The moment Dominic returned, I could tell something was wrong.
His steps were slow. His shoulders stiff. His expression unreadable, but his eyes—those betrayed everything. Confusion. Sadness. And something I couldn't quite place. Regret, maybe?
I straightened in the hospital bed as he walked in and sat by my side. I opened my mouth to ask, but he beat me to it.
"Jason's dead."
The words hit like a truck.
I blinked, unsure if I'd heard right. "What…?"
"He tried to escape when the police cornered them," Dominic said quietly, rubbing his hand over his jaw. "He took Lila as a hostage. One of the officers panicked and fired. He was hit… and didn't make it."
My heart thudded, my mind slow to catch up. Jason was dead. The man who once promised me forever and then shattered me like glass. The same man who helped orchestrate my kidnapping. Gone.
I didn't know what to feel. Sadness didn't come. Regret didn't either. But something loosened in my chest—a small, almost imperceptible sigh of relief. The kind that came when a nightmare finally ended.
"And Lila?" I asked.
"She's in custody. Alive. Denying everything, of course. Blames Jason. Said she was forced. Said Claire attacked her first."
My stomach turned. "She what?"
"She's lying, Amira," he said gently. "We have footage, and—her bracelet. It was found on Claire. She's cornered, but still pretending."
I shook my head slowly. Of course she was. Even now, with nowhere to run, Lila couldn't tell the truth.
Dominic rested his hand on mine. "The police will come by later today to take your statement. You don't have to say anything right away. But it will help the case."
I nodded, my throat tight. "I'll talk. It's the least I can do."
Days passed slowly after that.
I gave my statement. I rested. I watched Dominic try to be strong, even when he wasn't. And when the doctor finally said I could be discharged, I didn't feel ready to leave.
There was one thing left to do.
I looked up at Dominic as he helped me gather my things. "Before we go… can I see her?"
He didn't need to ask who.
"Of course."
Claire looked peaceful. Too peaceful.
The machines beside her hummed steadily. Her chest rose and fell in slow rhythm. Her face was pale, lips dry, hair pulled back in a way that made her look older somehow.
I pulled a chair close and sat beside her.
"Hey," I said softly, reaching for her hand.
It felt warm. Still alive. Still here.
"I don't know if you can hear me, Claire. But I'm okay. I promise I'm okay now. You—you saved me. You didn't have to. But you did."
My throat tightened. I blinked back the tears that threatened to rise.
"Dominic's holding up," I continued. "Barely. But he's trying. I think he misses you more than he'll admit. He's… really something. Even when I gave up on him, he didn't give up on me. I hope—when you wake up—you'll see that too."
I leaned closer and pressed a soft kiss to her hand. "Come back to us, okay?"
I lingered for a few more minutes. Then Dominic reappeared at the door, silent, watching. I stood, gave Claire one last look, and whispered, "See you soon."
The silence in the car was almost deafening as Dominic drove us home.
Neither of us spoke much after visiting Claire. We didn't need to. Her presence lingered in our thoughts, soft and heavy like a weighted blanket. For now, that was enough.
When we got home, I took a warm shower and curled into the sheets while Dominic stepped back out. He said he needed to visit the precinct.
What he really meant: he was going to see Lila.
Lila.
Even just the thought of her name sent a strange twist through my gut. She'd been my best friend once. The one who knew my childhood crushes, my deepest insecurities, the foods I loved and the movies that made me cry. Now she was sitting behind bars, possibly facing years in prison for nearly killing me—and for trying to destroy Dominic's mother.
Would I ever understand why?
Dominic sat across from Lila in the sterile, grey-walled interrogation room.
She looked different—makeup-less, pale, thinner than she'd been weeks ago. Her usually perfect hair was tucked behind her ears in a limp ponytail. There was a cold look in her eyes, but behind that… fear.
Real fear.
"Dominic," she said, almost breathlessly. "I—I didn't know you'd come. I swear, I didn't mean for any of this to happen."
Dominic didn't flinch. "Didn't mean for what, Lila? For me to lose my mother? For Amira to be beaten and kidnapped?"
"I didn't know Jason was going to go that far," she said quickly. "He forced me to help him. I—I was scared. You know how he could be."
"Cut the act," Dominic said. "There are cameras, Lila. Your bracelet was found with my mother. You think I'd believe this was all him?"
"He made me do it!" she screamed suddenly, slamming her hands on the metal table. "Jason said if I didn't help, he'd ruin me. He said I owed him! He—he used me, Dominic! I didn't want to hurt anyone!"
"You pushed my mother."
Lila's eyes flickered. For a moment, just a breath, her composure cracked.
Then she shook her head violently. "She attacked me first! She came at me like some crazy old woman. I just pushed her back. She fell—I didn't mean to hurt her."
Dominic leaned forward slowly. His voice dropped. "She's in a coma."
Lila swallowed. Her eyes darted to the door.
"You didn't check if she was breathing. You didn't call for help. You left her there. You ran."
"That's not what happened—" she started, but the door opened, and a uniformed officer stepped in with a small device in hand.
"I believe you should see this," he said simply, setting a screen in front of her.
They played the footage.
The hospital hallway. Claire confronting Lila. No attack—just words. Lila pushing her. Claire hitting the floor with a sickening crack. And then… Lila stood there, expression cold.
Lila's face turned white. Her lips parted.
She didn't speak.
"You're done lying, Lila," Dominic said after a long silence. "The trial is coming. If you had any decency left, you'd confess."
"I won't go to prison for something Jason made me do," she whispered.
Dominic stood slowly. "You already are."
And with that, he left her behind.
He came home that night quieter than usual.
We sat on the balcony together, both of us staring out at the night sky without speaking. The air smelled like rain, even though the sky was clear.
"She's still denying it?" I finally asked.
He nodded. "Even with the evidence. She tried to twist it all on Jason."
I sighed and leaned my head against his shoulder. "Will I have to see her again?"
"There's a hearing in two days. I asked if you wanted to come."
I paused. "And I said no."
He nodded. "Still your choice. I'll support whatever you decide."
I closed my eyes.
Right now, I couldn't imagine facing Lila. I wasn't ready to stare down the woman who betrayed me. I still wasn't sure if it would bring me closure—or reopen wounds I had barely started to heal.
Time Skip — 6 Months Later
The seasons changed quietly.
Jason had been dead for half a year. His name rarely came up anymore. Dominic had said the official report called it a "clean shot in a high-pressure scenario." Case closed. No one seemed to mourn him. Not even Lila.
Claire had woken up, slowly and miraculously, two months after the incident. Her recovery was difficult, but she was walking short distances now with a cane. She'd moved in with Dominic while she healed. Her laugh was softer, her presence more fragile—but her wit, her warmth, and her spirit were all still there.
She called me "my girl" every time she saw me.
And now, six months later, Lila's trial was about to begin.
I wasn't going to attend.
But that morning, something changed.
As I stood before the mirror, brushing my hair, I saw a version of myself I didn't recognize. Not because I looked different—but because I didn't feel afraid.
I thought of the girl who once cried herself to sleep over betrayal. The girl who blamed herself for everything that happened. And then I thought of Claire. Still recovering. Still smiling.
I wanted to be brave like her.
"Dominic?" I called softly, stepping into the living room where he was adjusting his tie.
He looked up. "Yeah?"
"I want to go to the trial."
He blinked. "Are you sure?"
I nodded. "I'm ready."
He studied me for a moment, then smiled. "Alright then. Let's go."
The courtroom buzzed with quiet whispers as we entered.
Reporters sat toward the back, notepads ready, and the sharp scent of paper and polished wood filled the air. I sat beside Dominic near the front. My palms were damp, but I held my head high.
Then, they brought her in.
Lila.
She looked… different.
Her face was pale, her skin nearly translucent under the harsh courtroom lights. Her once-voluminous hair was dull, scraped back into a low ponytail. She looked thinner. Fragile even. But her eyes—those eyes were sharp, defiant.
She saw me and froze.
I held her gaze.
There was no hatred in me, no more anger. Just distance. A canyon carved by betrayal.
The trial began swiftly. The judge, an older woman with a firm voice, didn't waste time. "This court is now in session for the trial of Miss Lila Smiths, charged with attempted murder, kidnapping, and obstruction of justice."
Lila's lawyer stood to plead, "Not guilty."
I didn't flinch.
They presented the evidence first—video footage of the hallway, the bracelet with her initials found at the scene, and text messages between her and Jason recovered from his phone records.
Each piece was like a nail in a coffin.
The jury watched silently. Some winced at the footage. Others shook their heads.
"She left her there," one woman whispered to another. "Monstrous."
Then came the witness call.
The bailiff announced, "The prosecution calls Amira Williams to the stand."
I took a deep breath, stood up, and walked toward the witness chair.
Dominic gave me a reassuring nod.
Once sworn in, I recounted everything. My voice trembled at first, but the more I spoke, the steadier I became.
How they'd lured me out. The cold warehouse. The pain. The fear. The betrayal. How Jason had seemed out of control. How Lila had just… watched.
"She didn't help me," I said quietly. "She didn't even flinch when I begged her to let me go."
Lila's face hardened as I spoke. But I didn't look away.
When I was dismissed from the stand, I returned to my seat beside Dominic.
Then came the defense's turn.
"Do you plead guilty or not guilty?" the judge asked Lila again.
"Not guilty!" she screamed, standing up so fast the guards stepped forward. "I didn't do anything—it was her! She's framing me!"
She pointed at me with wild eyes, unhinged.
"She always wanted everything! I gave her friendship and she stabbed me in the back! I didn't do anything!"
The judge slammed the gavel down. "Silence!"
The courtroom murmured in disgust. The jury looked visibly shaken.
That should've been the end of it.
But then the prosecutor rose again. "Your Honour, we'd like to call a special witness."
The defense lawyer jumped up. "Objection! This witness was not listed—"
The judge cut in. "Overruled. Proceed."
The doors opened slowly.
And in rolled Claire Vale, dressed in a soft peach blouse and a floral skirt, her silver hair neatly brushed, a quiet dignity in her every movement.
Gasps filled the room.
Lila's mouth fell open.
She looked like she'd seen a ghost.
Claire was wheeled to the stand. Her hands trembled slightly as she was sworn in. But her voice? Firm. Steady. Strong.
She met Lila's wide, horrified eyes with a gaze of calm steel.
"I remember everything," Claire said. "I asked her what she was doing. I told her to stop. And she looked me in the eye… and pushed me."
A pin could've dropped in the courtroom.
"She left me on that floor," Claire continued. "Didn't call for help. Didn't even hesitate."
Claire's eyes shimmered but she didn't cry.
"I may be old," she said softly, "but I am not blind. That girl meant to hurt me. And she would've let me die."
Someone in the back whispered, "Wicked…"
The room was no longer on Lila's side. They never had been.
As Claire was wheeled back out, I rushed to her.
She gave me a soft smile. "You look beautiful, my girl."
Tears pricked my eyes. "You were amazing."
She patted my hand. "So were you."
Four hours passed while the jury deliberated.
We waited together—Dominic, Claire, and I—outside in a quiet room. Claire rested in a soft chair, sipping water. Dominic paced. I sat still, hands folded, my heart quiet.
When the verdict came in, we returned to the courtroom.
The judge looked at Lila one last time. "You have been found guilty on all charges."
Lila didn't move.
Her eyes darted between me, Dominic, and Claire. Then she snapped. She lunged across the room with a scream.
"She RUINED everything!"
She came straight for me—but Dominic stepped between us, catching her mid-lunge. The guards yanked her back, forcing her down.
"Let me go!" she shrieked, thrashing. "You think this is over?! You'll regret this!"
But her voice faded behind slamming doors as she was dragged away.
"Miss Lila Smiths," the judge said with finality, "You are hereby sentenced to 25 years in prison without parole."
The courtroom was silent.
I didn't cheer.
I didn't smile.
But for the first time in months, I felt free.
Outside the courtroom, Claire reached for my hand.
"You did good, sweetheart," she said gently. "You didn't let the darkness change you."
I hugged her tightly. "Thank you… for showing up. For everything."
Dominic wrapped an arm around both of us. "Let's go home."