"Raha?"
One word.
Just one.
But it stopped everything.
Raha and Rohan both turned.
Subin stood in the doorway.
Eyes wet. Chest heaving. Face carrying the weight of every hour he had spent on that plane thinking about this moment.
"Subin?" Rohan's voice came out hollow with surprise.
Subin didn't look at him.
He looked at Raha.
And something in his face just — broke.
Raha didn't think.
She just ran.
She crashed into him and held on — both arms, everything she had — crying into his shoulder like she had been saving it all up for exactly this moment.
Subin caught her.
He didn't speak.
He just held her.
And cried with her.
Rohan sat back.
Watched them.
Said nothing.
After a long moment, Subin pulled back.
Wiped his face.
And looked at Rohan.
The warmth — gone.
"What are you doing here?"
Silence.
"How many times," Subin said, his voice dropping low, "have I told you to stay away from her?"
He crossed the room in three steps and grabbed his collar.
Raha had already left.
She slipped out quietly — past Shawn, past Mr. Lee, past the police officers standing in the corridor.
Shawn moved toward her. "Raha—"
She didn't stop.
She didn't sign anything.
She just walked.
Straight to the door she had been dreading since the moment she opened her eyes.
White cloth.
A shape beneath it.
Raha stood at the foot of the bed.
Her hands were shaking.
Her whole body was shaking.
She reached out — slowly, slowly — and pulled the cloth back.
Her mother's face.
Still.
Peaceful.
Wrong.
Something tore open inside Raha's chest.
She didn't fall to the floor.
She fell onto her mother — arms wrapping around her, face pressed close, crying the way you cry when you have no voice and no words and nothing left but the sound of grief trying to find a way out of a body that has nowhere left to put it.
Silent.
Violent.
Complete.
Shawn stood in the doorway behind her.
He didn't go in.
He couldn't.
He just stood there — tears falling freely down his face — watching the girl he loved say goodbye to the only person she had left.
Subin appeared.
One look at Raha.
One second of stillness.
Then he turned and walked straight to the police officers.
"Meena Lee's suicide," he said, voice completely level, "was caused by Rohan Watson, Bella Watson, Grace Ray, and Rabina Manoban."
The corridor went cold.
Rohan froze.
Behind him — Mr. Lee turned.
And smiled.
Slowly.
Deeply.
Wrong.
Rohan stared at that smile.
When did his grief disappear?
"Raha's accident," Subin continued, eyes fixed on Rohan, "was also their doing."
The officers exchanged glances. "Mr. Rohan Watson? Do you have proof?"
Subin smiled. Quiet. Certain.
"There's a video. Isn't there, Rohan?"
"I'm not responsible." Rohan's voice was flat. "For any of it."
"Not responsible?" Subin didn't raise his voice. He didn't need to. "Meena is dead. You knew. And you did nothing. That is called responsibility, Rohan."
An officer stepped forward and took Rohan's arm.
Rohan pulled against it.
Mr. Lee leaned close — so close only Rohan could hear.
"Caught," he whispered. "Aren't you?"
Rohan turned to look at him.
And Mr. Lee smiled again — wide, satisfied, completely emptied of every drop of grief that had lived in his face for months.
Something is wrong with him.
Something has always been wrong with him.
"Raha's mother's death," Subin said, "I know you're responsible. I just can't prove it. Yet."
"SHUT UP." Rohan's voice broke through the corridor like a crack of thunder. "If you don't know the truth — don't open your mouth. Don't ruin someone's life with words you can't back up—"
The officers pulled him away.
Rohan looked back once.
At the hospital.
At the door.
At the girl behind it who didn't know he was gone.
Mr. Lee turned to Subin.
"Thank you."
Subin didn't respond. He walked away.
Mr. Lee watched him go.
And whispered — soft, cold, to himself —
"Subin Willis."
"Just wait and watch."
Shawn was on his knees beside Raha trying — uselessly, desperately — to calm her down.
Subin stepped in.
Moved Shawn aside without a word.
Took Raha's hand.
Shawn looked up. His jaw tightened.
"Raha," Subin said gently. "Stop. Crying won't bring her back."
She crumpled against him instead.
All of her. Everything.
Subin held her like she was something he had almost lost and was never letting go of again.
"No one will hurt you anymore," he said quietly into her hair. "I promise. No one."
Shawn stood.
Watched them.
Felt something in his chest quietly come apart.
"Rohan is in custody," Subin said, still not looking at Shawn. "His whole family will follow."
"What—"
"I told the police."
Shawn said nothing.
The doctor came in.
Raha had gone completely limp in Subin's arms.
Unconscious.
Her body finally giving up what her mind had been refusing to.
"Everyone out," the doctor said firmly. "One family member only."
They took her mother away.
They carried Raha back to her room.
Shawn and Subin sat on the bench outside.
Silence between them like a wall.
Neither looking at the other.
"What happens to Raha now?" Shawn said finally. His voice was barely there.
"She stays with me," Subin said. Immediately. No hesitation.
Shawn turned slowly. "Why would she stay with you?"
Subin looked at him.
"Because I love her."
Three words.
Shawn went completely still.
"It's late," Subin said. "Go home."
Something snapped.
"Shut the hell up."
Subin looked at him calmly. "Watch your mouth."
"You love her." Shawn's voice shook with it. "You love her? Where were you when she needed you? When Meena died — you left. You packed up and flew to Paris and left Raha here alone. And now you walk back in and say the word love like it means something?"
"What's between me and Raha," Subin said quietly, "is none of your business."
"It's everything to do with me."
"You don't deserve her," Shawn said.
Something shifted in Subin's eyes.
He shoved Shawn back.
Grabbed his collar.
"You don't know me. What I did to Rohan — I wouldn't think twice about doing to you."
Shawn hit him.
Hard.
Subin went down.
Came back up.
"You think Rohan stays in jail?" Shawn's chest was heaving. "What proof did you give them? And Mr. Watson — you know exactly who he is. He will never let his son rot behind bars."
"Whose side are you on?" Subin's voice went ice cold. "A criminal's?"
"Do you even know who I am?"
They went for each other — properly, violently, hospital corridor be damned —
Staff came running from both directions —
Voices overlapping, hands pulling, chaos —
And then —
One voice.
Sharp.
Commanding.
Cutting through every sound in that corridor like a blade.
"Mr. Dela Cruz."
Everything stopped.
Every head turned.
Shawn turned last.
His face went white.
"Dad?"