The air was thick with tension. "Aiden! Do... do you despise me or hate me?" The words hung in the air. He shot her a cold glance, then, just as the police were about to put him in the car, he grabbed her and unlocked her handcuffs.
His father chuckled, "I knew you'd think about that. I mean, I can destroy you."
Aiden began to laugh, then said, "Of course, dear father, I'm scared."
Arin's eyes widened. "Father? Is... is this Aiden's adoptive family?" As Sira made a move to approach, Arin grabbed her hand, preventing her.
Aiden declared, "I wanted to try something! You see, you want to exploit what you call madness, so I'll experiment to show how devoted a son I am." He then grabbed his father's arm and forced him into a chair.
The officer interjected, "Sir... what are you doing?"
Aiden looked at him, smiled, and holding chains, said, "Do you doubt me? I won't harm this damned old man. I'll make him experience what he used to do to me."
Arin stammered, "W... what... what did he do to you?"
As Aiden bound his father with chains, he replied, "This, you see. The last time this happened, do you remember, Sira, the day I met you on the bus? But unfortunately, I have no proof."
The mother hurried into the basement, heading to a locked safe. She entered the password, opened it, and pulled out a flash drive. She looked at it for a moment, then returned to the basement.
The mother approached Aiden with slow, nervous steps. "Aiden... my son, I... I have proof."
At that moment, the father screamed, "You cursed woman! Didn't you say that day you got rid of it?"
The mother, crying, retorted, "I said I did, but I couldn't. How could I live with this guilt? You turned me into a monster. Wasn't it enough that he was small? Wasn't it enough that he lost his memory? Isn't it enough that he suffered from post-traumatic stress? I think he was looking for affection like any other child, but you..."
Aiden's hysterical laughter erupted, as if the hidden pain within him had transformed into that hollow laughter. Sira stepped forward and embraced him, as if gathering the fragments of a shattered heart, her presence the soothing balm to his hysteria.
The mother suggested, "Let's try playing it in the living room. It's been a long time, and I don't know if it still works." Everyone left the father tied to the chair and securely closed the door. The mother put the flash drive on the big screen, starting from the very first day – the cursed day of adoption.
The first scene appeared:
The mother on the screen, bending down to young Aiden, holding his hand and saying with a warm smile: "Aiden, my son... this is your new room. I don't know what you like yet, but if you want to change anything, just tell me, you poor boy..." Then she hugged him tenderly.
But the image quickly cut out.
A different, dark scene appeared next.
The same day... two in the morning.
Little Aiden was bound with iron chains in the basement, his frail body trembling on the cold floor. The father bent over him, inserting a needle into his small arm, once... twice... three times.
Then kicks and blows rained down on him.
Blood seeped from his small mouth, but he didn't scream. He was suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder, no sound... no resistance.
Outside, Sira sat with Aiden, who didn't want to watch the past he tried to forget.
The night was still, breathing quietly. The sky stretched above them like a dark velvet curtain sprinkled with thousands of glittering jewels. The stars seemed to pulsate with life, shimmering softly, some bright, some on the verge of fading.
Aiden slowly raised his finger, pointing to a faint star struggling to survive amidst the glow of its sisters, and his voice came out a whisper, hoarse with something profound:
"Look, Sira... at that star over there."
She followed his gaze, and with eyes half-closed in contemplation, she said with deep calm:
"The one that will disappear? That's your past, isn't it? As for me, here I am... your present, Aiden."
He turned his face towards her, not speaking. His eyes spoke for him, as if a haze of undying memories lay between his eyelids. He smiled, but it wasn't a joyful smile, rather an attempt to soothe an unquenchable internal fire.
"Inside me..." he said, looking at the sky again, "rusty memories... painful ones. Some made me shrink into myself, and some carved unresolved complexes within me. After all that has happened... do you still not fear staying with a man like me?"
She was silent for a moment, then slowly raised her head towards him. Her eyes caught the moonlight and the reflection of the stars, as if they held the world's brilliance.
She stepped towards him lightly, her hands on his cheeks, trembling from the confession, then she pressed a kiss to his lips... but it wasn't a fleeting kiss. It was deep, warm, as if telling him: "I won't leave."
And with a voice full of confidence, she whispered:
"And does hope betray those who trust it? I said I own you... so how can I disappear? I told you before, and I will repeat it whenever you need: I will absorb your storm... to the last drop."
At that moment, Arin was watching the clip. His eyes were overflowing, and tears flowed silently, as if crumbling from a cracked rock. He wasn't just crying from pain... but from the weight of the truth.
He felt as if ropes were tightening around his chest. Those videos were no longer just images, but had transformed in his mind into iron bands pulling him, binding him... imprisoning him in a past he hadn't chosen.
He looked at his brother's gaze, the gaze of a child who had been betrayed... whose sense of security had been shattered, never to be repaired. It was a gaze that asked: "Why did no one embrace me?"
That night ended with a thick thread of sadness, as if a long page of pain had finally been turned. That same night, Aiden decided – at least temporarily – to stop his work as a police officer. His decision was like someone turning off the light in a room crowded with memories, just to find a moment of silence.
As for Arin, he sat in a corner of his room surrounded by the gloom of an incomplete dawn, questions piling up in his chest like a dense fog, trying to clear it to reveal the truth: How would he show what happened in 2009? How would he convey all those painful stories to Aiden?
At that moment, Sira was sitting on her balcony, bathed in the city's twinkling lights, while the threads of dawn slowly crept over the silent buildings. Her eyes were lost in the horizon, but her mind was elsewhere.
Suddenly, she spotted him.
There, on the opposite side of the street, Arin stood motionless, silently gazing at the Arcadia Vaulte building. He seemed to be talking to something no one else could see.
Faint whispers from the past slipped into her memory; she remembered what he had said on the day of the accident.
Without thinking, she put on her shoes and quietly left the house. She carefully closed the door behind her, then crossed the street with hesitant steps, her eyes fixed on his back. He was about to leave when she quickly extended her hand and grabbed his arm.
He turned to her in surprise.
Arin:
"Sira?... What are you doing here?"
Sira, breathless with worry and running:
"That day... the day of the accident... you said something..."
Arin, trying to hide his discomfort:
"Said what?"
Sira, looking directly into his eyes:
"You said: Aiden... my brother... Did you mean that Aiden is your brother? Is Aiden really your brother?"
A shock Arin couldn't hide was etched on his features. His gaze was distant, his eyes avoiding hers. For a moment, she thought he would tell the truth.
But he took a deep breath then said in a low voice:
Arin:
"I... I don't remember any of this. Maybe you're imagining things, Sira."
Sira, her voice trembling with anger and certainty:
"Imagining? Impossible. Everything points to it... the places you were, your glances, your confusion whenever Aiden's name was mentioned... Tell me the truth, Arin."
The silence between them was like the sound of a bullet in a still night. The cold seeped into her fingertips, but she didn't remove her hand from his arm. She was waiting for a confession... or even a tear to reveal what he had been trying to bury for years.
Despite them standing on the sidewalk, a sharp light split through the darkness of the road. A motorcycle's headlight sped towards Sira with insane speed, as if the driver saw nothing in front of him... or as if he intended to run her over.
One moment. A scream caught in her throat, her eyes widened with terror. She didn't move.
But Arin was faster than the danger.
He grabbed her powerfully and pulled her towards him, shielding her with his body. She collided with his chest, her breath hitched as he wrapped his arm around her protectively.