Nobela ni Kira.E

CHAPTER 62: MY WOMAN NEEDS MEMay's footsteps slowed as she approached the house.The front door was open.Just a crack. Just enough for the evening breeze to push it gently back and forth, the hinges creaking softly in the silence. A sliver of light spilled onto the dark porch.May stopped at the bottom of the steps."Maria?"No answer.She climbed the steps slowly, her hand gripping the railing. The papers she had collected from the street — the medical report, the crumpled note — were clutched against her chest. She pushed the door open with her free hand.The living room was empty. The lights were on. Maria's shoes were kicked off by the entry table, her bag still sitting where she had dropped it."Maria? I'm home."Nothing.May walked through the living room. The kitchen. The downstairs bathroom. Every room was still. Every room was empty.She climbed the stairs, her legs heavier with each step. Maria's bedroom door was open. The chair from her desk was pulled to the closet. Boxe

CHAPTER 61: WHAT WE FIND IN THE DARKThe house was quiet when Maria returned from the hospital.Sophia was home. Safe. Discharged. Maria had stayed long enough to see her settled into her childhood bedroom, Stella fussing over pillows and blankets, the house feeling almost normal again. Almost.Now her own house felt too still.She kicked off her shoes at the door and set her bag on the entry table. The living room was tidy. The kitchen was clean. A note from May sat on the counter: At the restaurant. Back by eight. There's lasagna in the fridge. Love you.Maria smiled faintly. She wasn't hungry.She climbed the stairs, her feet heavy on the worn carpet. Her room was exactly as she'd left it — bed unmade, work clothes draped over the chair, her phone charger dangling off the nightstand. She plugged her phone in and sat down on the edge of the mattress.Her eyes drifted to the window. The sky was soft with early evening. She thought about Francis. About his voice on the phone last nigh

CHAPTER 60: THE GRACE WE GIVEThe hospital room was buzzing with activity.Sophia stood by the window, dressed in her own clothes for the first time in nearly two weeks. A soft blue sweater. Comfortable jeans. Sneakers that Jane had brought from her apartment. Her mother, Stella, was folding the last of her belongings into a small suitcase. A nurse checked her vitals one final time, marking something on a clipboard."You're officially free, Miss Martins," the nurse said with a smile. "The doctor signed your discharge papers. Just take it easy for the next few weeks. No strenuous activity. No screens for long periods. And if you feel dizzy or have any headaches—""Come back immediately. I know." Sophia smiled. "You've only told me twelve times."Sophia rolled her eyes, but there was no heat in it. She was too happy to be leaving. The same four walls. The same ceiling cracks. The same terrible food. She was done with all of it.Maria stood by the door, watching the scene with quiet sati

CHAPTER 59: A MATCHThe library was nearly empty.Jane sat at her usual table in the back corner, tucked between the literature section and a window that overlooked the courtyard. It was her spot. The one place on campus where no one bothered her, where the world shrank to the size of a textbook and everything else faded away.Except today, everything else wasn't fading.She had read the same paragraph three times. The words blurred together. Her highlighter hovered uselessly above the page.She hadn't seen Kenzie since the kiss.Five days. Five days of rerunning the moment in her head — his hand on her face, his lips on hers, the way her keys had slipped from her fingers and clattered to the ground. Five days of not knowing what to say or how to say it. Five days of avoiding the places he might be.And now he was walking toward her table.She saw him before he saw her. Or maybe he did see her, and he was just better at pretending. He had a book under his arm, his bag slung over one s

CHAPTER 58: THE WEIGHT OF SILENCEThe corridor was empty.Maria stood at the intersection of two hallways, her hand pressed against the cold wall, her breath coming in short, shallow bursts. The exit door at the far end had stopped swinging. The parking lot outside was still. There was no grey suit. No familiar shoulders. No Sylvester.There was nothing.She had imagined it. She must have imagined it.But I saw him. I know I saw him.She pushed the exit door open again, stepped outside, scanned the parking lot one more time. A nurse smoking by the curb. An elderly man being wheeled toward a waiting car. A mother carrying a sleeping child.No Sylvester.Maria pressed her palm against her forehead. She was tired. Stressed. Still processing the chaos of the morning — Alfred, Francis, the secrets that kept piling up. Her mind was playing tricks on her.Or maybe it wasn't.She didn't know which possibility scared her more.Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out with trembling fi

CHAPTER 57: SEEING HER NIGHTMARE The morning had left Maria unbalanced.After Alfred's departure and the quiet, emotionally charged breakfast, she had retreated upstairs to shower and change. The hot water helped. The routine of getting ready — choosing a blouse, fixing her hair, applying the minimum makeup required to look professional — helped even more.By the time she stepped out the door, she felt almost like herself again.The office tower rose ahead of her, all glass and steel. She took the private elevator this time. No whispers. No sideways glances. Just the soft hum of machinery carrying her upward.The doors opened on the executive floor.Too quiet.Her desk sat empty, papers stacked neatly from the day before. The temporary secretary — Patricia, a girl brought in from one of the branches to cover while Maria was at the hospital — had left everything in order before returning to her original post. Maria was grateful for that, at least.Francis's office door was closed. No