The medical corridor was quiet.
Soft lights.
Low hum of machines.
Everything controlled.
Leah sat beside the bed.
Close.
Always close.
Izana rested against the pillows.
Awake.
Calm.
His arm still.
The cast—
Covered in ink.
Hearts.
Words.
Small drawings that didn't belong there.
But stayed anyway.
His gaze lingered on them.
A quiet second.
Then—
"…You're still looking."
Leah's voice. Soft.
"…It's distracting."
"…That means you like it."
A pause.
"…I didn't say that."
"…You didn't have to."
A faint shift in his expression.
Small.
But real.
She noticed.
Of course she did.
Her fingers brushed lightly against the cast.
Careful.
"…Does it hurt?"
"A little."
"…That's not reassuring."
"…It's honest."
"…I don't like honest when it sounds like that."
"…You'll survive."
"…Barely."
A quiet breath left him.
Almost a laugh.
A knock.
Soft.
Leah's head turned.
"…Come in."
The doctor stepped inside.
Calm.
Professional.
His gaze moved straight to Izana's arm.
Checking.
Assessing.
"…How are you feeling?"
"Fine."
Leah glanced at him.
"…He's not fine."
"…Manageable," Izana corrected.
The doctor nodded slightly.
"…That's expected. The procedure went well. The bone is aligned. Healing will take time, but everything is stable."
Leah's shoulders eased.
Just slightly.
"…So he stays here?"
The doctor shook his head.
"…No. He can leave the medical corridor."
A pause.
"…Today?"
"…Now."
Leah blinked once.
Then looked at Izana.
He was already shifting.
Testing.
Careful.
"…Good," he said.
Leah stood immediately.
"…You're not walking alone."
"…I wasn't planning to."
"…Good."
The hallway stretched ahead.
Quiet.
Still.
Leah walked beside him.
Close.
Not touching.
But ready.
Always ready.
Izana moved steadily.
Measured steps.
Controlled breathing.
"…You're watching me again."
"…I'm making sure you don't fall."
"…I won't."
"…You might."
"…Unlikely."
She glanced at him.
"…You're injured."
"…I noticed."
"…Then slow down."
A pause.
Then—
He slowed.
Just enough.
Her shoulders relaxed.
Barely.
But enough.
They reached their room.
The door opened.
Familiar space.
Warm light.
Quiet comfort.
Leah stepped in first.
A quick scan.
Instinct.
Then she turned.
"…Come in."
Izana followed.
The door closed behind them.
A softer silence.
Different from the corridor.
This felt like theirs.
Leah moved immediately.
Adjusting pillows.
Fixing the blanket.
Straightening everything.
"…Sit."
"I was going to."
"…Now."
A faint pause.
Then he sat.
Carefully.
Leah watched every movement.
Every shift.
"…You're doing too much," he noted.
"…You're doing too little."
"…That's intentional."
"…Not anymore."
A knock.
Sharper this time.
Leah turned.
"…Come in."
The door opened.
Dante stepped inside.
No smirk.
No teasing.
Just focus.
Leah noticed instantly.
"…What is it?"
Dante's gaze moved to Izana.
Then back.
"…We need to talk."
The air shifted.
Subtle.
But heavy.
Izana didn't move.
"…Then talk."
Dante stepped further in.
The door shut behind him.
"…We reviewed the attack."
Leah's fingers stilled slightly.
"…And?"
"…It wasn't random."
"…We know that," Izana replied.
"…There's more."
A pause.
Then—
"We found the pattern."
Leah's gaze sharpened.
"…What pattern?"
Dante exhaled slowly.
"…It matches Caesar."
Silence.
Immediate.
Heavy.
Izana shook his head slightly.
"…That doesn't make sense."
"…I know."
"…He's been dead for months."
"…Three," Dante said.
"…Exactly."
Another pause.
Longer this time.
Then—
"…We think we missed someone."
Leah's breath caught slightly.
"…From the betrayal?"
"Yes."
Izana's gaze didn't change.
But something behind it did.
Sharper.
Colder.
"…That was handled," he said.
"…We thought it was."
"…It was."
Dante held his gaze.
"…Not completely."
Leah stepped closer.
"…You're saying someone survived?"
"…Or hid," Dante replied.
"…Either way, they're active now."
Her chest tightened.
"…And they knew where he was."
"Yes."
"…They knew the room."
"Yes."
"…The timing."
"Yes."
Silence pressed in again.
"…Then they know everything," she murmured.
No one disagreed.
Izana leaned back slightly.
Thinking.
Calculating.
Even now.
Even like this.
"…A name," he said.
Dante hesitated.
Just for a second.
Then—
"…There's one file that doesn't match."
Leah frowned slightly.
"…What do you mean?"
"…Listed as neutralized."
A pause.
"…No confirmation."
Silence.
Heavier now.
"…Say it," Izana said quietly.
Dante's jaw tightened.
"…Kairo."
The name landed.
Wrong.
It didn't belong in the present.
But it was here.
Leah felt it immediately.
"…He was close to you," she said softly.
A small pause.
"…Yes," Izana replied.
"…Too close," Dante added.
Leah's fingers tightened slightly at her side.
"…He knows the mansion."
"Yes."
"…Knows how you operate."
"Yes."
"…Then this wasn't just an attack."
"No," Dante said.
"…It was a message."
The room felt smaller.
Tighter.
Leah stepped closer to Izana.
Standing beside him now.
Her presence steady.
Grounding.
"…He won't get near you," she said quietly.
Izana glanced at her.
A brief look.
Softened.
Then gone.
"…No," he agreed.
Then—
"…Security?"
"Already tightened," Dante replied.
"…Perimeter, staff, systems. Everything's under watch."
"…Not enough," Izana said.
Dante nodded once.
"…We're expanding it."
Leah exhaled slowly.
Trying to steady herself.
"…What happens now?"
Dante looked at her.
"…We find him."
"…And if he comes here?"
A pause.
"…He won't leave."
That was enough.
Leah didn't ask more.
Izana's gaze remained steady.
Focused.
"…He made a mistake."
Dante's brow lifted slightly.
"…Showing himself?"
"…Coming back," Izana replied.
A pause.
"…Finish it."
Simple.
Clear.
Dante nodded.
"…I will."
Silence returned.
But not the same silence.
Not calm.
Not safe.
This one held weight.
A shift.
A warning.
Leah's hand moved.
Resting lightly against Izana's shoulder.
Careful of his arm.
"…You should rest," she murmured.
A pause.
"…Later."
Her fingers pressed slightly.
Not forceful.
Just enough.
A reminder.
He felt it.
Of course he did.
"…I will," he added quietly.
That was enough.
For now.
Dante stepped back.
Heading toward the door.
"…I'll update you soon."
"…Do that," Izana replied.
The door opened.
Then closed again.
The room fell quiet.
Leah didn't move immediately.
Just stood there.
Thinking.
Processing.
Then—
She looked at the cast again.
At the hearts.
The words.
The small, quiet moments from earlier.
Still there.
Untouched.
"…We were just joking," she murmured.
"…We still can."
She looked at him.
"…Even now?"
"…Especially now."
A pause.
Then—
Her lips curved slightly.
"…You're impossible."
"…I've been told."
She sat beside him again.
Closer this time.
Her hand finding his.
Holding it.
Steady.
"…We'll handle it," she said quietly.
"…We will."
Simple.
Certain.
Outside—
Beyond the walls—
Something moved.
Unseen.
Patient.
Watching.
Kairo was alive.
And this time—
He wasn't hiding.