MasukAira had learned something very early after Zayn was born. Silence could feel safer than truth. Especially when truth had consequences. The apartment was quiet that morning, soft sunlight filtering through the curtains and falling in thin lines across the kitchen floor. Zayn sat at the counter eating breakfast, completely absorbed in his dinosaur book, his voice breaking the stillness every few seconds with innocent excitement. “Mum, this one can run very fast.” Aira glanced over, forcing a small smile. “Faster than you?” Zayn thought about it seriously. “Maybe.” That almost made her laugh. Almost. Her phone buzzed on the counter. Unknown Number. The smile faded instantly. Aira didn’t move for a second. Just stared at it, like if she didn’t acknowledge it, it would stop existing. Then she picked it up. No text preview. Just an image. She opened it. And everything in her chest went still. Zayn. Yesterday. Walking out of school. Captured from
Lucien had spent years believing silence was control. If he ignored something long enough, buried it deeply enough, eventually it would stop existing. That was how he survived the last three years. He worked longer hours. Expanded the company. Filled every empty space with something productive enough to keep his mind from wandering backward. It worked. Until Aira came back into his life. Until Zayn. Until one impossible resemblance turned old grief into something far more dangerous. Doubt. The office was nearly dark now, illuminated only by the city lights stretching endlessly beyond the windows. A soft rain had started sometime after midnight, tapping faintly against the glass in an uneven rhythm that somehow made the silence heavier instead of softer. Lucien sat alone behind his desk, the reopened case file spread in front of him. He had reread the same pages three times already. Not because he was searching for answers. Because he was searching for consisten
Aira didn’t realize she was staring until Zayn spoke again. “Mum?” She blinked and looked down at the drawing in his hands once more. Three figures. Him. Her. Lucien. Zayn followed her gaze quickly before speaking again, almost defensively. “Uncle Adrian was supposed to be there too, but I ran out of space.” Something in her chest tightened unexpectedly. Not because of what he said. Because of how quickly he felt the need to explain it. Aira forced a softer expression and brushed a hand lightly through his hair. “It’s okay, baby. It’s a nice drawing.” Zayn grinned immediately, satisfied with her answer, before jumping off the couch and running toward his room again. “I’m going to color it!” “Okay,” she replied quietly. The apartment fell silent again after he disappeared. Aira remained seated for a moment longer, her thoughts slower now. He was getting attached. Not carefully. Not cautiously. Naturally. And that was the dangerous part. Becau
Lucien didn’t call ahead. He didn’t need to. By the time he arrived, the house was quiet in the controlled, deliberate way it always was. The lights were dim but intentional, the space arranged with the kind of precision that suggested nothing was ever left to chance. Selene liked order. She liked knowing exactly where everything stood. Including people. He let himself in without knocking. She was in the living room, seated comfortably with one leg crossed over the other, a glass of water resting lightly between her fingers. The television was on, muted, the moving images casting soft light across the room. When she looked up and saw him, she didn’t startle. She didn’t even look surprised. If anything, there was the faintest trace of expectation in her expression. “You’re early,” she said, her tone easy, almost conversational. Lucien closed the door behind him, the soft click echoing just enough to shift the atmosphere. His gaze settled on her, steady and unreadable.
Aira did not go straight home after picking Zayn up. She sat in the car for a few minutes, the engine running, her hands resting on the steering wheel while Zayn talked beside her about something that had happened in class. She responded when needed, nodded at the right moments, but her mind was somewhere else entirely. What she had seen that morning—and what Zayn had confirmed that afternoon—didn’t leave room for doubt anymore. This wasn’t coincidence. This wasn’t harmless curiosity. This was deliberate. By the time she finally pulled out of the school parking lot, her thoughts had settled into something steady and clear. Whatever this was, she wasn’t going to wait for it to escalate before doing something about it. The apartment felt quieter than usual that evening. Zayn had finished his homework and was stretched out on the living room floor, completely absorbed in a cartoon, his laughter breaking through every now and then in short, careless bursts. Aira stood
Aira woke up with the same feeling she had gone to bed with. Not fear. Not even worry. Just awareness. It sat quietly at the back of her mind, refusing to leave, no matter how much she tried to ignore it. The memory of the previous night replayed in fragments—the kitchen, the silence, the look on Lucien’s face when his phone rang. She pushed the thought aside and got out of bed. There were more immediate things to focus on. By the time Zayn shuffled into the kitchen, still half-asleep and dragging his feet, breakfast was already ready. “Morning,” she said, setting a glass of juice in front of him. “Morning,” he mumbled, climbing into his chair. For a while, everything felt normal. The quiet rhythm of the morning settled in easily—small sounds, familiar movements, nothing out of place. Until Zayn spoke again. “Mum?” Aira glanced up. “Yes?” He hesitated, like he was trying to remember something properly. “There was a woman at school yesterday.” Aira’s hand paus
Aira didn’t sleep well that night. It wasn’t because anything had gone wrong. That would have been easier to deal with. Instead, it was the opposite. Nothing had happened. And somehow, that was worse. Her mind kept replaying the conversation with Lucien in small, quiet fragments. The
It wasn’t the extra five minutes that stayed with Aira. It should have been something that small, something easy to dismiss. A moment of softness, a harmless extension, nothing more than a child wanting to stay a little longer at the park. But that wasn’t what unsettled her. It was how easi
The next message didn’t come immediately, and somehow that made Aira more uneasy than if it had. For three days, everything stayed exactly as it was supposed to. The schedule held. The boundaries remained intact. Lucien showed up when he was meant to, left when the time was over, and didn’t att
The quiet after the café didn’t feel like peace. It felt like something waiting. For a few days, everything stayed exactly the way it was supposed to be. Messages were short. Polite. Scheduled. Lucie







