Zayan stood by the hospital window, arms crossed, watching the lights of the city shimmer in the distance. Behind him, Nora sat silently at Asher's bedside, her fingers lightly wrapped around the boy's hand, refusing to let go.
She hadn't said a word in hours.
"I should've known," she finally whispered. "He was in pain… and I didn't even see it."
Zayan turned to face her. "You were holding everything else together. You forgot you were allowed to fall apart too."
Nora didn't look up. Her eyes stayed on Asher's pale face, the slow rise and fall of his chest. Her silence was louder than any scream.
Then the door creaked open.
Kamari stepped in, a phone clutched in her hand. "Nora," she said carefully. "This just came in. From the estate. It's her."
Zayan took the phone and played the video. Nathaira's face filled the screen—calm, twisted, confident.
"You think hiding in a hospital will save you, little maid?" she sneered. "This is just the beginning. You took what was mine. Now I'll destroy what's yours… piece by piece."
The screen went dark.
Zayan looked at Nora, expecting rage. But what he saw was far colder: focus.
Nora stood up slowly, her movements deliberate. She walked to the door, turned to Kamari, and said, "Get my things. I'm going back."
Zayan stepped in front of her. "You're still healing. He's still healing. You can't go into this alone."
She looked at him, her voice like ice and steel.
"I'm not asking permission. This isn't your fight."
"Nora—"
She cut him off.
"Let the game begin," she said quietly. "This is between me and Nathaira only. No one will interfere."
Zayan hesitated. He saw it in her eyes: the girl he once saved was gone. What stood before him now was something reborn—dangerous, fearless, and done with mercy.
He gave a small nod.
"Then finish it."
Nora didn't respond. She turned back to Asher, kissed his forehead, and whispered, "Stay strong, baby. Mama's coming back. And when I do, she'll never hurt you again."
Then she walked out of the hospital room, flames burning behind her eyes.