The police station had become a place of rising tension .... but for Jain, it was worse than anyone could imagine.
The news that a search warrant was about to be issued hit him like a hammer. It meant only one thing: his house would be combed through. And if that thing was found ..... the very thing that had already cost him his peace inside his own home ..... then disaster would not just knock, it would fall on him like a mountain.
Jain wiped his forehead again and again, sweat dripping despite the cold air of the office. His nervousness was written clearly across his face. From the far side of the room, Bai Yin sat with his pen, idly spinning it in his fingers. Yet, behind that calm posture, his eyes tracked every twitch, every nervous swallow, every movement Jain made. And Bai had already concluded one thing ..... this man was hiding something.
The tension broke when the station suddenly buzzed with commotion: the forensic report of the girl was about to arrive. The announcement sent a ripple through the officers, but Bai Yin's reaction was not relief. Instead, his brows furrowed, a flash of irritation passing over his features. A forensic report should never have taken this long. Something about the delay gnawed at him. Yet he stayed outwardly calm, spinning his pen, waiting.
That was when his assistant entered. Officer Xion, Her footsteps were measured, her expression collected, but when she reached Bai's desk, she didn't look at him ..... she turned her narrowed gaze directly toward Jain.
"If I'm not wrong…" she said, her tone sharp, "this man seems more frightened of something else than of the case itself. What do you think, sir?"
Bai Yin gave a slight nod. He didn't need words. They were thinking the same thing.
---
Meanwhile, across the city, Mian's world was collapsing. Leaving her house had become impossible. Angry crowds had turned on her, throwing stones, shattering windows, scarring walls. Her once-safe home had become a prison of fear. In the city, panic spread like smoke. Even Yen had shuttered her café, standing by Mian instead, trying to shield her from the storm.
Inside that broken house, Mian's sobs and disbelief filled the air. She could not understand how her life had shifted so suddenly, how laughter and warmth had turned overnight into suspicion and rage.
"Mian, please, don't worry," Yen whispered gently, her voice like a fragile hand trying to hold back a flood. "This must be some kind of mistake by the police. We'll do everything we can. Everything will be fine. You just need to hold on."
Her husband echoed the same words, standing beside Yen, both of them trying to keep Mian from crumbling entirely.
---
And yet, elsewhere, under the shade of roadside trees, another scene unfolded.
A motorcycle purred quietly along the path. Wee was at the handlebars, Lamai seated behind her. The air around them should have been heavy with the same dread that filled the city ..... yet Wee's face shone with a soft, almost secret glow.
It wasn't the road that brought her joy; it was the memory the road carried. Each turn reminded her of Yim ..... of the countless rides they had shared together, of Yim laughing in the wind, of her arms tightening around Wee's waist from behind. Those moments had woven themselves into her soul, an unbreakable thread of memory.
Lamai, confused by Wee's calm happiness, had asked more than once: whose bike was this? How had Wee even started it without a key? But every time she asked, Wee only answered with a small, knowing smile. In another life, she had repaired her own motorbike with her own hands, piece by piece. Machines like this carried no secrets from her. And more than that ..... this bike reminded her constantly of Yim.
The road stretched out, flanked by vast fields of green that shimmered in the morning light. Its beauty had a quiet power, as though the world itself was offering comfort. Even Lamai, weighed down by the unbearable tragedy looming over her, could not resist its calming touch.