The hospital at night was unnervingly quiet.
Only the distant corridor lights flickered—like silent warnings of the rough road ahead.
Palin leaned against her bed, wide awake but deep in thought.
Since hearing about the new evidence, she hadn't been able to relax for a moment.
"You know, Manida," she began softly,
"During that funding competition, I turned down a senior's proposal. He was proud, arrogant. I didn't think he'd hold a grudge this long."
Manida adjusted her glasses. "You think it's him?"
Palin nodded. "Just a hunch. But whoever could erase footage and tamper with vehicles didn't act on impulse."
Manida paused, recalling the young man who had once waited outside the operating room—the student who had admired Palin, been rejected, and grown jealous.
At the time, she suspected him.
Now, she saw it differently—he had been nothing more than a scapegoat.
"Lin," she said slowly, "that boy might've just been used. The real mastermind… is the man you mentioned."
A few days later, Manida accompanied Palin for a follow-up visit.
The air outside smelled of wet grass, but neither could feel any lightness.
Their car stopped near the university. The familiar buildings stood quietly under the sun.
Palin looked at them, her expression unreadable.
"I have to go back," she murmured. "If it really is him, I need to see it for myself."
Manida frowned. "You're not fully recovered."
"But it's my past… and my present." Palin met her eyes with calm determination.
"I don't want to live forever under someone else's shadow."
Manida's chest tightened. After a long pause, she nodded.
"Alright. But I'm staying by your side the whole time."
The campus hallways were as noisy as ever, yet everything felt colder now.
They walked one behind the other into the office. The door clicked open—and tension filled the air.
The senior sat at his desk.
For a brief moment, his eyes flickered with panic—then he forced a calm smile.
"Palin? You're here? I heard you were hospitalized."
Palin's smile was faint, edged with frost.
"Yes. Thanks to a little 'accident.' You seem awfully concerned—though a bit late."
Manida stood by silently, her gaze sharp as a blade.
The man's hand twitched under the desk, his voice steady but tight.
"You think it was me? Don't joke. They already caught the suspect, didn't they?"
Palin stepped closer, her tone turning cuttingly cold.
"What if that suspect was just a pawn? What about you—any explanation?"
The air grew tense, the ticking clock echoing like a countdown to revelation.
Manida caught a glimmer of malice in his eyes—not mere guilt, but obsession.
Her heart sank.
This man wasn't calm. He was dangerous.
Then he laughed—low and chilling.
"Palin, you really haven't changed. Always too smart for your own good."
His laughter filled the small room like an invisible noose tightening around their throats.
Both women knew—
The fracture behind the storm had finally exposed its darkness.