My head kept replaying their words—
over and over again,
like a broken radio.
So different from the soft melody that filled the restaurant.
I didn't want to disappoint them.
So I did what they wanted.
And somewhere along the way…
I forgot about my own happiness.
Then—
a realization hit me.
One I had never allowed myself to face before.
I broke my promise.
A promise I made to my parents.
A promise now buried under years of dust.
One whispered between bedtime stories…
and sealed with a gentle goodnight kiss.
I could almost feel it—
their warmth.
My mother's soft hand brushing over my hair.
Her eyes… so gentle.
Her voice, even gentler.
"Promise us, my love… to be an undying star."
My father chuckled, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.
"Oh, come on," he said lightly. "This stubborn child would never give up."
A pause.
"I mean, look at that cheeky gleam in her eyes."
I let out a small, innocent laugh.
"She's going to be a great detective," he added. "Maybe even like Sherlock Holmes."
I blushed, warmth blooming in my chest.
Pride.
Happiness.
Something I hadn't felt in so long.
My mother smiled softly.
"She'll be even better," she said.
A pause.
"After all… she's our star."
And somewhere along the way… I forgot how to shine.
Now…
I wasn't even sure if I still deserved to be their star.
Then—
his voice pulled me back.
"Lillian…?"
A pause.
"I didn't take you for the delusional type."
Adel.
The sarcasm was there, as always.
But beneath it—
something else.
Something almost… concerned.
I blinked, my vision clearing.
Charles was staring at me too—his expression far more obvious.
Worried.
And… guilty.
As if he thought he was the reason for the tears I hadn't even realized had fallen.
Adel reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief, handing it to me without another word.
It was soft.
Too soft.
Like the blankets my parents used to tuck me in with.
Warm.
Familiar.
Dangerous.
I wiped my tears, my voice unsteady.
"Sorry… for the disturbance."
I didn't know who I was apologizing to.
Him.
Charles.
Or myself.
My fingers tightened around the handkerchief.
"I just… zoned out."
A quiet, broken chuckle slipped past my lips—fragile, laced with something heavier.
"I'll return it," I added softly. "Once I clean it."
A pause.
"I promise."
This time—
I was careful with that word.
As if I couldn't afford to break another one.
I didn't know why… but taking it felt like holding onto something I shouldn't.
I took a shaky breath and slipped the handkerchief into my purse, not daring to meet either of their eyes.
Then I noticed my agenda being placed gently on the table.
I looked up.
Of course… it was Charles.
He mouthed a quiet "sorry", his expression soft—almost like a guilty puppy.
I gave him a tired but reassuring smile.
It wasn't his fault.
If anything… this moment forced me to face something I had been avoiding for far too long.
And maybe… I needed that.
I reached for the agenda and placed it back into my bag, my fingers lingering on the cover for a second longer than necessary.
Then I exhaled slowly.
Composing myself.
Piece by piece.
I was grateful they didn't push me… didn't question me.
They simply gave me space.
Space to gather the fragments of a self I wasn't even sure I recognized anymore.
Adel tried to ease the mood—and somehow… he succeeded.
"What do you think about what happened to the woman over there?"
He glanced toward the girl from earlier.
I followed his gaze.
Then I looked back at him.
His smile… wasn't as irritating as before.
It was different now—quieter. More confident.
The warm, cozy lights softened his features, making him seem almost… safe.
Adel was brave.
Unlike me.
What would he have done… if he were in my place?
That thought lingered as I looked at him helplessly, offering a tired smile, my brows knitting together.
"Oh my…"
"Don't give me that look," he said, rolling his eyes.
"Weren't you afraid?" I cut in.
He looked at me, surprised by the sharpness in my voice, but I continued anyway—
"What if he attacked you? You didn't have solid evidence of abuse. And you know the police won't take a trembling woman as proof. You could've been sued for assault—"
The words tumbled out, fast, breathless.
Before I could continue, he raised a finger and pressed it lightly against my lips.
Silencing me.
"Take a breath, my dear," he sighed, resting his head slightly against his injured knuckles.
Then his voice shifted—calm, focused.
"What did you see when they walked in? In detail."
I paused, forcing myself to think.
"I saw… a muscular man," I began slowly, "being overly controlling over that miserable girl. He was rude to the staff… and she—she looked terrified. It was horrible. It was—"
He interrupted, finishing it for me.
"—wrong. Right?"
I swallowed.
"…Right."
"And what do we, as seekers of justice, do when we see something wrong?"
I looked at him, silent.
He raised his hand toward me, palm open—almost like he was offering something sacred.
"To apply the word of law."
"Word of law…" I whispered to myself.
He was right.
He did the right thing.
…didn't he?
So why… am I doubting him?
Charles glanced between the two of us, his brows furrowed slightly, as if he were analyzing something beneath the surface. Then he let out a quiet huff, raising an eyebrow with a faint chuckle.
Right then, the food finally arrived.
A waiter approached us with a warm, practiced smile.
"Good evening, Mr. Adel—and his companions."
It was clear he recognized him.
Adel gestured casually, guiding him where to place each dish in front of us.
The waiter straightened.
"The restaurant would like to offer dessert on our behalf, as a token of gratitude for Mr. Adel's heroic act. Thank you."
"There's no need," Adel replied casually.
As if being a hero… was nothing out of the ordinary.As if it wasn't something worth praise.
I looked down at my plate.
The burrito and Italian chicken looked appetizing—really, they did.
But Adel's steak… and Charles's tacos?
They were on another level.
Maybe I should have listened to him.
Still, the first bite melted in my mouth, rich and savory, everything blending perfectly.For a moment… everything felt right.
Too right.
"We'll meet at my office tomorrow. 4 PM."
His voice cut through the warmth so suddenly it almost startled me.
"Is that alright with you? I checked with your assistant—he said you'd be available."
He paused briefly, then added,
"I believe his name was Steve, right?"