The sound of rattling keys jolted Aurora from half-sleep.
"Innate 6948," the guard called, voice flat. "You've been cleared for release."
She didn't move.
Not at first.
Cleared?
Her eyes blinked open; lashes filled from years of dust and silence. She sat up slowly, back aching from concrete walls and cold nights. For a moment, she thought she was dreaming again.
"Let's go," the guard snapped. "You've got five minutes to pack your things."
Things?
She had none.
No pictures. No letters. Not even a name that anyone here used, just a number.
She stood.
He unlocked the door. The cuffs came off with a click. She rubbed her wrists slowly.
At the release desk, a box sat waiting, half-empty. Inside: a pair of worn heels, a bloodstained blouse, a photo frame, and a broken watch that hasn't ticked since the day she was arrested.
The guard handed her a paper.
"Sign here. Someone bails you out,"
She didn't ask who.
She didn't speak at all.
She took the box, turned around, and headed to the door. She opened the door.
And then...
Sunlight.
She squinted against it, nearly blinded. It had been so long. The wind hit her skin like knives. She forgot what warmth felt like.
Then she saw him.
Lucien Vale.
Leaning against a matte black car at the end of the pavement.
Tailored gray suit. Eyes like winter.
He removed his glasses slowly and watched as she approached him.
"Long time, no see," he said, voice low and smooth, the kind that could cut a throat.
She didn't move.
No smile touched her lips. Her eyes, sunken slightly from too many sleepless nights, locked onto his face like a trigger waiting for a reason.
The only word that made it past the desert of her throat was, "Were you the one who bailed me out?"
His mouth curled into a smirk, not warm, not kind. Just calculated.
"If I'm not the one," he murmured, stepping closer, "then who else would do it?"
His scent hit her next, something cold and expensive.
He didn't stop until he was right in front of her, their bodies separated by a breath.
He leaned in.
"Could it be," he said slowly, "you were hoping it was Zyrell?"
Her spine stiffened.
The cardboard box in her hand creaked under the strain of her grip.
But she said nothing.
Lucien leaned back against the car, arms folded, eyes locked on her.
"Go inside the car," he said coolly.
Aurora straightened.
"I'm not going inside," she said, her voice calm but firm. "I'm going home. Thanks for bailing me out. I'll never forget your... kindness."
She didn't look at him as she stepped past.
Lucien's brow creased. He watched her walk away.
Then he reached out and grabbed her wrist.
The cardboard box in her arms slipped from her grip and hit the floor, flaps bursting open. A photo frame cracked, and a bloodstained blouse skidded across the ground.
She looked at what had fallen on the ground.
"Do you think I bailed you out for free?" He asked, his voice lower now.
Aurora didn't flinch. She turned her face to him, eyes blazing with ice.
"I know it wasn't free," she snapped. "Don't worry. You know where I live, if you're that afraid I'll run away,"
He exhaled sharply through his nose, rubbing his temple like her stubbornness was both exhausting and maddening.
"Aurora," his voice gritted with restraint. "Get inside the car, and let's have a good talk."
She laughed, a cold, bitter sound.
"Have a good talk?" she repeated. "Lucien, what the hell can we possibly talk about? You and me? We've got nothing to say to each other."
Then quietly.
"I'd rather die than enter your car."
She yanked her arm from his grip, but her face was stone. She bent to her knees, slowly gathering the scattered contents of the box.
Her fingers brushed over the broken picture frame; its glass scattered diagonally through the center. She carefully lifted the photo inside.
In it, she was smiling.
And so was he.
Her voice trembled as it left her lips. "Do you love me?" she had asked that day, desperation hidden beneath a hopeful smile. "If you don't love me... just tell me. I'll quietly leave."
Zyrell had pulled her into his arms.
"If I don't love you," he whispered into her hair, "who else would I love?"
He pulled back, brushing a thumb against her cheek. "As for Penelope... she's the past. You..." he nudged her nose with a boyish grin, "you're my present."
She had believed him.
She had smiled.
"Let's take a picture... so I'll always remember the moment you said that."
He laughed, light and careless. "Alright, I'm fine with that."
"Cheese," she said, lifting the camera.
Click.
Back in the present, Aurora blinked and didn't realize the tears had begun falling until one landed on the photo.
She wiped it away quickly, stuffing the picture back into the box. She gathered the rest of her belongings, then rose to her feet and walked away without looking back.
Lucien didn't move.
He stood by the car, his face unreadable, hands clenched at his sides as he watched her disappear into the distance.
His jaw tightened.
"You'd rather die than enter my car?" He muttered, the corner of his lip curling with something between anger and amusement.
"I hope you keep that word."
He turned, opened the door, and slid into the driver's seat.
Aurora walked alone.
The city's eyes followed her: men, women, whispers. But she didn't notice.
She'd been through worse.
Stares were nothing compared to handcuffs and betrayal.
What did Lucien want from her? She couldn't say. But she knew one thing for sure:
It wouldn't be good.
She exhaled slowly and tightened her grip on the box. She would deal with him later. First, she had to see her family.
She walked through winding streets and past familiar corners until, hours later, she reached the gate of the estate of her house.
She rang the bell once. Then again.
No answer.
Her brows furrowed as she touched the gate.
Unlocked.
That was strange.
It had never been left open before.
She pushed through cautiously. As she neared the house, the sound of loud music poured from inside.
She knocked sharply on the front door. Once. Twice. Three times.
Finally, the door opened.
A housemaid stood in the frame, mouth dropping open.
"M-Miss," she stammered, eyes wide with disbelief.
The music cut off. Silence followed, sharp and awkward.
Aurora leaned slightly.
Then her heart stopped.
Her jaw slackened as her eyes locked onto two figures inside.
The one who ruined her life.
And the one who promised to protect her.
Together.
Laughing.