A'ishah's POV

The waiting room felt colder than it should.

I sat there, my hands clasped together, my foot tapping restlessly against the floor. The hospital smelled of antiseptic and something else I couldn’t place, something that made my stomach churn. The clock on the wall ticked too loudly, each second stretching unbearably as I waited.

Clifford was still in surgery.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, forcing myself to focus, to breathe. But my mind kept playing it back—the gunshot, the way his body jerked as he took the bullet meant for me, the way his blood stained my hands as I tried to stop it.

If I hadn't asked him to come with me, he wouldn't be in there fighting for his life.

"Atty. Alvarez."

I looked up to see two investigators standing in front of me. One of them, Inspector Garcia, was watching me carefully, while his partner, Inspector Ruiz, pulled out a notepad.

“We need to talk about what happened.” Garcia said, his voice firm but not unkind.

I inhaled deeply, nodding. "Fine."

Ruiz adjusted his glasses. “You said you were investigating an ongoing case when the attack happened?”

“Yes.” My voice was hoarse, my throat dry. “Clifford and I were going over the scene again, hoping to find something we might’ve missed. Then… we heard footsteps outside. A group of armed men surrounded the cabin.”

Garcia scribbled something down. "Do you think they were waiting for you?”

I hesitated. "I don't know. But they knew we were there. They were searching for something, or making sure no one else would."

Ruiz nodded. "And you managed to escape?"

I exhaled sharply, gripping the edge of my seat. "Barely. Clifford fought them off so I could get away. He was… he was holding them back, but then one of them grabbed me. He tried to—" I stopped, shaking my head. I didn’t want to relive that moment. "Clifford fought until he couldn't anymore. He was shot because he was protecting me.”

Garcia and Ruiz exchanged a glance before Garcia spoke. "You're injured, too, Atty. Alvarez." His gaze flickered to the bruises on my arms, the scrapes on my skin. "You should get checked."

"I'm fine.” I said quickly.

"Atty.—"

"I said I'm fine." My voice came out sharper than I intended, but I couldn’t help it. "I just… I just need to wait for him."

Ruiz sighed. "We understand, but—”

"No, you don’t!" My hands balled into fists, my chest tightening. "I lost Nicole because of this. I lost her, and I—I can’t lose him too." My voice cracked, and I forced myself to look away, swallowing back the emotions threatening to spill over.

The room went silent.

Garcia softened. "We’re not trying to take you away from him. But you need to take care of yourself, too. Clifford wouldn’t want you sitting here, bleeding and exhausted, blaming yourself for something that isn’t your fault."

I clenched my jaw. "It is my fault.”

"It's not."

I wanted to argue, to push back, but then the operating room doors opened.

I shot up from my seat as a doctor stepped out, pulling down her surgical mask. My heart pounded painfully as I took a step forward.

"How is he?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

The doctor gave me a tired but reassuring look. "He's stable. We managed to remove the bullet and stop the internal bleeding."

My knees nearly buckled in relief.

"But he lost a lot of blood.” The doctor continued. "He's not out of the woods yet. The next 24 hours are critical."

I nodded, gripping the back of a chair to steady myself. "Can I see him?"

The doctor hesitated, then sighed. "Just for a moment. He needs rest."

I didn't wait for more. I pushed past them and made my way inside.

When I saw Clifford lying there, pale and hooked up to machines, the guilt came crashing down all over again.

I sat beside him, reaching for his hand, my fingers trembling as they curled around his.

"I'm so sorry." I whispered. "You shouldn't have been there. You shouldn't have gotten hurt because of me."

He didn’t stir.

I squeezed his hand gently, blinking back the tears.

"I won't let this be for nothing, Ford." I murmured. "I'll find out who did this. I promise you.”

The rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor was the only thing keeping me grounded.

I sat there, still holding Clifford’s hand, my thumb gently tracing over his bruised knuckles. His face was pale, his breathing shallow but steady. I had seen him fight with everything he had, but lying here like this, hooked up to tubes and machines, he looked so fragile.

Guilt gnawed at my chest, relentless and suffocating.

“You better wake up soon.” I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper. “I owe you a strawberry taho.”

No response. Not that I expected one.

I sighed and leaned back, rubbing my temples. I needed to pull myself together. There were too many unanswered questions, and I refused to let this slide.

The door creaked open.

I turned to see Inspector Garcia step inside, holding a cup of coffee. He looked at Clifford before shifting his gaze back to me.

“You should rest.” He said, offering me the cup. “You look like you haven’t slept in days.”

I took the coffee but didn’t drink it. "I can't.”

He sighed, leaning against the wall. “You’re not going to do Clifford any favors by running yourself into the ground.”

“I’ll rest when I know who tried to kill us.”

Garcia exhaled through his nose. "We’re already working on it. But we need more from you, Atty. Alvarez. Anything you remember about those men. Their faces, their accents, anything unusual.”

I closed my eyes, recalling the events from earlier. The way they moved, how they handled their weapons. They were professionals, but something about them felt… different.

“They weren’t just random thugs.” I said finally. “They were organized. Trained.” I hesitated. “And they weren’t there to rob us. They were looking for something.”

Morales nodded, his expression unreadable. "And what did they take?"

"Nothing."

He frowned. "Then what were they after?"

I reached into my bag, I was about to pull out everything I took from the cabin but I stopped myself.

I can't trust him. For all I know, he could be working for Cobra Organization as well.

I tightened my grip on the bag, my heartbeat quickening. I had almost let my guard down.

Inspector Garcia was watching me closely, waiting for an answer. If he noticed my hesitation, he didn’t comment on it.

“They didn’t take anything.” I repeated, keeping my voice steady. “But they were searching for something. Maybe they didn’t find it.”

Garcia exhaled, rubbing his jaw. “Damn. This complicates things.”

I stayed silent. My mind was already racing. The photograph, the tumbler, the humidifier, and that strange piece of wood. I needed to figure out why they mattered before someone else came looking for them.

Garcia studied me for a moment before crossing his arms. “Listen, I know you want answers. So do I. But you just survived an ambush, and Clifford is barely hanging on. You need to let us handle this.”

I let out a dry, humorless chuckle. “Let you handle this? Like how you handled Nicole’s case?”

His jaw tightened.

I leaned forward, my fingers curling around the armrest of my chair. “I appreciate the concern, Inspector. But if you think I’m just going to sit back and wait for you to connect the dots, you don’t know me at all.”

A tense silence filled the room.

Finally, Garcia sighed. “Just… be careful, Alvarez. Whoever those men were, they weren’t playing around.” He glanced at Clifford. “And neither were you two.”

With that, he turned and left.

The moment the door clicked shut, I let out a shaky breath, my fingers clenching around my bag.

I pulled it closer to me, feeling the hard edges of the items inside. I needed to examine them, figure out what was worth killing for.

I glanced at Clifford again, his face still pale, his chest rising and falling steadily.

I owed him the truth. And I wasn’t going to stop until I found it.

I stepped out of Clifford’s hospital room, my hands still shaking as I pulled out my phone. My mind was racing, but there was only one person I could trust with this.

Jana.

Pressing the call button, I held the phone to my ear, my pulse hammering against my ribs. It rang twice before she picked up.

“A’ishah? Okay ka lang ba?” Her voice was sharp, alert, like she already knew something was wrong.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, pressing my back against the cold wall. “No. I—I need you, Jana. It’s an emergency.”

Silence. Then the sound of papers shuffling, a chair scraping against the floor.

“Where are you?”

“A hospital in Baguio.” I admitted, my voice barely steady. “I can’t talk much over the phone. But I need you here. Please.”

I hated how desperate I sounded, but I had no choice. If there was anyone I could count on right now, it was her.

Jana didn’t even hesitate. “I’m coming.”

A shaky breath left my lips, but the weight in my chest didn’t ease. “But aren’t you busy?”

“Doesn’t matter.” She said firmly. “Just hold on. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, nodding even though she couldn’t see me. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me.” Her tone was unwavering. “Just stay safe. I’ll call kapag malapit na ko.”

The line went dead.

I let my arm drop to my side, still gripping my phone as I sucked in a deep breath.

I went back inside, and sat in the waiting room. I didn't even realize that I've been sitting her for hours until a nurse came, and talked to me kindly.

“Miss, okay ka na ba? Kailangan kong gamutin talaga yang mga sugat mo.” She said while scanning me.

I sighed, as I gave in. I let her drag me to a room somewhere in this hospital.

After what felt like forever avoiding the persistent nurses, I let them clean up the cuts and bruises littering my skin. The sting of antiseptic barely registered. I had too much on my mind to care.

Clifford was still unconscious. The weight of guilt sat heavy in my chest. I was the reason he was here.

I flinched slightly when the nurse dabbed a particularly deep cut on my arm.

"Sorry, miss. Medyo malalim itong sugat mo na ‘to.” She said gently.

I just nodded, staring blankly at the floor. My mind was a whirlwind of everything that happened.

And the unanswered question that gnawed at my mind: What the hell were they looking for?

The door to the room suddenly swung open.

"A’ishah!”

I turned just as Jana rushed inside, her eyes wide with worry. She was still in her work clothes, her blazer slightly wrinkled, her hair hastily tied back, she must've left in a hurry.

The second she saw me, sitting there with bruises and bandages, her expression darkened.

"What the fuck happened?" She demanded, barely stopping herself from yanking me into a hug.

The nurse took a step back, clearly startled by Jana’s sudden entrance.

I forced a small, tired smile. "Nice to see you too."

Jana's sharp gaze swept over me, assessing, before she exhaled harshly. She pulled out the chair beside me and sat down.

"Start talking."

I glanced at the nurse, who quickly got the hint and finished up as fast as she could.

Once we were alone, I let out a breath and met Jana’s gaze. "It’s bad, Jana. Really bad."

Her eyes narrowed. "How bad?”

I clenched my fists. "Someone tried to kill me and Clifford tonight. And I think, no, I know. It has something to do with the case.”

Jana stilled. "Wait… Clifford—"

I swallowed the lump in my throat, gripping the edge of the hospital bed as the words struggled to come out. "He got shot, Jana." My voice cracked, and the dam I had been holding back finally broke. "He took a bullet for me. He almost died."

Jana’s expression shifted instantly from shock to something unreadable, before settling into concern.

"Shit.”

I buried my face in my hands, my whole body trembling. "If I hadn't dragged him into this, he wouldn't be in that operating room right now. He wouldn't be fighting for his life." A strangled sob escaped me. "This is my fault. All of it."

Jana let out a slow breath, her hand tightening into a fist as if she was trying to stay calm. But then, without another word, she pulled me into a hug.

I tensed for a second, then broke completely.

I clung to her like a lifeline, my body shaking with quiet sobs.

Jana held me tighter. "Listen to me, A'ishah. This isn’t your fault." Her voice was firm but gentle. "You didn’t make Clifford take that bullet. He chose to protect you."

"But he wouldn’t have been there if—"

"If you weren’t doing the right thing?" She cut me off. "If you weren’t trying to uncover the truth?"

I shook my head, gripping the fabric of her blazer. "I don’t want to lose anyone else, Jana. I can’t—" My voice cracked again, the weight of my past and present merging into one unbearable thought.

Jana pulled away slightly, holding my face between her hands. "You won’t." Her eyes, sharp yet filled with something warm, locked onto mine. "You hear me? Clifford is strong. He’s going to make it. And you—" She exhaled, brushing a tear from my cheek "—you’re stronger than you think, A'ishah."

I let out a shaky breath, nodding weakly.

Jana sighed, leaning back but keeping her hand on my shoulder. "I’m not gonna lie. This is some heavy shit you’ve gotten yourself into." She looked at me closely, like she was assessing how much I was holding in. "But before we even think about what’s next, you need to breathe. Just for a second."

I wiped my face with the sleeve of my jacket, sniffing. "I don’t know how to."

Jana gave me a small, sad smile. "Then I’ll help you.”

I wiped my face one last time, inhaling deeply to steady myself. Then, without another word, I grabbed my bag and handed it to Jana.

She frowned, looking at me questioningly. "What’s this?"

"Everything I managed to take from the cabin before we were attacked." My voice was still shaky, but I forced myself to focus. "I don’t know if any of it makes sense, but I have a feeling there’s something important here.”

Jana opened the bag, pulling out each item carefully. The first thing she examined was the old photograph, the one taken the night before she died.

Her brows furrowed as she studied it. "Damn… she looks terrified."

I nodded. "Exactly. This wasn’t just some random picture. Someone took this right before she died. And look at the angle—it’s low, like someone was watching her."

Jana let out a low whistle. "Creepy as hell." She set it aside and pulled out the next item, a simple tumbler. She shook it, then sniffed the opening. "Why the hell did you take this?”

I shrugged. "I don’t know. I just grabbed whatever I could."

She sighed, but her fingers ran over the surface thoughtfully. "I’ll check if there’s any residue inside. Maybe she drank something that night that could be important."

Next was the humidifier. Jana turned it over in her hands, inspecting the vents. "Was this on when you got there?"

"I think so. Why?"

She narrowed her eyes. "Because if someone tampered with it, it could have released something in the air.” She tilted her head, and sighed. "I don’t know yet, but we’ll test it."

The last item was the small, strange piece of wood. Jana held it up, turning it between her fingers. "What the hell is this supposed to be?"

I shook my head. "No idea. But it felt… off."

Jana gave me a look. "Off?"

I crossed my arms. "I know how it sounds, but trust me. There’s something about it.”

She exhaled sharply, then dropped the wood into a small evidence bag. "Alright. I’ll get everything tested." She zipped up the bag and looked at me seriously. "If there’s something in here that can crack this case, we’ll find it."

I nodded, a small flicker of hope igniting in my chest. "Thanks, Jana."

She smirked. "You don’t have to thank me yet. We’re just getting started.”

The days passed in a blur of hospital routines, quiet conversations, and sleepless nights. Clifford was recovering well. Better than expected, actually. His body was still healing, but his strength was returning, and today, we were finally talking about his discharge.

"A few more days, and I’m out of here." Clifford muttered, adjusting himself on the hospital bed. His voice was lighter now, less strained from pain.

I smiled, handing him a fresh bottle of water. "That’s what the doctor said. But don’t get too excited. You still need to rest when you get out.”

"Yeah, yeah." He waved a hand dismissively, but there was relief in his eyes. "Honestly, I just want to sleep in my own bed and eat real food again."

I chuckled. "I’ll bring you something decent to celebrate later.”

He smiled lightly. “You may go home, A'ishah. You know that, right?”

“Of course.” I nodded my head. “But I'll stay until you're better.”

“Umuwi ka na nga. Sigurado akong hinahanap ka na nila Nicolas at Ashley.”

“Ayoko nga.”

He stopped for a while, just staring at me. “You're feeling guilty.”

I rolled my eyes. “Stop reading me, Clifford.” With a huff, I stood up. “I'll get us a coffee. Do you want anything else?”

Clifford smirked. "Get me something strong. I need the caffeine to survive another day in this place.”

I rolled my eyes playfully before stepping out of the hospital room, stretching my sore limbs as I walked toward the coffee shop outside. The cool Baguio air greeted me, a refreshing contrast to the stuffy hospital corridors.

I was halfway to the shop when I felt that someone was watching me.

Before I could react, a strong hand gripped my arm and yanked me into a quiet alley beside the hospital.

"What the—" I barely got the words out before I saw who it was.

Jeremy.

His face was twisted with anger, his grip on my arm tight. "What the hell is wrong with you, A'ishah?" He hissed. "Why are you in Baguio?"

I wrenched my arm free and glared at him. "Excuse me? You don’t get to manhandle me like that."

Jeremy stepped closer, his eyes dark and furious. "You were supposed to focus on Maxine's conviction. That was your job. So why the hell are you running around investigating a case that doesn't concern you?”

“Doesn't concern me?!” I echoed. “This is Nicole and Maxine we're talking about, Jeremy. And it concerns me more now that someone tried to kill me and Clifford.”

"It wouldn't have happened if you just did what you were supposed to do!" he snapped. "Do you even understand how dangerous this is? You're messing with something bigger than you realize!"

I crossed my arms, refusing to back down. "And you think I should just sit back and let an innocent person rot in jail?"

Jeremy scoffed. "Maxine isn't innocent. And even if she were, it’s not your problem. You were given one job. Make sure she gets convicted. That’s it.”

The moment those words left his mouth, my body moved before my mind could catch up.

My palm struck his cheek hard, the sound echoing in the quiet alley. I slapped him hard.

Jeremy staggered slightly, his face snapping to the side. His jaw tensed as he slowly turned back to me, his eyes burning with restrained anger.

I stepped closer, my own fury boiling over. "How dare you?" My voice trembled, not with fear, but with pure rage. "How fucking dare you tell me what my job is?”

His cheek was already turning red from the slap, but I didn’t care. "My job is to seek the truth. My job is to fight for justice, not to fabricate lies just because someone told me to."

Jeremy scoffed, rubbing his cheek. "You’re so naive, A'ishah. You think justice is simple? That it’s black and white?"

"I think justice is worth fighting for.” I snapped. "Even when it’s messy. Even when it’s hard."

His eyes darkened. "Then you’re going to get yourself killed.”

I clenched my fists. "Then so be it."

We stared at each other for a long moment, the air between us thick with tension. I could see the conflict in his eyes like he wanted to say more but knew it wouldn’t change anything.

Finally, Jeremy let out a sharp breath and shook his head. "You don’t know what you’re up against, A'ishah. Walk away while you still can."

I took another step forward, looking him dead in the eye. "No. But you? You should.”

His jaw clenched. I could tell he wanted to argue, to push back, but instead, he took a step back. "You’ll regret this."

"I’ll regret it more if I let innocent people suffer."

Jeremy exhaled harshly, shaking his head again before turning on his heel and walking away.

I stood there, my chest rising and falling with adrenaline, my hands still trembling from the force of my slap.

I knew Jeremy wasn’t bluffing. I knew whatever I was getting into was dangerous.

But I won't back down. Not now, not when I’m finally seeing my mistakes.

How I let my anger cloud my judgment, how I refused to listen when Maxine needed me to, how I doubted the one person I should have trusted the most.

I took a deep breath, shaking off the encounter as best. My hands were still trembling slightly as I gripped the two cups of coffee, but I forced myself to focus.

When I stepped into Clifford’s room, he was already smirking, arms crossed over his chest like he was about to tease me. “Took you long enough. What, did you have to fight a barista for that coffee?”

I let out a small, tired laugh as I handed him his cup. “Close enough. I ran into Jeremy.”

His smirk immediately disappeared. “What?” His brows furrowed as he straightened up, looking me over like he was searching for any sign of injury. “What the hell did he want?”

I exhaled sharply, sitting down beside his bed. “He wanted to know why I was here, why I wasn’t focusing on Maxine’s conviction. Basically, he expected me to just play along with whatever they wanted.”

Clifford scoffed. “And let me guess, you told him to go to hell?”

I took a sip of my coffee. “I slapped him.”

Clifford choked on his drink, coughing as he stared at me in disbelief. “You what?”

“I. Slapped. Him.” I repeated, a small smirk tugging at my lips despite everything. “Hard.”

For a moment, Clifford just blinked at me before bursting into laughter. It was a rare sound these days, and I found myself chuckling along with him.

“Well, damn.” He wiped at his eyes, still grinning. “I wish I could’ve seen that.”

“He had it coming.” I shrugged, leaning back against the chair. “He tried to tell me I was making a mistake by being here. That I was going to regret it.”

Clifford’s laughter faded as his expression grew more serious. “You do know he’s not just bluffing, right? You need to be careful, A'ishah.”

I looked down at my coffee, fingers tightening slightly around the cup. “I know.” I admitted. “But I can’t just walk away from this, Clifford. I already made that mistake once. I won’t do it again.”

He studied me for a moment before sighing. “Just promise me you won’t do anything reckless.”

I smirked. “Me? Reckless? Since when?”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m serious, A’ishah.”

I met his gaze, my smirk fading into something softer. “I promise.”

~~~

Thank you for reading! 💛

Ps. I've got double update tonight to make it up to you! ☺️