"The child is still alive." The voice belonged to a man with a sharp gaze, standing before a window. His frame was tall and sturdy—built like a child yet bearing the weight of years. His face was calm but resolute, emotionless as he stared at the view outside: buildings shrouded in darkness, each one identical, heavy and still. There was no hesitation or doubt in him—as if he already knew the answer, yet wished to hear it spoken aloud.
From behind him came a trembling, stuttering voice, each word laced with fear and uncertainty: "Y-Yes… the child is still alive, sir… please forgive me… because… because I failed to carry out our plan."
Slowly, he turned to face the man slumped on the floor. His voice was cold and thick, each syllable a blow: "What went wrong? Only you… only you were assigned to do this—youwere the one who planned it all."
He glanced toward the door and nodded firmly. "Take him," he ordered, his voice just as harsh. "Beat him or kill him—either way, you must learn to respect yourselves and our brotherhood."
The man on the floor scrambled back, sobbing and pleading, his whole body shaking: "Sir… sir, please… forgive me… I'll do anything, just don't kill me… I have a family, please don't kill me!"
But he did not respond—he only stared as the gangsters filed into the room, giving just a quick nod. His face showed no emotion as he watched them drag the wailing man out.
Once they reached the garage where the vehicles were parked, the man let out a loud shout: "Let go of me! You're all useless!" The gangsters immediately released their grip, acting like obedient dogs showing respect to their true master. No one knew that the boss's men were already aware of the man's real identity—and that far away, in a quiet house under a different sky, his failure would set into motion changes no one could have foreseen.
That same night, dark clouds swallowed the stars whole, and rain poured down mercilessly on the ground. In a small room somewhere far from the shadows of those buildings, a woman's sobs mixed with the storm—tears born of days of pain and suffering.
Her mother found her there, and worry etched deep lines on her face. The food on the table sat untouched, cold and forgotten. "Are you okay, my child? You haven't eaten a single bite—you must be hungry." The words were gentle as they came from the doorway, heavy with care for her daughter's well-being.
"I'm still full," Tanya replied, her voice soft and listless—as if nothing more than wind brushing past thin curtains. Before she could finish speaking, the door swung open fully—and her mother stepped in, bringing with her the warmth of an embrace that seemed to cast light into the dark room, ready to hold and comfort her child.
When morning came, it was Saturday—no classes at school, which was why Tanya's sleep was as sweet as hot chocolate on a cold dawn. She slowly opened her eyes when it was nearly noon, sunlight already spilling across her bedroom floor. Her mother had left early for work, pressing a quick kiss to Tanya's forehead before heading out, so the quiet house was left to her alone.
Tanya made her way to her computer, her feet moving slowly across the sunlit floor. When she turned it on, a flood of messages and notifications flooded the screen—around a thousand in total, all praising her beauty.
Her eyes widened, and her hand—midway through tucking hair behind her ear—froze. As she focused on the sheer number of messages, all filled with compliments on her looks, a quiet confusion began to spread through her mind.
The feeling grew deeper with every line she read, weaving through her thoughts like a thread she could not untangle. Then one message stood out from the rest—sent by someone she barely knew, with only a single line: "Did you like these messages?"
The question hung in the air before her, only deepening her confusion. She stared at the screen, her hand resting on the table slightly trembling. Outside, the sun continued to shine, but inside, she was lost—unsure of how she should feel, or what these words, and this strange new world of praise, really meant for her.