Author's POV
The hospital room smelled like antiseptic and exhaustion.
Liam slept in the hospital bed, his face pale against the white pillow, his arm stretched out with an IV drip attached. He looked smaller than usual.
His mother sat beside him, her hand wrapped around his, her head bowed. She had not moved from that position in hours. Had not eaten. Had not slept.
Ruz stood by the window.
The sun had risen fully now, flooding the room with golden light that felt wrong somehow. Too bright. Too cheerful.
Her knuckles were wrapped in bandages. Her ribs ached. Every breath was a reminder of the fight. Every bruise was a memory she did not ask for.
The rest of them had been moved to a different waiting area, where the hospital staff could keep an eye on them without crowding Liam's room.
Adrian sat in the corner, his head back against the wall, his eyes closed. He was not sleeping.
Josh sat across from him, his expression unreadable. He had not said much since they arrived at the hospital.
Nika had her feet propped up on a chair, The bandage on her forehead was stark white against her skin. She kept touching it,
"Stop touching it," Mira said without looking up from her phone.
"It itches," Nika said.
"It is healing."
"It is annoying."
"You are annoying."
"Fair."
Mira's fingers moved across the screen, typing something, deleting it, typing again. She had been doing this for hours searching, tracking, trying to find any information about Kairo that the police had missed. Her broken finger was splinted and wrapped, but she did not let that stop her. She had learned to type with nine fingers a long time ago.
Aira sat curled in a chair near the corner, her knees pulled up to her chest, her arms wrapped around them. She had not spoken since they left the warehouse.
Enzo, Marco, Diego, and Eren sat in a loose cluster. They were talking quietly too quietly for anyone else to hear.
Enzo had a bandage wrapped around his forearm. Marco was icing his wrist. Diego had a black eye that was already starting to purple. Eren had a cut on his cheek.
They had fought well.
They had fought together.
And they had won.
Zayn stood by the door.
He had been standing there for an hour.
Had not sat down once.
His arms were crossed. His expression was neutral. Watching. Waiting.
Rifat sat alone at the far end of the room, his hands clasped between his knees, his head bowed. His shoulders were tense. He had been the first one to move in the warehouse, the first one to act, and he had not stopped moving since.
No one bothered him.
They all understood.
Kuya walked into the waiting room.
The door opened slowly, quietly, like he did not want to announce his presence. everyone looked up. Everyone straightened.
He looked tired.
More tired than Ruz had ever seen him. Dark circles under his eyes that looked like bruises. His shirt was wrinkled, his tie loose and crooked, his hair uncombed. He looked like he had aged ten years in the past twelve hours.
He sat down in the empty chair, the one that had been conspicuously empty since they arrived, like everyone had been saving it for him without realizing it.
No one spoke.
"I am not going to yell at you," he said finally.
Everyone blinked.
"You are not?" Josh asked.
"No."
A pause.
"I am too tired to yell. And honestly..." he looked around at their bandages, their bruises, their exhausted faces, their bloodshot eyes and trembling hands, "..you look like you have been yelled at enough for one night."
Adrian opened his eyes. "That is surprisingly mature of you."
"Shut up."
"Okay."
Kuya leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped together. He looked at each of them in turn not just glanced, but took the time to see them.
"What you did was stupid," he said. "Reckless. Dangerous. You could have died. All of you. In a warehouse. Alone. With no backup and no way out. Do you understand that? Do you understand how close you came to not coming back?"
He paused, letting the words settle.
"But you also saved your friend. You went into a situation that grown adults would have run from, and you did not run. You fought. You won. And you brought him home."
His voice dropped. Quieter now. Almost gentle.
"I am angry at you. But also proud of you."
No one knew what to say.
Nika broke the silence.
"…Can we have snacks now?"
Kuya stared at her.
"Snacks," he repeated.
"Yes. Snacks. I fought fifteen men. I earned snacks.I can see the chips from here. They are calling my name."
"You need stitches."
"I need snacks first. Stitches after."
Kuya pinched the bridge of his nose. "I am surrounded by insane people. Every single one of you. Certifiably insane."
"You raised us," Ruz pointed out.
"I raised Adrian. You were already broken when you arrived."
"That is fair too."
Kuya's expression shifted.
"Kairo is still out there," he said.
The room went quiet.
"The police are searching," Kuya continued. "They have his description. His name. His connections. But so far nothing. He disappeared. Vanished. Like he was never there."
"He was there," Adrian said. "We saw him. We fought his men."
"And now he is not," Kuya said. "He ran. And people like Kairo,they do not stay hidden forever. They have egos. They have pride. They have scores to settle."
"He might try again," Kuya said. "To hurt Liam. To finish what he started."
Ruz's hands curled into fists.
"Then we wait too," she said.
Kuya looked at her.
"And now," he said, "you are all involved. Kairo knows your faces now. He knows what you did. He knows that you stopped him."
He paused.
"You have to be more alert from now on. More careful. More aware. This is not a game anymore."
No one argued.
Because he was right.
Later, when the others were distracted Josh calling his parents, the rest scattered around the waiting room in various states of recovery, Kuya walked over to where Zayn stood by the door.
Zayn did not move.But his eyes shifted, just slightly.
"You were the first one to move in the warehouse," Kuya said. Not a question.
Zayn did not deny it.
"You could have waited. Planned. Strategized."
"Yes," Zayn said.
"You did not."
"No."
"Why?"
Zayn was quiet for a moment.
"Because waiting would have cost time. Time would have cost him." He nodded toward Liam's room. "I was not willing to pay that price."
Kuya studied him. "You do not talk much."
"You observe."
"Yes."
"You noticed things other people miss."
"Yes."
"Did you notice anything tonight? Anything the police might have missed?"
Zayn's eyes flickered. Something passed through them recognition, maybe, or memory.
"The boss," he said. "Kairo. He was not surprised to see us. He expected someone to come. He was waiting."
Kuya's jaw tightened. "That is what I thought."
"He knew about Liam. About us. About everything."
Kuya nodded slowly. "That is what I am afraid of."
They stood in silence.
Two people who understood each other without needing many words.
"When this is over," Kuya said finally, "when Kairo is caught, what will you do?"
Zayn looked at him.
"Go back to school," he said. "Graduate. Live."
"That simple?"
"No," Zayn said. "But that is the goal."
Kuya nodded. "Good. Keep it."
The door to Liam's room opened.
His mother stepped out, her face different now still tired, still worried, but softer somehow. Lighter. Like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders, even if only a little.
"He is awake," she said. "He is asking for you."
Everyone stood up at once.
Chaos returned immediately, chairs scraping against the floor, voices overlapping, bodies moving in every direction at the same time. Nika nearly fell over her own feet. Josh bumped into Enzo. Mira almost dropped her phone.
"One at a time," Liam's mother said, raising her hand. "He is still weak. He just woke up. His body has been through trauma."
They looked at each other.
Then, somehow, without discussion, they decided.
Ruz went first.
The room was dim when she walked in.
Liam was propped up against the pillows, his face still pale, dark circles under his eyes, an IV still attached to his arm. But his eyes were open. Conscious. Aware.
He looked at her.
"You look terrible," he said.
"You look worse," she replied.
"I was kidnapped."
"That is not an excuse."
He almost smiled. Almost.
She sat down in the chair beside his bed.
"How are you feeling?" she asked.
"Like I was tied to a chair and beaten by grown men who had nothing better to do with their lives."
"That is specific."
"I am a specific person."
Silence.
Not uncomfortable. Not heavy. Just the kind of silence that existed between people who had been through something together and did not need to fill every moment with words.
"…Thank you," Liam said.
Ruz looked at him.
"For what?"
"For coming. For not leaving me there. For fighting fifteen armed men with nothing but bad attitudes and worse planning. For.."
"We had a plan."
"Your plan was 'win.'"
"It worked."
He did smile this time. Small. Tired. But real.
"…You are insane," he said.
"I have been told. Multiple times. By multiple people."
"Probably by me."
"Definitely by me."
She leaned back in the chair, her arms crossed, her eyes on the monitors beside his bed. Beeping. Steady. Alive.
"Your mom is worried about you," she said.
"I know."
"She has been sitting in that chair since we got here. Has not moved. Has not eaten. Has not slept."
Liam's expression softened. His eyes moved to the door,
"I know," he said.
"She loves you."
"I know."
"Good. Do not make her worry like this again."
He looked at her. Really looked. At her bandaged knuckles, at the exhaustion in her eyes,
"…I will try," he said.
Silence stretched between them again.
Then Ruz spoke.
"How would you know?"
Liam frowned. "About what?"
"About my trauma. How would you know i have trauma?"
She stiffened.
Did not answer.
Liam continued, his voice quiet, careful. "Do you remember saving a kid three years ago? From some goons near the old market? He was running from them, and you stepped in. You fought them. You grabbed his hand and ran with him to the police station."
Ruz stared at him.
Her mind went back.
She was living with her grandmother then.
This was before the adoption, before Adrian's family, before everything changed. Her grandmother's house was small and cold and full of silence. The neighbors were loud.
She was walking to school that morning.
The sun was bright. The streets were crowded. She was late she was always late and she was trying to remember if she had done her homework or just imagined doing it.
Then she saw them.
Three men. Large. Mean. The kind of men who walked like they owned the streets and everyone on them.
And a boy.
He was small. mayben Fifteen at most. He had been fighting, the way he stood, the way he kept trying to get up even though they kept knocking him down.
But he could not win.
They were too strong. Too experienced.
So he ran.
They chased.
And Ruz
Ruz stepped into their path.
She did not think about it. Did not plan it. Did not consider the consequences. She just moved.
"Leave him alone," she said.
One of the men laughed. "Move, little girl. This does not concern you."
"It concerns me now."
She fought them.
Not well. Not cleanly. She was fifteen, undersized, but fighting like trained. she was fast. And she was angry. Not on them on relatives who whispered too loudly, against a grandmother who looked through her like she was made of glass, against a world that had decided she did not matter.
She grabbed the boy's hand.
"Run," she said.
They ran.
Through side streets. Through the crowded market where the men could not follow as easily.
They reached the police station.
The boy was safe.
Ruz looked at him, really looked, for the first time.
"You should be more careful," she said.
"Thank you," he said.
"Stay safe."
"What is yo....."
She was already walking away.
She did not hear the rest of his question.
She did not look back.
The Present
"That was you," Ruz said.
Liam nodded. "That was me."
"You knew. From the beginning. When I transferred to Monterrazas. You knew who I was."
"Yes."
"That is why you were always with me. Why you stuck to me like glue. Why you would not leave me alone no matter how many times I told you to."
She paused.
"That is why you called yourself my best friend before I even agreed to it."
Liam nodded again. "I was angry at you, you know. For forgetting me. For not remembering the person who you saved once. I waited for you to recognize me, and you never did."
He looked down at his hands.
"So I decided I would make you remember. I would stay close. I would be there. I would not let you forget me again."
Ruz stared at him.
"You really are an idiot," she said.
"Probably."
"Why did you not just tell me?"
"Because I was angry," he said. "And because I was afraid also that if I told you, you would push me away."
She was quiet for a moment.
"Good. Stay angry with me."
"That is not going to happen."
"Yes, it is."
"No, it is not."
"Liam."
"Ruz."
She stood up.
"I am going to check on the others," she said.
"You are running away."
"I am not running. I am walking. There is a difference."
"There is not."
"Goodbye, Liam."
"See you later, Ruz."
She walked to the door.
Paused.
Without turning around: "…I am glad you are okay."
Before he could respond, she was gone.
The others filed in slowly after she left.
Not all at once they had learned their lesson about overwhelming him but one by one, in pairs, in small groups, until the room was full of people and noise and the kind of chaos that only happened when too many teenagers were crammed into too small a space.
Josh stood near the foot of the bed, his expression lighter now, almost normal. "You missed a good fight," he said.
"I was unconscious," Liam said.
"That is not an excuse."
"That is literally the definition of an excuse. I was unconscious."
Nika leaned against the wall, her bandaged forehead catching the light. "I got this," she said, pointing at her head, "pulling a guy off you. He was huge. Like, professional wrestler huge. I saved your life."
"I am honored."
"You should be."
"I said I was."
"Say it again."
"Honored."
"Good."
Adrian stood near the window, his arms crossed, his expression unreadable. But his presence was enough.
Mira sat on the windowsill, her phone in her hand, her broken finger splinted and wrapped. "I tracked your signal," she said. "Without me, they would still be looking. You would still be there."
"I am grateful," Liam said.
Aira stood near the door, her arms wrapped around herself, her eyes on Liam. She did not say anything.
Zayn stood behind her, his presence steady, He caught Liam's gaze and nodded once.
Liam nodded back.
Rifat stood near the corner, his hands in his pockets, his expression unreadable. But when Liam looked at him, something passed between them not words, not gestures, just… understanding.
"…You owe me," Rifat said.
"For what?"
"For not leaving you."
"I did not ask you to come."
"You did not have to."
Liam looked at him for a long moment.
"…Fine. I owe you."
"Good. I will collect later."
Enzo, Marco, Diego, and Eren stood in a loose cluster near the door, each of them bearing their own injuries, each of them looking at Liam like they were seeing him for the first time.
"…You are trouble," Enzo said.
"I know," Liam said.
"Good trouble," Marco added.
"Debatable."
"Not debatable," Diego said. "You survived. You have friends who fought an army to save you. You are still here. "
Eren nodded. "Agreed."
Later, when the visitors had been chased out by the nurses and the room had been returned to silence, Ruz stood outside the hospital.
The sun was higher now. Brighter. The kind of morning that made you believe in fresh starts and second chances and the possibility of things getting better.
She did not believe any of that.
But she stood in the sunlight anyway.
Adrian walked up beside her.
"Kairo," he said.
"I know."
"We will find him."
"I know."
"And when we do..."
"I know."
He looked at her. "You keep saying that."
"Because I already know. I have already decided. There is no question. There is no doubt. We will find him, and we will finish this. Together."
Adrian nodded.
They stood in silence.
Two siblings. Two survivors. Two people who had seen too much and lost too much and were still standing anyway.
"…She would be proud of you," Adrian said quietly.
Ruz did not ask who he meant.
"…I know," she said.
Not peace.
Not yet.
But maybe the beginning of a war.