was sharp with concern as she reached out to support her, but Noor stepped back, her breath ragged and labored.
Before Zeyla could react, Noor staggered forward, her legs giving way as she collapsed onto the floor, her hands trembling violently. Zeyla dropped to her knees beside her, trying to help her up, but the shock in Noor's eyes stopped her cold.
"I... I thought I had more time," Noor whispered, her voice hoarse, barely audible. Her skin, glowing moments ago, had taken on a faint pallor.
"What are you talking about? More time for what?" Zeyla's voice was frantic as she tried to understand what was happening.
Noor clutched her chest again, her body convulsing with a spasm of pain. Zeyla could only watch, helpless, as the woman she had admired just moments ago seemed to crumble before her eyes. Noor closed her eyes.
"The spring... It healed my..., but..." Noor gasped, her voice barely a whisper. "This body... it can't hold anymore. It's failing, Zeyla. it... it's... too late."
Zeyla's heart pounded in her chest as she knelt there, struggling to process Noor's words.
Zeyla grabbed her arm, her grip tight, desperate. "No, you can't say that. You've endured ..no .. noo.. you can't just—"
Noor shook her head, her lips curling into a bitter smile. "I've kept this secret for too long. Zeyla... You mustn't speak of this."
From the shadows, a figure emerged, cloaked in darkness. His face hidden beneath the brim of his hat, but his eyes—ancient, knowing—glowed like dying embers.
"Madam Noor," he rasped, voice like crumbling stone. "Your secret is no longer yours."
Zeyla stepped forward, protective, yet the air around her chilled. Noor's breath faltered, eyes flicking toward him with a recognition that shook the ground beneath them.
"Who are you?" Zeyla demanded, voice sharp, but her heart beat a frantic rhythm.
The man tilted his head, smile cruel, old. "The one you cannot escape. Time... and destiny... have finally caught up."
Noor shuddered, her strength gone, body sinking. Zeyla's mind raced, but all she felt was the weight of the man's presence.
"You've run," he whispered, voice as old as death itself. "But now... it's over."
Zeyla's breath caught. "Who are you?" she demanded again, but the answer was already in the air. The man's grin deepened, almost like a dying star flickering out.
"I am the end," he said, his voice fading into the void.
The man's grin widened. "I am the one who's come to collect."
With those final words, he disappeared as quickly as he had come, leaving Zeyla and Noor alone.