Aurelia's POV
I reached home safely.
But that night, there was nothing safe about my mind.
Vincent stopped at my doorway and waited until he saw the lights inside turn on.
Only then did he leave.
He didn't come inside.
He didn't ask to stay.
He simply made sure I had reached home safely, watched the light come on, and walked away.
I closed the door behind me.
And the silence hit me.
Hard.
I stood there for a few seconds, staring at nothing.
Then I slowly walked toward the couch and curled myself into it.
I didn't know what I wanted.
I didn't know what I was supposed to feel.
I had spent months searching for the truth.
I had wanted answers.
I had wanted justice.
Tonight, I had finally found them.
So why did it hurt this much?
I pulled my knees closer to myself.
At first, the tears came quietly.
One.
Then another.
I wiped them away.
More came.
I tried to breathe normally.
I couldn't.
And then my father's face came back to me.
Not the body.
Not the case.
Not the evidence.
My father.
The man who used to call my name.
The man whose voice I could still remember.
The man who had once made me believe that no matter what happened in this world, I would always have somewhere to return to.
My lips trembled.
"Dad…"
The word barely left my mouth.
And suddenly I was crying harder.
I covered my face with both hands.
For months, I had told myself that finding his murderer would finally give me peace.
I thought the truth would heal the wound.
But the truth had only opened it again.
Because the person behind it wasn't some stranger hiding in the shadows.
It was someone who had sat at our table.
Someone who had smiled at me.
Someone who had hugged me.
Someone I had called family.
I pressed my hand against my chest.
"This was supposed to be the victory."
My voice broke.
"I found them."
I looked toward the empty room.
"So why does it feel like I lost everything again?"
My eyes closed.
Memories kept coming.
My father teaching me things.
My father laughing.
My father calling me his little girl.
His hand resting over my head.
His voice telling me to be strong.
I wanted one more day.
Just one.
One ordinary day where he was alive and I didn't know what death felt like.
One day where I could walk into a room and see him sitting there.
One day where I could complain to him about something stupid.
One day where I could hear him say my name.
But there was no one to answer me anymore.
And that was the cruelest part.
I could remember him perfectly.
But I could never see him again.
I cried until my head hurt.
Then another memory surfaced.
The unknown user.
The messages.
The calls.
Truth will hurt you.
I suddenly understood.
The warnings.
The fear.
The strange insistence that I wasn't ready for the truth.
They weren't trying to frighten me.
They were warning me about this.
My hands trembled as I grabbed my phone.
I searched for the number.
Called.
Once.
Nothing.
Again.
Nothing.
I tried one more time.
A recorded message appeared.
The number was invalid.
I stared at the screen.
"So you knew."
My voice was barely audible.
"You knew what I was going to find."
But there was no answer.
There was nobody left to answer.
I slowly placed the phone beside me.
The night continued.
And eventually, there was nothing left inside me except exhaustion.
I sat there surrounded by memories.
My father.
My family.
My aunt.
Everything I had once believed about them.
And somewhere between one memory and another, I fell asleep on the couch.
Sunday Morning
The doorbell woke me.
I opened my eyes slowly.
For a moment, I didn't remember where I was.
Then everything returned.
The case.
My aunt.
My father.
I sat up and rubbed my face.
The doorbell rang again.
I stood and opened the door.
My eyes widened.
"Uncle?"
My cousin stood beside him.
"Brother?"
My uncle looked at me with a face I had never seen before.
"Aurelia…"
He stepped closer.
"I heard your aunt is in jail because of a murder case. They told me you were there too. I don't know what is happening. Please… explain it to me."
I stepped aside.
"Come inside, Uncle. I'll just wash up."
He nodded.
"Thank you. And I'm sorry for coming this early without notice."
His eyes moved over my face.
"You look exhausted. Should I make you some breakfast?"
"No, Uncle. It's fine. You both sit on the couch. I'll freshen up in two minutes."
I went upstairs.
Five minutes later, I returned and sat opposite them.
I took a breath.
"First of all, whatever I'm going to tell you, Uncle, please listen calmly."
He nodded.
"I'm calm. I'm just shocked. Tell me what's true."
I took out my phone.
Then I played the video evidence.
Neither of them spoke while it played.
When it ended, silence filled the room.
My uncle's eyes filled with tears.
"How…"
His voice broke.
"How was my brother murdered?"
He looked at me as if he was still trying to convince himself that this wasn't real.
"She—"
He couldn't finish.
"My wife…"
His voice shook.
"You're telling me that the woman I loved, the woman I gave everything to, was the one who killed my brother?"
He covered his face.
"My brother…"
The man who had raised him.
The man he had depended on.
The man he had loved.
He began crying.
My cousin sat beside him, completely silent.
Then he finally spoke.
"I might be younger than you…"
His voice trembled.
"But I'm sorry, sister."
He looked at me.
"My own mother caused this."
His eyes became wet.
"I don't even know if I'll be able to face you properly in the future knowing that my mother was behind what happened to your father."
I immediately shook my head.
"Brother."
He looked at me.
"You don't have to be ashamed of someone else's actions."
I reached for his hand.
"Yes, it might feel strange knowing that someone you love did something terrible."
I squeezed his hand.
"But that doesn't make you bad."
"You are not to be blamed."
"And I will never treat you differently."
He suddenly hugged me.
"I'll compensate you somehow."
I held him.
"I'll grow up."
His voice broke.
"And I'll make you proud to call me your brother."
I smiled through my tears.
"I'll wait for that day."
My voice was quiet.
There was no anger in it.
Only exhaustion.
My uncle eventually looked at me.
"Does your mother know?"
"Yes. I told her last night. She wanted some space alone, so I didn't disturb her."
"Is she angry with us?"
"She is angry with Aunt."
I looked at him.
"Not you."
My uncle looked down.
Then he took a deep breath.
"Aurelia…"
"Yes?"
"Can I ask you one last favour?"
I nodded.
"Where is your aunt?"
"She is in custody at the police station. I don't know the exact name of the station, but it's the nearest one to my house. There's a crowded market nearby. You'll find it easily."
He remained silent for a moment.
"What am I supposed to say to her?"
His voice was empty.
"What she did is already done."
He looked toward the floor.
"Your uncle is defeated this time, Aurelia."
A tear slipped down his cheek.
"By the woman he loved the most."
He looked at me.
"I lost my brother."
His voice cracked.
"And I lost the woman I thought I knew."
He wiped his face.
"Now I have to recover from both."
His eyes moved toward my cousin.
"And take care of him."
I reached for his hand.
"No matter what happens, Uncle…"
I held it tightly.
"If you ever need help, call me."
He looked at me.
"I won't hate you."
I smiled faintly.
"You are still my best uncle."
He placed his other hand over mine.
"Take care of yourself, dear."
His voice softened.
"Your uncle will always be on your side."
He gently patted my head.
Then they left.
I closed the door.
And suddenly the house was silent again.
A Few Hours Later
I sat on the couch.
I didn't know how long I had been there.
I kept thinking about Dad.
My family.
My aunt.
The person she used to be.
The person she had actually been.
My thoughts wouldn't stop.
Then suddenly, a sharp pain twisted through my stomach.
I frowned.
I tried to sit up.
The pain became worse.
I placed my hand over my stomach.
"What's happening?"
I tried to reach for my phone.
It was on the table.
Just a little farther.
I pushed myself up.
My vision suddenly blurred.
My legs weakened.
I fell to the floor.
I was still conscious.
Barely.
I could hear everything around me.
Then—
The doorbell.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
"Aurelia?"
Vincent.
I tried to answer.
Nothing came out.
"Aurelia?"
His voice became louder.
"AURELIA!"
I wanted to say I'm here.
I couldn't.
The door opened suddenly.
Vincent rushed inside.
His eyes immediately found me on the floor.
His entire expression changed.
"Aurelia!"
He dropped beside me.
His hands carefully supported me.
"Look at me."
I tried.
"Aurelia, look at me."
My eyes opened slightly.
He looked terrified.
Not angry.
Not composed.
Terrified.
"Can you hear me?"
I barely nodded.
"I'm taking you to the hospital."
He carefully lifted me.
One arm supported my shoulders while the other supported my legs.
"Mr. Sanchez!"
His voice was sharp.
"Get the car. Now."
He carried me outside.
I could barely keep my eyes open.
"Stay with me, Aurelia."
His voice was different.
I've never heard Vincent sound like that.
"Please."
Hospital
Everything blurred together.
Doctors.
Nurses.
White lights.
Questions.
Then darkness.
When I opened my eyes, the first thing I saw was the ceiling.
The second thing I noticed was a hand holding mine.
I turned my head.
Vincent.
He was sitting beside my bed.
His head had fallen slightly forward.
He was asleep.
Still holding my hand.
I quietly lifted my free hand and touched his hair.
His eyes opened immediately.
For one second, he looked confused.
Then he saw me.
His entire face changed.
"You're awake."
He immediately stood.
"I'll call the doctor."
He pressed the button.
The doctor entered and examined me.
After a few minutes, he stepped outside with Vincent.
I could hear them speaking quietly.
"She experienced an acute stomach episode, likely related to indigestion and not eating properly. She's fine now, but she needs regular meals and rest."
Vincent nodded.
"Is she completely okay?"
"Yes."
The doctor smiled.
"Just make sure she takes care of herself."
He looked at Vincent.
"And since you're her boyfriend, you should make sure she doesn't skip meals."
I opened my mouth.
"He's not—"
Vincent nodded.
"I will."
The doctor left.
I stared at Vincent.
"Why didn't you tell him you're not my boyfriend?"
Vincent sat down beside me.
"Because I will be soon."
I raised an eyebrow.
"Pretty sure of yourself, aren't you?"
"Very."
He picked up the breakfast tray.
"Anyway. Eat."
"I don't have an appetite."
He looked at me.
"Little Cat."
"No Vin-."
"I wasn't asking."
He pushed the tray closer.
"Eat."
I sighed.
"Fine."
He uncovered the plate.
Pancakes.
I stared.
"How did you know?"
He looked at me innocently.
"Know what?"
"That I like pancakes."
"With honey."
He paused.
"I have my ways."
I took a bite.
The sweetness made me smile slightly.
Then I held the fork toward him.
"Have some."
He hesitated.
"You don't like pancakes?"
"I don't."
"Then don't have if you don't like."
"No I will take bite, you offered."
He took the bite.
His expression changed.
"Wow."
I smiled.
"So?"
He looked at me.
"It's… delicious."
I laughed softly.
"You're lying."
"Not really."
He took another bite.
And for some reason, he smiled.
He had never liked pancakes.
But somehow, that didn't matter anymore.
Because the moment she fed him one, something inside him changed.
He looked at her.
Really looked at her.
The tiredness in her eyes.
The faint smile on her face.
The way she was trying to act normal after everything that had happened.
And Vincent suddenly understood something.
He had spent so much time thinking about how to make Aurelia love him.
But somewhere along the way, he had stopped thinking about whether he could live without her.
The answer frightened him.
Because he knew it now.
He couldn't.
He didn't want to.
He wanted to be there when she was happy.
When she was angry.
When she was stubborn.
When she overthought.
When she pretended she was fine.
He wanted to be the person she called when the world became too loud.
And for the first time, Vincent didn't want to wait.
He wanted to tell her.
Tonight.
He would take her somewhere quiet.
He would look her in the eyes.
And he would finally ask her to be his.
Not because she had been through something terrible.
Not because she needed someone.
But because he loved her.
And he wanted her to choose him.