Ruz's POV
The hospital cafeteria was louder than it should have been for eight in the morning.
Plastic trays scraped against tables. Coffee machines hissed in the background. Nurses hurried past with exhausted expressions.
And somehow, despite everything that had happened, we looked like a group of teenagers having breakfast.
A very injured group of teenagers.
Nika was halfway through her second plate of food.
"I almost died," she declared, pointing her fork at anyone who dared judge her. "These are emotional support pancakes."
"You had rice," Mira pointed out.
"I contain multitudes."
Across from her, Diego blinked.
"Is that your third juice box?"
"It is called recovery."
"It is called theft," Mira corrected.
Nika gasped. "I am a victim."
"You fought three grown men with a chair."
"Exactly."
"You were the chair."
"I was a weapon."
Beside me, Liam snorted into his water.
It was the first genuine laugh I'd heard from him since last night.
Good.
Kuya Azmain rubbed both hands over his face.
"You know," he said tiredly, "most people recover from traumatic experiences by resting."
"We are resting," Enzo replied.
"You are arguing over juice boxes."
"Healthy coping mechanisms come in many forms," Adrian said calmly.
Kuya stared at him.
"...I am adopting a cactus."
"It will leave too," Rifat muttered.
Adrian coughed to hide his laugh.
Zayn didn't even bother.
Kuya looked personally offended.
"I take care of all of you," he complained.
"You willingly chose this life," I said.
"I chose Adrian."
"You got a package deal," Adrian answered.
"I would like a refund."
"You lost the receipt years ago," Marco said.
Kuya closed his eyes.
"I need stronger painkillers."
The humor faded gradually.
Reality settled back over the table.
Kuya leaned forward slightly.
"You all need to stay alert."
No one interrupted.
"Kairo is still out there. Until he's caught, you don't go anywhere alone. You keep your phones charged. You tell someone where you're going."
"We know," Josh said quietly.
"No," Azmain replied. "You understand, but I don't think you know."
His gaze moved around the table.
"You were lucky."
The cafeteria suddenly felt colder.
"You fought well," he continued. "But luck was also on your side. Don't rely on it happening twice."
Silence.
Then Nika slowly raised her hand.
"If I fight eighteen people next time instead of fifteen, does that count as improvement?"
"...Please stop talking."
"I'll take that as a yes."
A few hours later, the police arrived.
We gathered in Liam's hospital room, though "gathered" wasn't exactly the right word.
We were crowded.
Liam was back in his bed, looking mildly horrified by the number of people occupying his room.
"There are too many of you," he said weakly.
"We saved your life," Nika replied immediately.
"You say that every five minutes."
"Because it's true."
The door opened again.
Officer Isabella Flores walked inside.
Nika immediately straightened.
"Oh no."
The officer adjusted her cap before fixing her daughter with an unimpressed stare.
"You jumped into a gang fight."
"...Technically, yes."
"You used a fire extinguisher as a weapon."
"...Allegedly."
"Nika Isabel Flores."
"It was self-defense."
"It was property damage."
"It can be both."
"Nika."
"...Sorry."
Mira leaned toward me.
"This is the happiest I've been all day."
I almost smiled.
Behind Officer Flores came another familiar face.Detective Christian Garcia.
Mira immediately sat up straighter.
"...Dad."
The detective looked at her broken finger.
Then at the bruises.Then at the exhausted teenagers filling Liam's room.
He sighed.
"Your mother is never letting you leave the house again."
"Dad…"
"No. I'm speaking as a parent right now."
"You're literally a detective."
"And as a detective, this paperwork is going to destroy me."
Mira looked mildly guilty.
Only mildly.
The statements took hours.
One by one, we described what happened.
The kidnapping, the warehouse, the fight, about Kairo.
Every detail mattered.
Officer Flores listened carefully.
Detective Garcia asked questions none of us had considered.
Together, they pieced together the timeline.
By the time they finished, everyone looked exhausted again.
Detective Garcia closed his notebook.
"You all did something incredibly dangerous."
No one argued.
"But you also saved a life."
His eyes settled briefly on Liam.
"Next time, call the police first."
Nika raised her hand.
"There won't be a next time."
Everyone stared at her.
"...Hopefully," she added.
Officer Flores pointed at her daughter.
"House arrest."
"What?"
"You heard me."
"But Mom…"
"You fought criminals."
"They started it!"
"You finished it."
Nika looked betrayed.
"I cannot believe you're taking their side."
"I'm taking the side of common sense."
Nika gasped dramatically.
"I don't know this woman anymore."
Officer Flores looked at kuya.
"How do you deal with this?"
Kuya stared blankly into the distance.
"I don't."
After the officers left, silence filled the room.
Then Liam cleared his throat.
"Does anyone else think it's weird that our parental figures are becoming friends?"
"They're trauma bonding," Adrian replied.
"They're stress bonding," Mira corrected.
"They're planning our funerals," Josh said.
"Accurate," Zayn muttered.
Near the doorway, kuya was speaking quietly with Officer Flores and Detective Garcia.
Across the room, Nika pointed at them.
"They're forming an alliance."
"We should be afraid," Mira said.
"We are afraid," Enzo corrected.
I leaned back against the wall, watching everyone.
Liam, pale but laughing.
Josh arguing with Diego over who threw the better punch.
Nika loudly protests her impending house arrest.
Mira is already planning how to bypass it.
Aira listened quietly.
Rifat pretending not to care.
Adrian standing beside me.
For a brief moment.
The fear eased.
Kairo was still out there.
There were still questions waiting for answers.
But for now...
We were together.
The car ride home was silent.
I sat in the back seat, my head against the window, watching the city blur past. The streets were emptier now. The sun was setting, painting everything in shades of orange and gold.
Adrian sat beside me. His arms were crossed, eyes were closed. But he wasn't sleeping, as always.
Kuya drove the car. His hands were steady on the wheel, his eyes fixed on the road. He hadn't spoken since we left the hospital.
My knuckles throbbed beneath their bandages. My ribs ached with every breath.
The moment we arrived and stepped inside the house, the silence shattered all around.
Tita was waiting in the living room. Her arms were crossed. Her eyes were red from crying or anger or maybe both,Tito stood behind her.
They had been waiting.
Since last night, Kuya had called them from the hospital, he told them what had happened,
And now they were seeing us bandaged, bruised, exhausted and the fear they had been holding in was finally breaking free.
"Come here," Tita said.
Her voice was quiet. Too quiet.
I walked toward her. Adrian followed.
She grabbed both of us, pulled us into a hug so tight and like she was afraid we would disappear if she let go.
"Do you have any idea," she said, her voice cracking, "how scared we were? Azmain called us and said there was a fight, and you were in the hospital,"
She stopped. Swallowed. Pulled back.
Her eyes moved across our faces, our bandages, our bruises.
"What do you think you are?" she demanded. "Going after armed men? Fighting professionals? With no backup? No plan?"
"We had a plan," Adrian said.
"What plan?"
"Win."
Tita stared at him.
Then she slapped his arm. Hard.
"Ow….."
"That's not a plan! That's your hope!"
Adrian rubbed his arm. "It worked."
"It worked this time! What if something had gone wrong? What if…." Her voice broke.
The room went quiet.
Tito stepped forward. His face was serious, there was only fear, anger, and love wrapped together so tightly that none of them could be separated.
"Your mother is right," he said. "You took a risk. You put yourselves in danger. You put your friends in danger. And you did it, without telling anyone where you were going or what you were doing."
He paused.
"We are not angry because you saved your friend. We are angry because you almost got yourselves in danger."
No one spoke.
Because he was right.
Kuya walked in from the kitchen. He had changed clothes at some point, a fresh shirt, clean pants but the exhaustion was still there, etched into every line of his face.
"I called them from the hospital," he said. "Told them everything. The warehouse. The fight."
Tita looked at us. Her eyes were wet, but her voice was steady.
"Go upstairs," she said. "Take a shower and get some rest. We will talk later."
We nodded, and went upstairs.
The shower helped.
I stood under the spray for a long time, watching the water swirl down the drain, thinking about nothing and everything at the same time.
When I finally stepped out, my skin was pink and my fingers were wrinkled. I dried off, changed into loose clothes, and collapsed onto my bed.
The ceiling stared back at me.
White. Blank. Empty.
My mind was not empty.
Kairo.
That name kept circling in my head. He was out there somewhere hiding, planning, waiting. He had tried to hurt Liam. He had almost succeeded. And now he knew our faces.
People like Kairo did not forget, did not forgive.
The police were searching. What if they can't find him?"
I thought about Liam.
About his pale face in the hospital bed. About the way he had smiled, small, tired, but real. About the way he had changed the topic when I asked how he knew about my trauma.
He knew something.
But how?
Nobody knew about my trauma. Only Tita, Tito, Kuya, Adrian knew.
Then how did Liam know?
I let him coz….
A knock on my door.
"Come in," I said.
Adrian walked in. He had showered too, his hair was still damp, his bandages were fresh. His expression was tired.
But his eyes were awake.
"You are still awake," he said.
" You too," I replied.
He walked to my bed and sat down.
"I was thinking about Kairo," he said.
"Same here."
"He was planning to kill him, you know." I stared at the ceiling. "Liam. If we hadn't reached on time…"
Adrian nodded. His jaw tightened.
My hands curled into fists.
"Liam is in danger," I said. "We need to be with him. All the time. We should protect him."
Adrian looked at me.
"Should we inform the boss?"
I shook my head.
"No. I'm in now. Let me handle this."
"Are you sure?" His voice was careful. "You are still on their target. You know that, they are still looking for you. If they spot you….."
"I don't care." My voice was flat. Final. "It was your so-called boss who was worried for me."
Adrian's eyes narrowed.
"Hoy. Be respectful. He is our boss."
"He knows I can handle that" I replied "yet he still pushes me away. I don't care if they spot me. Let them".
He sighed. Rubbed his face with his hands.
"At least be alert," he said. "Please. Just… be careful."
I looked at him.
"I will," I said.
A pause.
We sat in silence for a moment. The house was quiet around us, no footsteps, no voices, no chaos. Just the soft hum of the air conditioner and the distant sound of cars passing outside.
Then I spoke again.
"You know, Liam knows something about me," I said.
Adrian turned to look at me.
"What do you mean?"
"In the warehouse. When I zoned out. When I almost…" I stopped. "He snapped me out of it. He knew what was happening. But when I asked him how he knew, he changed the topic."
Adrian's expression shifted.
"Should we confront him?"
"No." I shook my head "I asked him. He didn't want to answer. For now, we just watch. I don't think he knows more than my trauma. But…" I hesitated.
We both quiet for a moment.
Then he lay back on the bed. Beside me. Not touching just there.
We both stared at the ceiling.
"Are you with me in this?" I asked.
He didn't hesitate.
"As if I have any other option."
I smirked slightly. "No."
We both smiled.
Small. Tired. Real.
Then I spoke again. Quieter this time.
"You know… when I triggered in the warehouse… I heard something. Voices. From my past, maybe. I don't know."
Adrian sat up so fast I almost flinched.
"What?" His eyes were wide. "What did you hear? Did you remember something? Tell me. Maybe I can help. Maybe we can…."
"Calm down," I said, sitting up slowly. My ribs protested. I ignored them. "You are more panicked than I am."
He stared at me. His breathing was faster now. His hands were gripping the blanket.
"I didn't remember much," I said. "Just… voices. This time, a woman's voice."
Adrian's face went pale.
"A woman? But…. there was no one there. When we reached it was just you and the men and….."
"She was begging," I interrupted. "Begging him. For me. She was requesting…. " I closed my eyes, trying to remember. "...leave her alone. She's just a kid. And he said…. he said he wanted something from us. From both of us. And then he said…."
I stopped.
My throat was tight.
"He said he would kill us. Once he got what he wanted."
Adrian's hand found my shoulder. Squeezed gently.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
I nodded.
I wasn't.
But I nodded anyway.
We lay back down. Side by side. Staring at the ceiling.
"You should go with kuya," Adrian said quietly. "To the doctor. Just… try it. At once."
I shook my head. "No ... .i can't."
"It was my fault," he said, his voice heavy with guilt.
"No." My voice was firm. "It wasn't. Don't blame yourself."
"Still."
The word hung in the air between us.
We didn't speak after that.
Eventually, the silence deepened. Adrian's breathing slowed. His eyes closed.
I stayed awake a little longer.
Staring at the ceiling.
Thinking about Kairo. About Liam. About the woman's voice in my head.
About all the things I couldn't remember.
And all the things I couldn't forget.
The next morning.
We arrived at the hospital together less like students, more like a gang trying way too hard to look calm.
Bruises still marked our faces and arms but we walked in like nothing mattered. Chips, Fried chicken, French fries.
and drinks filled our hands, and Josh carried a small bouquet in one hand for our little brat.
The nurses tensed the moment they saw us.
Then recognition hit.
And just like that fear turned into tired relief.
The hospital still smelled like antiseptic and sadness.
When we walked into Liam's room, he was sitting up in bed, looking better than yesterday, His eyes were sharper. His complaints were louder.
Which meant he was recovering.
"You brought food," he said, eyeing the bags in our hands. His eyes lit up with desperate hope. "Real food. Please tell me that's real food."
Diago held up a bag.
"Fried chicken."
Liam almost cried. "I love you."
"It's not for you."
Liam's face fell. "What?"
Nika pulled out a container. "French fries."
"And this," Mira said, holding up a cup, "is soda. Cold. Carbonated. Delicious."
"It's all for me"
"No."
Liam stared at us.
"Then why are you showing me?"
"To torture you," I said, pulling out my own container. "The doctor said you can only eat hospital food. Bland. Boring. Sad."
"This is cruel," Liam said.
"This is friendship," Adrian corrected.
Zayn walked in behind us. He looked at Liam. Then at the food. Then back at Liam.
"You look terrible," he said.
"I am being emotionally tortured by my friends."
"That is not new."
Rifat followed, he leaned against the wall, arms crossed.
"The nurse said you tried to escape this morning," he said.
Liam's face went red.
"I was not trying to escape. I was trying to walk. There is a difference."
"You were halfway down the hall in a hospital gown," Rifat said. "With your IV stand running outside."
"I was jogging. For health."
"Your health is the reason you are in the hospital."
Liam opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.
"I hate all of you," he said.
"No, you don't," Josh said, while handing him the bouquet.
Liam watched at the bouquet than at him.
"I hate you specifically," he said.
Josh smiled. "Fair."
We sat around Liam's bed, on chairs, on the windowsill. The food was spread out on the rolling table that was supposed to be for hospital meals but was now covered in contraband.
Liam watched us eat like a starving man watching a feast through a window.
"That chicken looks crispy," he said.
"It is," Josh said.
"What does it taste like?"
"Like victory."
"I will kill you."
"No, you won't. You're in a hospital bed."
Liam turned to me. "Ruz. You are supposed to be the nice one."
I raised an eyebrow. "When have I ever been nice?"
"You saved my life."
"That doesn't make me nice. That makes me practical. You are useful to have around."
"Useful. How?"
"You carry snacks."
Liam stared at me. Then at the food. Then back at me.
"I am going to cry," he said.
"Please don't," Nika said. "The nurses already think we are a gang."
"We are a gang," Mira said.
"We have matching injuries. Matching stories. Matching alibis."
"That's not a gang. That's trauma bonding."
"Same thing."
Liam put his face in his hands. "I can't believe these are the people who saved my life."
"You are welcome," Enzo said, stealing a fry from Nika's container.
"I didn't thank you."
"You are thinking about it."
"I am not."
"Your face is saying it."
"My face is saying I want to go home."
"Soon," Aira said quietly. She had been silent most of the visit, sitting in the corner, watching. But now she spoke. "The doctor said maybe tomorrow. If your tests come back clear."
Liam's face lit up. "Really?"
She nodded.
"Finally," he said. "Freedom. Real food. My own bed."
"Your own bed where you can cry in private," Adrian said.
"I don't cry."
"You cried when I ate the last fry yesterday."
"That was emotional pain. Different thing."
Zayn leaned forward slightly.
"There is a girl in our class who keeps asking about you."
Liam froze. "What?"
"Angela Garcia" Zayn said. "She came by yesterday. Asked the nurse if you were okay. Left a card."
Liam's face went red. "She…She's just being nice."
"She has been being nice for three weeks," Rifat added. "She brings you food. Saves you a seat. Laughs at your jokes."
"My jokes are funny."
"Your jokes are terrible. She laughs anyway."
Liam looked around the room for support. Found none.
"She doesn't like me," he said.
"She definitely likes you," Josh said.
"She's just a kind person."
"Kind people don't save seats for three weeks."
"This is harassment," Liam said.
"This is friendship," I said. "We are looking out for you."
"By embarrassing me?"
"By informing you."
Liam buried his face in his pillow.
"I want to go back to being kidnapped. It was less stressful."
No one laughed.
Because that wasn't funny.
But Liam's eyes were smiling behind the pillow, and that was enough.
Across the room, near the window, Adrian was talking to Mira.
Not loudly. Not obviously. Just… talking.
Most people didn't notice.
I noticed.
Adrian was leaning against the windowsill, his arms crossed, his expression relaxed. Mira sat on the edge of the windowsill, her phone in her hand, her broken finger still splinted.
She said something.
He laughed.
Not his usual laugh, the sharp, sarcastic one he used when he was making fun of someone. A real laugh. Soft. Genuine.
My eyes narrowed.
I had never seen Adrian laugh like that.
Mira said something else. Adrian nodded. His eyes stayed on her face longer than necessary.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
But I didn't say anything.
Because Liam was complaining again, and Zayn and Rifat were making it worse, and the noise in the room was rising to the kind of chaos that felt almost normal.
Liam was discharged three days later.
The doctors said he was healing well. The bruises were fading. The cuts were closing.
We are waiting for him at the school gate.
He walked in like a returning hero chin up, shoulders back, trying to look like nothing had happened.
It didn't work.
Everyone stared.
They stared because we were gone for days, and now are back, The nightmares of Monterrazas are back.
"Stop staring," he muttered to me as we walked through the hallway.
"I'm not staring. I'm observing."
"I hate you."
"No, you don't."
He didn't argue.
Section Z was the same as always.
Loud. Chaotic. Disrespectful to authority in ways that were technically against the rules but somehow never got punished.
Nika was arguing with Enzo about something unimportant. Aira was reading a book in the corner, pretending not to listen to the argument. Josh was writing something in his notebook.
I sat down at my desk.
The window was open. The breeze was warm. The sun was bright.
It felt almost normal.
But normal was a lie.
Liam was in Section E now. With Adrian, Rifat, Diego, and a bunch of other people he complained about constantly. He had not stopped complaining about it since the reassignments were announced.
"Why am I in Section E?" he had asked. "What did I do to deserve this?"
"You exist," Adrian had said.
"That's not a crime."
"It should be."
I smirked at the memory.
Liam would survive.
He always did.
The cafeteria was louder than usual.
Word had spread that we are back. People kept stopping by the table to say hi to Liam, to ask how he was, to stare at him like he had grown a second head.
Liam handled it with surprising grace.
Mostly.
"If one more person asks me if I'm okay," he muttered, "I'm going to scream."
"You are not okay," Rifat said.
"I know that. They don't need to know that."
Zayn sat across from Liam, his expression neutral, his eyes sharp.
"Angela is coming."
Liam's head snapped up. "Where?"
"Behind you."
Liam turned so fast he nearly fell off his chair.
Angela Garcia stood a few feet away, holding a tray, looking uncertain. She was pretty soft features, kind eyes, the kind of girl who probably volunteered at animal shelters and wrote poetry about sunsets.
"Hi, Liam," she said. "I just wanted to say… I'm glad you're back."
Liam's face went red. "Thanks."
"Are you… feeling better?"
"Much better. I'm totally fine."
She smiled. "Good. I saved you a seat in class today. In case you needed help catching up."
"I…..thanks. That's…I appreciate it."
She nodded, smiled again, and walked away.
Liam stared after her.
Zayn and Rifat exchanged a glance.
"She definitely likes you," Zayn said.
"She does not."
"She saved you a seat."
"She's a nice person."
"She laughed at your joke about the chicken."
Liam's face went redder.
"That was a good joke."
"It was terrible," Rifat said.
"It was creative."
"It was a pun."
"Puns are creative."
"Puns are crimes."
Liam looked at me for help.
I shrugged. "She likes you."
"I hate all of you."
"You said that already."
"I mean it more now."
Across the table, Adrian was sitting with Mira.
They were talking quietly. Heads bent together. Her phone was on the table between them, and she was pointing at something on the screen. Adrian was listening….actually listening, not just pretending.
His expression was soft.
I had never seen his expression soft.
I watched for a moment longer.
Then looked away.
Adrian could have his secrets. I had enough of my own.
The school day ended.
The sun was setting, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink. The air was cooler now, carrying the first hint of evening.
Adrian drove. I sat in the passenger seat. Liam sat in the back, staring out the window.
"Are you okay?" I asked.
"I'm fine."
"You keep saying that."
"Because it's true."
"You are lying."
He didn't answer.
Adrian glanced at him in the rearview mirror.
Silence.
We pulled up to Liam's house. His mother was waiting at the door, her arms open, her face soft.
Liam looked at us.
"Thank you," he said. "For not leaving me."
"We won't," I said.
He nodded then got out of the car.
And walked to his mother.
She wrapped her arms around him and held on.
Adrian started the engine.
I watched until they disappeared inside.
Adrian start the car.
The streets were emptier now. The sun had set. The streetlights were flickering on.
I stared out the window.
Thinking about Kairo. About Liam.
About all the things I couldn't remember and all the things I couldn't forget.
A car behind us.
Same one.
Three turns.
Same one.
My eyes narrowed.
"Adrian," I said.
"I see it."
"Don't go home."
"I know."
He turned left. The car followed.
Turned right. The car followed.
Turned into a crowded parking lot. The car hesitated then continued past, disappearing into the night.
Adrian exhaled.
I didn't.
Kairo's men had found us. And they were watching.