Amara's POV:
As I entered the home, I saw Jia sitting on the couch, reading her case studies. Even if I tried to avoid her today or tomorrow, she will know I fractured my hand, so it's better to be prepared for her questions. She looked up, sensing my presence.
Her eyes softened the moment they landed on my sling. "Ama… what happened to your hand?" she asked, her voice full of concern.
I forced a small smile, trying to lie properly. "I fell on the streets."
Jia didn't move, her gaze steady and worried. "Ama… don't lie to me. I can tell something's wrong. Let me see."
I can't tell her what little adventure I am having right now. "Seriously, it's nothing," I admitted, wincing slightly.
Her face paled for a fraction of a second, then she quickly moved to sit beside me. "Fracture? Ama, were you walking or flying?"
"I… I am sorry," I murmured, trying to brush it off, but Jia reached over, gently holding my injured hand in her good one.
"Why are you hurting yourself?" she said softly, concern etched in every line of her face. "Let me help. Please. I'm not just your sister—I care about you. I can't sit back and watch you get hurt."
I swallowed hard, the warmth in her voice grounding me. "Thanks, Jia… I just… I need to figure this out."
She squeezed my hand gently. "I know, Ama. But you don't have to do it all alone. I know this heartbreak was rough for you, but life doesn't end here."
I nodded, feeling the weight of both my mission and her care. "I know, and I promise, I am doing it because of heartbreak, I... I just need to find out something," I whispered, even though I knew the path ahead wouldn't be easy.
Today's accident had made one thing painfully clear: no matter how sharp I thought I was, I couldn't fight everything alone. I wasn't built to go against men twice my size. But I couldn't drag Jia into this—it was my mess. My truth to uncover.
I spent the whole week grounded—Jia's words, not mine—as she threatened to tattle to Mom and Dad if I so much as peeked outside.
"Can I step out today?" I asked innocently over breakfast, like a kid pleading for recess.
Her brows shot up. "Why? Where do you want to go? I'll take you."
"Umm… to the hospital. It's been a week. I need to get my hand checked again," I explained, hoping she wouldn't insist on tagging along.
"Perfect," she said, eyes lighting up far too quickly. "That way I get a chance to meet Adrian. I'll come with you after work."
Great. Investigation—blocked.
"It'll be a hassle," I tried again. "You'll have to come home, pick me up, then go to the hospital. You'll be exhausted."
"Nope," Jia said, grinning. "Come to my office instead. We'll head to the hospital from there."
"I don't want to come to your office. And you know why." I gave her a faint smile.
She tilted her head, instantly catching my meaning. "You don't have to worry. He's buried in paperwork these days—probably landed a new big case. He won't even look up. Believe me."
I reluctantly agreed, though every nerve in me screamed Don't.Once Jia left for the office, the apartment felt too quiet—perfect for my now-daily ritual.
Laptop open. Curtains drawn. Heart pounding. My fractured wrist throbbed as if warning me, but the decision was already made.No more screens. No more waiting. This wasn't just a visit.If Seraphine knew I was coming—or if someone else did—this could end very badly.
With that, I rested, ate, and kept digging through every lead until the clock slid past 4:30 p.m. I shut the laptop and pulled on my hoodie, the decision solid in my chest.
Stepping out of the cab, I froze at the sight of the building. A sudden pinch bloomed behind my ribs.The last time I'd stood here was on his birthday—when I showed up unannounced, hiding a small cake behind my back.He'd been more delighted than surprised, eyes bright with that quiet joy I used to know by heart.
The memory crept up like a soft tide, and before I realised it, I was smiling at ghosts.
But not anymore, today I am standing in front of this building as a complete stranger. I took a deep breath and composed myself before I started crying.
Vihaan's POV:
I was immersed in the files when I randomly saw a girl standing outside the office. My heart skipped a beat when she became completely visible.
My breath stalled.Ama.
For a second, I just stood there, half-hidden by the blinds, caught between the urge to run down and the promise I'd made to stay away.The sling around her arm punched the air from my chest.
I pushed the intercom. "Switch camera two to the entrance," I told security, voice steadier than I felt.The screen sharpened—her face tilted up at the building, unreadable, stubborn as ever.
Before I could talk myself out of it, I was in the elevator.
Outside, the late light cut a sharp outline around her.She turned when the doors hissed open.
"Ama."Her name left me before I could stop it.
She stiffened. "Vihaan."
My eyes caught on the white plaster of her wrist."What happened?" The question came out rougher than I intended.
"It's nothing," she said, chin lifting.
"That's not nothing."I stepped closer, keeping my voice low. "Tell me."
"I don't owe you explanations."The words were quiet but hit like a slap.
I exhaled, forcing myself back a step. "You're hurt."
"I can manage."
Silence stretched.All the things I wanted to say—I shouldn't have let you go, I'm still trying to keep you safe—and I promise I'll make up to you.
Finally, I said, "Please… be careful."It was the only truth I could risk.
Her gaze flickered, unreadable, then she turned away. Jia stepped out of the office and was scanning us like searching for something between us. I left without saying anything further.
Jia's POV:
When I stepped outside, I stopped short.Vihaan was standing right in front of Ama, his posture taut, eyes fixed on her as if the rest of the world had blurred away.
For a heartbeat, I just watched them.Of course, he looked like that—like someone who'd lost something he didn't know how to find again. And that something was my sister.
A few weeks ago, he'd told Ama he'd moved on, even tossed out the word engaged like it meant nothing. Yet every time I glimpse him in the office, he's either buried in paperwork or missing entirely, the easy grin he used to wear long gone.
Vihaan never comes out to greet clients, not even the big ones—he always sends his secretary.But today he was out here, as if drawn by a magnet he couldn't fight, scanning Ama with a look that said he might lose her all over again if he so much as blinked.
I crossed my arms, half-annoyed, half-curious.Whatever game he thought he was playing, it was clear to me: neither of them was over anything.
Enough of this silent drama.
I strode forward, letting my voice slice the quiet. "If you two are finished staring like a tragic movie poster, maybe we can actually go to the hospital? Some of us have schedules, you know."
Both of them startled a little—Ama's eyes flicked to me with relief, Vihaan's jaw tightening like I'd yanked him out of a dream.
Good. Somebody had to.
"Wow," I added, raising an eyebrow at him. "Since when did Mr. Always-Too-Busy step outside for fresh air? Did the clouds part, or did someone tell you it's safe to show your face?"
He didn't answer, only exhaled slowly, but I caught that micro-flinch at my teasing.
Ama snorted quietly beside me, hiding a smile behind her sling.
I grinned back at her. "See? Someone's still paying attention—even if he refuses to admit it."