The night breeze is cool against Leila's skin, brushing away the remnants of a long, draining day. The campus is hushed, streetlights casting soft halos over the empty pathways.
"I needed this," Sofia sighs, stretching her arms as she walks beside Leila. "Too much tension in the air lately. If we didn't get out, I was going to combust."
Leila chuckles lightly. "Same. My body's tired but my mind refuses to shut off."
They walk toward the small park just beyond the dorms, their steps in sync, the silence comforting.
"So," Sofia nudges her gently, "what happened today? You've been quiet all evening."
Leila hesitates. Then: "I was accused of something I didn't do... in front of the CEO."
Sofia stops mid-step. "Wait—what?"
Leila shrugs, forcing a small smile. "They said I was leaking internal reports. Trying to stir up office politics."
"What? You?" Sofia's voice rises with disbelief. "Are they out of their minds?"
"I don't know who started it," Leila murmurs. "But I shut it down."
"You what?"
Leila lets the memory settle before speaking again. "I told them the only things I'll never let anyone question are my character and my family. Those are my last hooks, Sofia. I don't care about anything else."
There's a pause. Sofia looks at her like she's seeing her for the first time.
"You should've seen their faces," Leila adds with a wry smile.
Sofia lets out a proud laugh. "That's my girl. You wrecked them."
They keep walking, leaves crunching underfoot.
Some distance away, concealed by the trees near the path, two shadows move quietly — Elias and Kai, unnoticed observers.
"She looks... different tonight," Elias mutters, watching Leila, her posture softer, more relaxed in the moonlight.
Kai smirks. "You mean, more like a person and less like a case file?"
Elias says nothing. He's too focused on the way she listens — really listens — when Sofia talks.
Back on the path, Sofia's voice turns playful again.
"Wanna hear something embarrassing?" she grins. "When I was a kid, I used to wear princess gowns around the house and demand people call me 'Her Royal Highness.'"
Leila laughs. "Why am I not surprised?"
"I was an only child. Pampered like a cupcake in a glass box. Dada would carry me around like I was made of gold."
Leila smiles fondly. "Sounds warm."
"It was," Sofia says softly. "But somewhere along the way, I started feeling like... if I could be a source of light for others, it'd make everything worth it. Like Dada's kindness could live through me."
They fall into a thoughtful silence before Sofia nudges her again.
"Your turn. Tell me something about little Leila."
Leila exhales, slow and hesitant. "I was... chaos."
Sofia blinks. "What?"
"I was the storm in our house," Leila chuckles softly. "Middle child syndrome to the core. Scraped knees, broken things, loud cries, climbing trees I shouldn't have..."
"You? But you're so—"
"I wasn't always like this," Leila cuts in gently. "I was Baba's shadow, his little warrior. Every injury I got, he'd treat it like a badge of honor." Her voice dips. "But as I grew up... things happened. In our house. Things that demanded silence instead of noise. Maturity instead of mess. And without realizing, I changed."
Sofia's gaze softens. "No one told you to?"
"No one had to." Leila looks up at the sky. "We watched Mama. Watch how she carried herself in a society that judges women before hearing them. She moved through it with dignity, with a softness that never cracked. We learned from her—me, my sister, even my brother."
"You mean... she was your model?"
"She still is," Leila whispers. "She didn't preach. She just lived. And we learned."
There's a long pause. Sofia links her arm with Leila's.
"I wish I could've met her."
"She'd like you," Leila smiles. "You remind me of light."
Unseen, Elias watches that smile from the shadows — and for the first time, it doesn't feel like a mystery to solve.
It feels like peace he's never known.