In the dim light of their bedroom, Carmilla sat on the edge of the bed, her fingers absently fidgeting with the hem of her nightgown.
She let out a deep sigh, the weight of the evening settling over her like a heavy blanket. "I didn’t know he really knew dicine," she murmured, almost to herself.
"Rember when Father got very sick? Noah asked if we wanted him to check on the old man, but I thought he was just being polite. I told him it was okay. I didn’t think anything of it."
Adam, who had been near the window, turned around and looked at her. His frown deepened as she finished her sentance.
"Carmilla, this man is not normal. He doesn’t seem like the type to say things just for appearances. He doesn’t do anything without reason." Adam said with a low but tense voice.
His hands clenched into fists at his sides. "I don’t want this to happen again, especially not with him."
Carmilla looked up at him, confusion and guilt swirling in her eyes. "I didn’t think—"
"No, you didn’t think," Adam interrupted, his frustration bubbling over. "You should have told . I asked you last ti what he said after I rushed out to see Dad without any explanation, and you just told he wished the old man good health. You never ntioned that Noah had offered to help."
Her face paled, and she cast her gaze downward, guilt heavy on her shoulders. "I thought it was a matter of no importance," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Especially with your father’s health deteriorating. I didn’t want to get your hopes up over what seed like an empty offer…"
Adam’s expression hardened, the room growing colder with the weight of unspoken tension.
"It wasn’t an empty offer, Carmilla. That man could have saved my dad a week of anguish. Next ti, don’t assu." His tone was harsh, but his words were laced with the deep worry he carried.
"My dad could have died today if it wasn’t for the coincidence of Noah visiting Arthur’s house."
Carmilla bit her lip, fighting back tears. The gravity of her mistake hit her harder now than it had before. She could only nod, her voice too strained to offer any further defence.
Seeing the guilt etched across Carmilla’s face, Adam’s hard expression softened. He could see how deeply she regretted her decision, and though he knew he had to be stern so she wouldn’t repeat sothing like this again.
The sight of her near tears tugged at his heart. She had hidden sothing so important from him, but she hadn’t done it maliciously. His frustration stemd from worry—worry for his father, worry for their family.
Noah wasn’t ordinary, not by any ans. Adam had known that ever since the night Noah saved their daughter. Alone and unard, Noah had taken on four internationally wanted criminals.
That kind of strength, that kind of calm under pressure—it spoke volus about who Noah really was, and it directly contradicted what Carmilla had thought of him at first.
Carmilla’s lips quivered, and Adam could see that she was on the verge of tears. Without hesitation, he moved to sit beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. His voice was much softer now, the anger that had flared up earlier fading into the background.
"Carmilla," he said gently, his tone warm and comforting.
"I’m sorry I snapped at you. I just... I’ve been so worried about Dad. And you know how much this situation with Noah has on edge. I didn’t an to take it out on you."
She looked up at him, her eyes shimring with unshed tears, but her expression softened in relief at his change in tone. Adam tightened his hold on her, pulling her closer.
"It’s just... his life was on the line, and next ti, who knows what it could be? We can’t afford to overlook things like this again, alright?"
Carmilla nodded, sniffling a little as she leaned into him, grateful for his understanding. "I’m sorry, Adam," she whispered.
"I didn’t realize how important he was… I just didn’t want to worry you more than you already were."
"I know," he replied, his thumb gently brushing over her hand. "But from now on, you can’t keep these things from no matter how insignificant they seem. If Noah offers to help, we can’t just brush it off. There’s more to him than we can see, and we need to keep that in mind."
Carmilla nodded again, the guilt slowly lifting from her chest. Adam smiled softly, pressing a light kiss to her forehead. "We’ll get through this, together," he murmured
With a smile on her face, she replied, "Mnm."
anwhile, Noah sped down the motorway, the hum of his Lykan Hypersport blending with the stillness of the night.
His fingers tapped rhythmically against the steering wheel, his gaze steady on the empty road ahead.
Then, his phone buzzed, pulling him out of his thoughts. He glanced at the screen, his brow furrowing as he noticed the ssage was from an unknown number. With a flick of his thumb, he opened it.
"Drive safe, Noah. Let’s et up so ti?"
The na wasn’t there, but he instantly knew who it was from. Alia.
For a mont, Noah stared at the ssage, his eyes scanning the words, but his focus drifted, and sothing deep inside him stirred.
"UGHH!" Noah scread lightly, as he held his head with his hands.
A shadow flickered across his mind, followed by a voice—soft, young, but heartbreakingly familiar.
"Noah, promise you won’t do that again, okay?"
The words hit him like a wave, and an image flashed before his eyes, vivid and disorienting. Suddenly, he wasn’t in the car anymore.
Noah found himself standing in a place that seed to defy description—an expanse of white, endless and empty. It wasn’t that his mind couldn’t register the details; it was more as though it refused to.
The space around him was unfamiliar, hazy, like a forgotten mory fading into obscurity. Yet, despite the vagueness of the environnt, one thing stood out in stark clarity.
In front of him stood a girl. She couldn’t have been older than fourteen, her eyes wide with innocence, though they held a wisdom far beyond her years.
Her hair fell in gentle waves down her back, swaying slightly as if touched by a breeze that Noah couldn’t feel. She looked at him with a mixture of expectation and sothing deeper—sothing that tugged at his heart with a force he couldn’t understand.
There was no mistaking her. He knew who she was, even if his mind wanted to resist the recognition. The girl wasn’t just part of his past; she was a part of him—a part of the person he had promised himself he would never let down.
"Noah," she said softly, her voice carrying through the emptiness as though it was the only sound that existed. "Promise you won’t do that again, okay?"
Her words echoed in his mind, each syllable weaving through the fog of his mories. There was no accusation in her tone, no anger—just a simple plea. It was as if she was asking him not just to refrain from so specific action,
She was staring at him, her gaze unwavering, her expression earnest. "Promise ," she insisted, her small hands clutching his arm as if she could keep him grounded with her touch.
Noah felt a knot tighten in his chest. "What am I doing?" he wanted to ask, but the words wouldn’t form. He could only stare at her, the weight of his unspoken promise hanging between them like a barrier.
And then it hit him—he was breaking his oath. Slowly, imperceptibly, but surely, he was slipping back into sothing he’d once sworn to leave behind.
But now, that man was resurfacing, and with each calculated move, each manipulative action, he could feel himself drifting further away from the promise he had made.
The girl’s face lingered for a mont longer, her eyes filled with an unspoken plea.
"Noah, I hope we et up soti."
His breath caught in his throat as he tried to reach out to her, but the world around them began to blur, the whiteness folding in on itself like an illusion being torn apart. The girl’s image flickered, her form slowly dissolving into the mist of his subconscious.
"No," Noah whispered, his voice barely audible as he held out his hand toward her fading figure. "Wait…"
But she was already gone, swallowed by the endless white expanse. And just like that, the mory—no, the reminder—slipped through his fingers, leaving him standing alone in the void.
Suddenly, the flashback shattered like glass, and Noah was yanked back into the present, the harsh reality of the motorway rushing at him all at once.
His heart lurched as he realized his car had veered out of control. The speedoter had long passed the national limit by a large margin, the roar of the engine growing louder, almost deafening.
He had been driving on autopilot, lost in the haze of his mories, and now the sleek vehicle was careening dangerously across lanes.
His pulse spiked as the reality of the situation slamd into him. A car was just ahead, a re second away from a collision. The distance between them was closing too fast.
"Skrrtttt!"
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