Squad came back to apartment.
The moment it became clear Ling wasn't coming back, everything shifted—from teasing, from celebration, from confusion—into something sharper and more serious.
Phones came out. Jackets went on. Voices dropped.
"She's not here," Jian said flatly, already dialing again.
Rowen was at the balcony, scanning the city like Ling might appear between buildings. "Her car isn't in the basement either."
Rina's expression had gone tight. Too tight. She knew Ling's patterns better than most—and this didn't fit any of them. "She doesn't disappear without a reason," she said. "And when she does… it's bad."
They split up without needing to discuss it.
Some checked the usual places—private rooms, quiet rooftops, closed gyms, empty training grounds. Others drove the main roads, then the side streets, then the ones Ling only used when she didn't want to be seen.
Rhea stayed behind at first, pacing the apartment, phone glued to her hand.
No reply.
No read receipt.
Nothing.
Her chest felt tight, like something was pressing inward with every second that passed.
"She wouldn't just turn everything off," Rhea said, more to herself than anyone else. "She hates being unreachable."
Zifa watched her carefully. "Unless she doesn't want to be found."
That made Rhea stop.
The city search widened.
Contacts were called—drivers, security heads, people who usually knew where Ling went even when she didn't say it out loud. Cameras were checked where they could be checked.
Nothing.
No trace of the Rolls-Royce after a certain point.
No sightings.
No transactions.
No signals.
It was like Ling Kwong had folded herself out of the city.
"This doesn't make sense," Jian muttered in one of the cars, frustration bleeding through his controlled tone. "She doesn't vanish. She dominates space."
Rina clenched her jaw. "Unless she doesn't want anyone near her."
That silence settled heavily over everyone.
Back at the apartment, Rhea finally sank onto the edge of the couch, decorations glowing mockingly around her. The cake sat untouched, perfect, ridiculous.
"She planned this," Rhea whispered, tears streaking down freely now. "She planned everything. She wouldn't leave it unless she thought—"
Unless she thought she had already lost.
Zifa sat beside her. "Ling doesn't retreat because she's angry," she said quietly. "She retreats when she thinks she's the problem."
Rhea covered her mouth with her hand, a soft, broken sound escaping her. Guilt crashed in fully now, heavy and merciless.
"I should've answered," she said. "I should've left earlier. I should've pulled away immediately. I should've—"
Regret stacked on regret until it was hard to breathe.
Minutes passed. Then more.
One by one, calls came back negative.
"No sign."
"Nothing on cameras."
"Car last seen near the coast—then nothing."
Rhea's head snapped up. "Coast?"
Rina stiffened. "Which side?"
"East," came the reply. "After that… blank."
The room went quiet.
The sea.
Zifa's expression changed instantly. "That's not good."
Rhea stood up so fast the couch shifted. "Take me there."
"Rhea—" Rina started.
"Now," Rhea said, voice shaking but firm. "Please."
No one argued after that.
The squad regrouped, engines starting again, urgency replacing exhaustion. The city lights blurred past once more, but this time Rhea watched them with dread instead of anger.
She replayed everything.
The café.
The shirt.
The silence.
The way Ling had walked away without a word.
"She thinks I chose him," Rhea whispered hoarsely. "She thinks I didn't care."
Zifa glanced at her. "Then you better find her before she convinces herself of it completely."
They reached the coastal road not long after.
Cars slowed. Headlights swept across sand, rocks, empty stretches of shore.
Rhea's heart pounded painfully now, fear crawling up her spine.
For the first time, the reality hit her fully:
Ling wasn't just missing.
Ling was somewhere alone—
hurting, breaking, laughing at herself in that quiet, dangerous way she did when she thought she had nothing left to protect.
And for all the power, money, control, and people searching—
The city had no idea how to find a woman who had chosen to disappear with her grief.
Rhea clenched her fists, tears falling freely again.
"Please," she whispered into the night. "Just let us find her."
Because somewhere beyond the reach of headlights and calls, Ling Kwong was learning how final silence could feel—
And the longer it took to find her, the more terrifying the truth became:
This wasn't about pride anymore.
This was about whether love would reach her before she decided it wasn't worth holding onto.
They found the car first.
Parked wrong. Crooked. Careless in a way that didn't belong to Ling Kwong.
Rhea's breath hitched the moment the headlights swept over it.
"Stop," she said sharply.
The car barely came to a halt before she was out, shoes hitting sand, heart pounding so loud it drowned the waves. Cold wind bit into her skin but she didn't feel it. Her eyes were already scanning, frantic, desperate.
Then she saw them.
The blazer.
Thrown aside like it meant nothing.
Dark fabric half-buried in sand, ruined—its sharp lines broken, its perfection gone. And beside it, a pair of shoes, discarded without care.
Rhea's chest constricted painfully.
"That blazer…" Zifa whispered behind her.
Rhea didn't answer.
She knew.
She ran past them, feet sinking into the sand, legs trembling as she moved closer to the shoreline. The sound of the sea grew louder, heavier, and then—
Ling.
She was sitting there.
Alone.
Shoes off.
Feet submerged in the water.
Shoulders slumped forward slightly, hair loose, damp at the ends from sea spray.
She looked smaller like this. Stripped of structure. Of armor.
Tears slid down her face continuously, silently, like they had been for a long time. No wiping. No reaction. Just… falling.
Her feet were still.
Too still.
The water rolled over them again and again, but Ling didn't flinch. The skin had gone pale, almost bluish from the cold, numb long past pain.
Rhea stopped a few steps away.
"Ling…" Her voice cracked immediately.
No response.
Not a glance.
Not a blink.
Ling stared straight ahead at the dark horizon, eyes empty in a way Rhea had never seen before. Not angry. Not jealous. Not violent.
Gone.
Rhea's throat closed painfully. She took another step, then another, until she was standing right beside her.
Still nothing.
"She's freezing," Rina said urgently from behind. "Ling—Ling, look at me."
Ling didn't.
Rhea slowly lowered herself into the sand in front of her, knees sinking, ignoring the cold biting through her jeans. She reached out with shaking hands and gently cupped Ling's face.
Her skin was cold.
Too cold.
"Ling," Rhea said again, softer now, desperate. "Look at me. Please."
Ling's eyes flickered—just barely—but there was no focus in them. Tears continued to fall, sliding past Rhea's thumbs.
"She's dissociating," Zifa said quietly, fear creeping into her voice. "She's not here."
Rhea's own tears spilled freely now.
"I'm here," Rhea whispered, forehead pressing gently against Ling's. "I came. I'm right here."
Ling didn't respond.
No anger.
No bitterness.
No relief.
Just that hollow stillness.