Hello everyone đI wasn't able to upload today chapter 50 as fast as I wanted, so as an apology (and a gift đ), I'm giving you an extra chapter! I hope you'll enjoy it.
But⊠can I complain just a little? đ I see so many of you reading, which makes me really happy, but very few of you actually comment or support. Your comments, reviews, and little bits of encouragement really mean the world to meâthey give me the energy to keep writing and improving! đž
So if you enjoy the story, please don't stay silent. A small word, a little reaction, or a review can make a huge difference. Let's make this novel more lively together âš
Thank you for staying with me, and I hope you enjoy the extra chapter đ
And now⊠here's your chapter! đ
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The atmosphere inside the twins' family home was hauntingly quiet, suffocating in its weight. Morning sunlight filtered through the tall windows, painting the walls in soft streaks of gold, but none of its warmth touched the people sitting within. The brightness looked out of placeâmocking, almostâagainst the grief and anger that clung to the room like smoke.
No one moved. No one spoke.
Zane stood near the window, shoulders tense, fists curled at his sides. The veins on his hands stood out sharply, a silent testimony of the storm brewing inside him. His jaw was locked so tightly it ached, but he didn't care. His eyes were empty, staring at the floor as if the answers might bleed out from the polished wood.
Across from him, Bianca sat perched on the edge of the couch, her face pale, her fingers twisting the hem of her sleeve. Her voice was the first to break the silence, though it trembled.
"She had scars. Bruises. Some fresh⊠some years old. Signs of abuseâphysical, internal, emotional. Nightmares. Trauma." Her lips quivered as she looked around at the others, disbelief and rage mingling in her eyes. "What the hell did she go through all these years?"
The words hit harder than any scream.
Valentina pressed her hands against her face, tears streaking her cheeks. She shook her head, whispering almost to herself, "All this time⊠and we thought she was just cold. Just distant."
Bianca turned toward her, voice softer now. "But it wasn't coldness, Val. It was pain. She wasn't shutting us out. She was protecting herself."
Kai sat slumped forward, elbows on his knees, his dark brows drawn low in shock. His disbelief was written all over him. "This⊠can't be real. She never said a word. Not once."
Ivy let out a broken sob, burying her face in her hands. "What kind of monsters do this to someone? To her?" Her voice cracked, her shoulders shaking.
Rei leaned against the far wall, his face unreadable but his fists clenched so tightly the knuckles had gone white. When he spoke, his voice was like steelâlow, steady, unyielding. "We don't ask her. Not now. Not ever⊠unless she wants to speak."
His eyes, sharp and commanding, swept over everyone in the room. "We wait. We let her come to us. If she's ready."
Silence. Heavy. Final.
They all nodded. Quietly. Tearfully. Resolutely.
But Zane couldn't sit. Couldn't breathe in that room without feeling like the walls were pressing in on him. His chest burned, every inhale too sharp, every exhale too shallow. He could still hear the doctor's voice in his head, every word replaying on a cruel loop.
Old scars. New bruises. Internal damage. Night terrors. Years of pain.
Zane's hand clenched until his nails dug crescents into his palm.
He had known pain. He had lived with violence. But this? This wasn't pain. This was torment. This was someone slowly tearing pieces off her soul, day after day, year after year.
And he hadn't seen it.
How many times did she flinch when I touched her hand? How many times did she force a smile so I wouldn't ask questions? How many times did I look at her⊠and fail to see her bleeding inside?
The thought was unbearable. His chest screamed with rage, with guilt, with a helplessness that was turning into something darker.
He needed air.
Without a word, Zane walked out of the living room. His steps were steady, but his silence was louder than a roar.
Inside Aira's Room
The room was quiet, curtains drawn halfway. The scent of lavender from the fresh sheets barely covered the metallic undertone of ointments and antiseptic. Aira lay still under the blanket, her frail frame swallowed by its folds. Her long lashes fluttered against her pale skin, but her eyes were open.
She had been awake the whole time.
Every word the doctor had said. Every word her friends had whispered downstairs. She had heard it all.
Scars. Abuse. Nightmares. Pain.
Her throat tightened, her breaths shaky. They knew.
Her trembling fingers dug into the blanket, pulling it closer as if it could shield her from their pity. Her chest rose and fell faster, the thoughts crashing into her mind one after another.
They know now. The pieces of me I tried so hard to hide. The truth I buried under silence. Do they pity me now? Do they see me as fragile? Broken?
Her heart squeezed painfully.
What if they leave? What if this is too much? What if now⊠they can't love me anymore?
A single tear escaped, sliding down her temple into her hair. She didn't wipe it away.
Her hands gripped her arms, hugging herself tightly, as if trying to hold her fractured pieces together.
The door opened.
Softly. Carefully.
Zane.
He stepped inside without a word, the door clicking shut behind him. He carried a fleece blanket folded over one arm, and in the other hand, a glass of water. His presence filled the room, steady and grounding, yet strangely gentle.
He didn't look at her right away. He walked to the nightstand, placed the glass down, then slowly unfolded the blanket.
Kneeling beside the bed, he leaned forward, his movements cautiousâlike he was afraid of breaking her even more. With delicate hands, he draped the blanket over her shoulders, smoothing it out until she was cocooned in its warmth. His fingers brushed lightly against her forehead, tucking away a stray strand of hair.
She didn't move. Didn't speak.
But he knew she was awake.
He didn't force her to talk. Didn't ask questions.
He just whispered, voice low and hoarse, as if the words themselves were heavy.
"You don't have to say anything. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not until you're ready. Just knowâŠ" His voice broke, then steadied again, rough with emotion. "âŠI'm here. And I'm not leaving."
It wasn't loud. It wasn't dramatic. But to Aira, it was the most powerful vow she had ever heard.
Zane's hand lingered against her hair for a second before he stood, straightened, and quietly left the room, closing the door behind him.
Back in the Room â Aira Alone
Her chest rose and fell unevenly. Her hands trembled as she reached for the fleece blanket he had tucked around her. It smelled faintly of himâwarmth, leather, smoke, and something that was safety itself.
She pressed the fabric to her face, muffling her silent sobs.
Her shoulders shook violently as years of locked-away tears broke free.
But these weren't just tears of pain.
They were tears of disbelief.
Because for the first time in her life, someone had stayed.
Downstairs the silence lingered, heavy and suffocating. Each of them had their own storm raging inside, but unspokenly, they had come to a single decision.
They would wait.
They would not pry, not push, not demand answers. They would give her something no one else had ever given herâtime, patience, and a safe place to heal.
Because for years, they had only seen her silence.
But now, for the first time, they could finally hear her scream.