sting pulsing in her temples. She winced, pressing a hand to her head, her face scrunching in discomfort. A faint hiss escaped her lips as she slowly sat up on the bed.

Last night’s incident came rushing back in fragments—the restaurant, the ketchup, the panic.

Her heart sank.

Why did I behave like that? The shame curled in her stomach. Alejendro must be so embarrassed of me...

She looked down and blinked in confusion. She wasn’t in her dress anymore. Instead, she was wearing one of Alejendro’s oversized T-shirts. Her brows furrowed.

Did… did he change my clothes?

She bit her lower lip, suddenly self-conscious, heat rising to her cheeks.

Of course he did. I was a mess…

Her eyes drifted toward the bedside table—and paused.

A glass of lemonade sat there, condensation dripping down the sides. Fresh. Chilled.

Her lips lifted slightly into a soft smile. He’s really thoughtful...

She took a sip, the tart coolness soothing her throat, and after a few minutes, her headache began to fade. Placing the glass back, she rose from the bed and padded toward the washroom to freshen up, her steps still a bit unsteady but lighter than before.

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Maya stepped into the hall, her eyes falling on Alejendro sitting calmly on the living room couch. A cup of black coffee rested in his hand, the steam curling lazily into the air. Her steps faltered slightly, shame prickling under her skin.

God, after everything last night…

Alejendro seemed to sense her presence. He looked up, and the moment their eyes met, he offered that familiar half-smile—casual, charming, yet softened with concern.

Maya returned a small smile of her own, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she walked over and sat on the couch opposite him.

“Hey,” she said, her voice light but unsure.

Alejendro’s eyes lingered on her. His usual hunter-like gaze had lost its sharp edge, replaced by a strange kind of gentleness.

“How are you feeling now?” he asked.

She nodded, folding her hands in her lap.

“Better.”

He gave a short nod, but didn’t look away. His eyes still rested on her face, quietly observant.

Maya fiddled with her fingers, the silence stretching.

“Uh… Alejendro…” she began hesitantly, glancing at him. “I’m really sorry for last night. I—I don’t know what happened to me. It was like my brain just—” Her words crumbled before she could finish. She looked at him helplessly, guilt flickering in her eyes.

Alejendro raised his brows, his expression unreadable.

“Maya,” he said evenly. “You’re sick. These things happen. It’s normal.”

She stared at him, her breath hitching slightly.

“You… you’re not embarrassed?” she asked quietly.

His eyes narrowed, as if she’d said something absurd.

“No,” he said firmly. “Why would I be?”

Relief flooded her. She let out a breath and smiled—small, but genuine.

“I just thought…” she trailed off, shaking her head. “Never mind.”

Alejendro exhaled through his nose and gave a quiet nod, as if to say the conversation was settled.

Alejendro looked at her for a moment.

“Want a coffee?” he asked.

Maya nodded quickly. He raised one brow in response, that ever-so-charming smirk tugging at the corner of his lips before he turned and walked into the kitchen.

Without thinking, Maya followed him.

She watched as he began to brew the coffee—measured, focused, unhurried. How could someone look so effortlessly handsome doing something so mundane? Maya shook her head slightly, trying to pull herself out of the spell.

To distract herself, she asked, “You didn’t go to the hospital today?”

Alejendro glanced at her over his shoulder. “Took a day off.”

“Oh…” she replied, a little surprised.

He turned back and held out the coffee cup toward her. As she reached for it, their fingers brushed—warm, brief, but enough to send a jolt up her spine. Their eyes met. Alejendro’s gaze darkened, turning intense in a heartbeat. That hunter-like focus returned, burning into her.

Maya’s breath caught. She looked away and mumbled, “Uhh… thanks.”

He gave a small nod, then leaned against the counter, sipping his own coffee in silence.

She cleared her throat and took a sip of hers, the warmth grounding her.

Then his voice broke the quiet.

“After you finish the coffee, get ready.”

Maya looked up, startled. “For what?”

“We’re going on a day out,” he said simply.

Her eyes widened. That she hadn't expected—not after last night’s chaos.

“You… still want to go out with me?” she asked cautiously, her voice laced with surprise.

Alejendro looked at her, something flickering behind his eyes. “Why wouldn’t I?”

She blinked, taken aback, and for a second, forgot how to respond.

Maya let out a nervous laugh, a flicker of playfulness in her voice to mask the embarrassment.

“I was behaving like a mad person last night.”

Alejendro's smile faded. His steps echoed as he walked toward her—slow, deliberate. Maya instinctively took a step back. And another. Until the counter pressed against her back, halting her retreat.

He didn’t stop until he was right in front of her, so close she could feel the warmth radiating off his skin. The usual warmth in his eyes was gone—replaced by something serious. Intense. Raw.

Her playful expression vanished. Her eyes widened, like a deer caught in the wolf’s gaze.

“Never call yourself mad, Maya,” Alejendro said, voice low and steady. “You’re just healing.”

She parted her lips to speak, but no sound came. His presence, his nearness—it swallowed her words.

“I… I am…” she managed, her voice barely a whisper.

His gaze drifted over her face—studying, memorizing. Maya's heart thundered in her chest as he leaned in, slow and deliberate. His breath fanned across her skin.

She froze, breath hitching.

And then—soft, barely there—his lips brushed her cheek.

Maya’s eyes fluttered closed at the gentle touch, her body reacting before her mind could catch up.

He pulled back, his voice just above a whisper.

“I’ll be waiting in the car.”

With that, he turned and walked away.

Maya stood still, her fingers twitching at her sides, her heart trying to catch up to itself.

What just happened…?

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“No, sir. They were a happy couple. I don’t think anyone had any enmity with them. And the girl… Maya—she was such a sweet child.”

The elderly woman from the apartment complex spoke with conviction, her voice trembling slightly. Detective Ian Lutolf stood with a furrowed brow, his arms crossed as he listened carefully. It had been a week. A full week, and not a single solid lead. No bodies. No witnesses. No Maya Fernandez.

He asked quietly, “Did you hear any gunshots? Screaming?”

The woman frowned in thought. “No… no screaming.”

Ian clenched his jaw, exhaling in quiet frustration. His mind was a storm of unanswered questions—until the woman’s eyes suddenly widened.

“But… yes—now that I think of it, Maya seemed… off. For a few days before the incident. She was Scared.”

Ian’s attention snapped toward her. “Scared? Why? Did you ask her?”

She nodded. “Yes, I did. But she didn’t say anything. She just smiled like always and brushed it off. But I noticed it. And… she used to go to the nearby park every Sunday without fail. But that Sunday… she didn’t even step outside. As if something—or someone—had her too scared to move.”

Ian’s thoughts began to spiral. The puzzle pieces weren’t fitting, but this—this was something. Finally.

“Thank you,” he said curtly, already turning.

Outside, his assistant Ana followed closely.

“This case feels like a blend of tragedy and suspense,” she muttered, glancing at the notepad in her hand.

Ian didn’t respond immediately. His eyes were distant—focused. Then his voice came, sharp and commanding.

“Check the park. Find everyone who’s ever seen her there. Friends. Strangers. Vendors. I want everything.”

Ana nodded, understanding the urgency in his tone.

The mystery was no longer just a disappearance.

It was something darker.

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The car ride is silent.

Neither of them speaks. Maya keeps her gaze fixed outside the window, avoiding Alejendro’s occasional glances. He drives steadily, but his eyes flicker toward her from time to time, as if he wants to say something—but doesn’t.

The silence feels heavier than usual. The tension between them has always been there, unspoken… charged. But today, it feels thicker, almost suffocating.

Finally, the car slows and comes to a stop.

Maya steps out, and her eyes widen at the sight before her.

A beach.

The sound of waves crashing gently against the shore greets her ears. The air smells like salt and peace. Her lips curve into a soft smile. She already loves this place.

Alejendro rounds the car and walks toward her, slipping on his sunglasses.

“You like it?” he asks, his voice calm but watchful.

Maya glances at him, a genuine smile breaking through. “Yeah… I do.”

Without waiting, she runs toward the water, laughing softly. The breeze catches her hair, the sunlight kisses her skin, and for a moment—just a moment—she feels free.

She slips off her sandals, letting the cool waves wash over her bare feet. The sand sinks beneath her toes, grounding her.

Maya turned and saw Alejendro standing at a distance, hands in his pockets, watching her.

A mischievous grin formed on her lips.

Suddenly, she scooped up a splash of seawater and flung it in his direction.

Alejendro flinched, completely caught off guard.

Her laughter rang out, light and playful.

“The water is calling you, Mr. Neuro,” she teased, splashing him again.

Alejendro slowly removed his sunglasses, one brow arched, eyes locked on her.

“Oh, really?” he said, voice low.

Then, without warning, he took off toward her.

Maya let out a squeal and turned on her heel, running barefoot across the shoreline, waves chasing her feet. Laughter echoed between them like music.

Mid-run, her gaze caught something colorful near the edge of the boardwalk.

“Oysters!” she gasped, her eyes lighting up with excitement.

Without waiting, she dashed toward the small vendor stall, her joy childlike and unfiltered.

“Let’s eat this!” she called out behind her.

Alejendro slowed as he caught up, his lips twitching into an amused smile as he followed.

Maya slurped the oyster with delight, letting out a soft moan of satisfaction.

“Oh my god… this is so good.”

She picked one up and offered it to Alejendro.

“Try it,” she said, eyes gleaming.

Alejendro didn’t take his eyes off her as he accepted it and took a bite. For a moment, everything felt normal—almost peaceful. The breeze danced through Maya’s hair, sweeping loose strands across her face.

She giggled and tried to brush them away, but before she could, Alejendro reached out. His fingers were gentle as he tucked the strands behind her ear. Maya froze midair, oyster still in her hand, eyes locked on his.

Their gaze held.

The noise of the world faded for a second.

And then—

“Maya!”

A feminine voice sliced through the moment.

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