Maxine's POV

The cold metal bars cast long shadows in the dimly lit cell, their rigid structure mirroring the tight, suffocating grip around my chest. I sat on the hard bench, elbows resting on my knees, my fingers tangled in my own hair as I struggled to breathe. The air felt thick, heavy with regret, guilt, and something even worse… loss.

Nicole was gone.

It didn’t feel real. It couldn’t be real. But no matter how many times I shut my eyes, trying to will it away, the image of her lifeless body, the echoes of grief-stricken sobs, refused to fade.

My heart clenched painfully. I should be there. I should be standing beside A’ishah, beside Mara, beside everyone who loved Nicole.

But instead, I was here, locked up like a criminal. And maybe I deserved it. Maybe this was my punishment for failing her. For failing them all.

A lump formed in my throat as my thoughts spiraled deeper into the abyss. How did we get here? Just a week ago, Nicole was teasing me about marrying A’ishah, smirking whenever I blushed because of her. She was the sister I never had, the constant force pushing me forward even when I wanted to give up.

And now, she is just… gone.

Tears burned at the back of my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. Not yet. Not when the weight of everything crashed down on me like an avalanche.

This was my fault, wasn't it? I killed her.

My breath hitched as the thought echoed in my head.

I killed her.

But I didn’t remember doing it.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to piece together the fragments of that night. It was all a blur. Shouts, flashing lights, the metallic scent of blood clinging to the air.

My hands trembled as I curled them into fists, nails digging into my palms. I had to remember. I needed to know what happened.

"Maxine."

Jana’s voice was raw, barely above a whisper. When I finally lifted my gaze, I wished I hadn’t. Her eyes were red-rimmed, dark circles marring her face. She looked at me like I was a stranger. Like I was something she couldn't recognize anymore.

I swallowed hard. “Jana, I—”

"Did you do it?" Her voice cracked. "Did you kill her?"

The question was a knife to my gut.

"I don’t know.” I admitted, my voice barely audible.

Silence stretched between us, suffocating and heavy. Jana’s lips parted as if she wanted to say something, but nothing came out.

"You don’t know?" She finally repeated, disbelief evident in her tone. "How can you not know, Max? She was our friend. You—" She cut herself off, inhaling sharply. "You were her family."

Pain lanced through my chest, sharp and unforgiving. "I swear, Jana, I don’t remember. I just… I woke up, and she was already—" My voice broke before I could finish. "I don’t know what happened."

Jana flinched like my words physically hurt her. "They found your fingerprints on the weapon, Max. They found blood on your hands."

My stomach turned, nausea creeping up my throat. "No." I whispered. "That can't be right.”

Jana's gaze bore into me, raw and accusing, as the weight of her words settled in my chest like lead. My hands trembled in my lap, bloodstained memories lurking just beyond reach.

The cell's dim lighting made her look even more hollow, like the grief had carved into her, leaving only sharp edges behind.

“How…” I cleared my throat. “H-How’s A'ishah? Did you see her?”

Jana kept staring at me. Her fists are clenched tightly, but I don't see any hate in her eyes.

She heaved a sigh. “It's not looking good for A'ishah. She's… she's a mess, Max.”

The sound of her name alone sent a fresh wave of pain crashing through me. My fingers curled into my jumpsuit, gripping the fabric like it was the only thing keeping me from falling apart.

I imagined her. Pale, exhausted, and drowning in grief. The same way she had looked when she took our engagement ring out of her finger, and slapped it right on my chest.

"She’s barely holding on.” Jana continued, voice tight. “We've been trying to keep her from spiraling, but you know how she is. She won’t let anyone in.”

I closed my eyes, swallowing the lump in my throat.

Of course she wouldn’t. A’ishah had always carried her pain alone, locking it away where no one could reach it. But this… losing Nicole.

Damn.

I couldn’t even begin to imagine what this had done to her.

I studied Jana through the dim light filtering into my cell, noticing the exhaustion lining her face, the weight of grief pressing down on her shoulders. But something didn’t sit right.

“Why are you back here so early?” My voice came out rough, laced with the remnants of sleepless hours and too many unanswered questions. “You were just here last night.”

Jana hesitated. “Because I needed to be.”

I frowned. “Jana—”

“Because you’re still my friend, Max.”

Her voice was softer this time, yet firm. Certain.

My breath hitched.

She ran a hand through her messy hair, letting out a bitter chuckle. “I know what everyone’s saying. Hell, I was the one who told you about the evidence. But…” She exhaled shakily, looking straight at me. “I don’t believe it. I refuse to believe it. No matter what the reports say, no matter how damning the case looks against you. I know you, Max. You would never hurt Nicole.”

Something inside me cracked, raw and painful. She believed me.

Even when the whole world was pointing at me as a murderer, even when my own memory refused to cooperate, Jana still believed in me.

I swallowed hard, trying to suppress the lump forming in my throat.

“Thank you.” I whispered.

She gave me a small nod, but I could see the doubt flickering behind her eyes. Not doubt in me, but in the situation itself. She wanted answers just as much as I did.

But as grateful as I was for her, my mind was elsewhere.

A’ishah.

The woman I was supposed to marry again. The woman who once held me like I was her entire world, now looking at me as if I had torn hers apart.

The memory of her expression that night haunted me like a specter I couldn’t escape. Her shattered gaze, the betrayal in her eyes… Damn, it burned.

She thought I did it. Killed Nicole.

And the worst part? I didn’t even have an answer.

I had wracked my brain, clawing through the haze of that night, desperate for a missing piece, for a truth that would exonerate me. But all I found was silence. A deafening void where certainty should have been.

My hands trembled as I clenched them into fists, nails biting into my skin, grounding me in a reality I wished I could escape.

“I need to see her.” My voice was barely above a whisper, but Jana heard me.

She sighed. “Max—”

“Please, Jana.” My voice cracked. “I just… I need to see her. Even if she hates me. Even if she never wants to look at me again.” My throat tightened. “I just need to see her.”

Jana hesitated, but the look in her eyes told me she understood.

“She’s angry, Max.” She said gently. “She’s hurting. And right now, I don’t know if she’ll even let herself listen to you.”

I swallowed hard. “I know.”

But that wouldn’t stop me from trying.

I had already lost Nicole. I couldn’t lose A'ishah too.

But hours turned into days.

Each passing moment felt like a slow, agonizing death, suffocating me with silence. The walls of this prison closed in, brick by brick, sealing me in a tomb of unanswered questions.

I waited.

I waited for A’ishah to come. For her to yell at me, demand answers, curse my name, make me bleed with her words if that’s what she needed.

I would’ve taken anything.

But she never came.

The realization hit me harder than the cold prison bars against my back when a letter came.

For a moment, a single fleeting moment, I let hope breathe inside me. Maybe, just maybe, she believed in me. Maybe this was her way of reaching out, of holding on to the love we had fought so hard for.

I thought she wrote to me like what she did for six years when she left.

But I was wrong.

My fingers trembled as I unfolded the paper. Then, I felt it. The single thread of hope I had snapped when I saw the content of the letter.

A single sentence, stamped in black ink, sliced through my ribs and crushed what was left of me.

Petition for Dissolution of Marriage.

My lungs caved, breath shuddering out of me as my vision blurred.

She's not just leaving. She's erasing me.

I lost her.

I let out a hollow, broken sound. Something between a sob and a laugh, because fuck, I thought I had already known pain. I thought I had already felt the worst of it.

But nothing, nothing, compared to this.

She really believed I did it.

That I killed our friend.

That I was capable of such a thing.

I pressed my forehead against the cold, unforgiving metal of my cell bars, my hands clutched so tightly together I thought my bones would shatter. But it didn’t matter.

Nothing mattered anymore.

Nicole was gone.

A’ishah was gone too.

And I was trapped here, left with nothing but the ghost of her love and the weight of a crime I didn’t even know if I committed.

The door creaked open.

I didn’t bother looking up. My body felt heavy, my mind even more so. I had spent hours staring at the cold, lifeless walls of my cell, replaying the night over and over, searching for something, anything that would make it make sense. But nothing did.

I was too tired for another round of questioning. Too drained to deal with another officer looking at me like I was already guilty.

“Maxine.”

The voice made my stomach twist. It was John.

I finally glanced up, my chest tightening when I saw who was standing beside him.

Denise.

She looked at me with an unreadable expression, her arms crossed over her chest. But it wasn’t the usual smugness or feigned indifference I was used to. There was something else there. Concern? Determination? Pity?

I clenched my jaw. “No.”

John sighed. “Max—”

“No.” My voice was sharp, slicing through the stale air between us. “I don’t need her.”

Denise raised an eyebrow, unbothered by my rejection. “Really? Because from where I’m standing, you look pretty damn desperate right now.”

I shot her a glare, my fingers curling into fists. “I don’t need your help.”

“Yes, you do.”

A new voice cut in, one I hadn’t noticed before. Jana.

She stood behind them, arms crossed, her dark eyes unwavering.

“Denise is the best shot you have, Max. You can’t afford to be stubborn right now.”

I let out a bitter laugh, shaking my head. “You think A’ishah would be okay with this? With her being my lawyer?”

Silence.

No one answered right away because they knew the truth. A’ishah would hate this. She would hate me for this.

Jana sighed, stepping forward, lowering her voice. “I know what you’re thinking, Max. But right now, A’ishah isn’t here. She might hate Denise, and she sure as hell might hate you too, but if you keep waiting for her, you’ll rot in this cell.”

“Masisintensyahan ka na, si A'ishah pa rin ang iniisip mo?” Denise scoffed, shaking her head in disbelief. “You're crazy, Max.”

I swallowed, my throat dry, my hands trembling where they rested on my lap.

Jana took another step closer. “We all want A’ishah here. But she isn’t coming, Max.”

I exhaled sharply, shaking my head. “She’s going to hate me for this.”

John’s patience had finally snapped.

"Maxine, enough."

His voice wasn’t just frustrated. It was laced with disappointment, with the kind of anger that only comes from watching someone destroy themselves over a love that wasn’t being returned.

"If you were really that important to A’ishah, she’d be here fighting for you. She’d be your damn lawyer, not the one trying to put you in prison!”

His words hit like a gunshot to the chest. My jaw tightened, but he wasn’t done.

"You keep clinging to her like she’s your salvation, pero anong ginagawa niya? She’s on the other side of that courtroom, Max. Opposing counsel. She’s building the case that could send you away for the rest of your life, and you’re still worried about what she’d think?!"

I gritted my teeth, but I couldn’t speak.

"You think she still loves you? That she’s just confused? Then explain that!”

He pointed angrily at the paper in front of me. The divorce proposal. The proof of just how much she wanted to cut me out of her life.

"You’re sitting here refusing help because of a woman who has already made up her mind about you!" John’s voice cracked, furious. "A’ishah doesn’t believe in you, Max. Hell, I don’t even think she wants to."

That hurt.

That hurt more than anything else he had said.

"If you don’t fight for yourself, no one else will." His voice lowered, but the intensity remained. "Not A’ishah. Not anyone. So stop waiting for someone who isn’t coming."

Silence filled the room. Heavy. Suffocating.

I swallowed hard, blinking past the stinging in my eyes.

John was right.

A’ishah wasn’t coming.

And I was still here, stupidly hoping that she would.

I let out a slow, shuddering breath, my fingers tightening around the divorce proposal as if holding it any harder would change the words written on it.

She wasn’t coming.

She wasn’t fighting for me.

I had given A’ishah everything. My heart, my loyalty, my future. Hell, even my freedom. And in return, she handed me this. A signed contract severing whatever we had left.

And still, I wanted to believe in her.

"Max." Jana’s voice was softer now, but firm. "You need to make a choice. Right now. Do you want to sit here waiting for someone who clearly doesn’t give a damn anymore, or do you want to fight for yourself?"

My jaw clenched.

It wasn’t about giving up on A’ishah. It was about surviving.

I lifted my head and met Denise’s gaze. She was watching me, waiting, arms crossed, that familiar smirk gone. This wasn’t the girl who used to love playing games with my heart. This was a woman ready to fight.

For me.

Even when A’ishah refused to.

A twisted laugh escaped my throat. "This is a goddamn joke."

Denise arched a brow. "What is?"

I exhaled sharply, shaking my head. "The fact that you’re here. That you’re the one still standing beside me, when the person who should be is the one trying to put me behind bars." My voice cracked at the end.

Denise didn’t flinch. If anything, her expression softened just the tiniest bit. "Yeah, well. I’m full of surprises.”

I shut my eyes, swallowing the bitterness threatening to rise. When I spoke, my voice was hoarse.

"Fine."

Denise blinked. "Fine?"

I forced myself to look at her. "You win. Be my lawyer."

John let out a relieved sigh, and Jana patted my shoulder, but Denise just studied me for a moment, her sharp gaze searching for something.

"You’re not doing this for me, right?" She finally asked. "You’re doing this for yourself?”

“Duh! Of course!” I rolled my eyes. “Assuming mo naman.”

She laughed lightly. “Naninigurado lang.”

“What we have is done. For a long time ago, Denise.”

She was unfazed when she smirked. “Then you better prove your innocence, so you can get out of here and fix things with your little lawyer.”

I swallowed, my throat tightening at the words. Fix things? With A’ishah?

The same A’ishah who had signed those papers? Who was standing in that courtroom, building a case against me?

There was nothing left to fix.

Still, I couldn’t bring myself to say it.

I exhaled through my nose, looking away. “Just do your job, Denise.”

She chuckled, but there was no real amusement in it. “Of course, Max. You know I never lose.”

“Edi your first loss is against A'ishah.” I joked, laughing the way the three of them were left dumbfounded.

Jana groaned, running a hand down her face. “Max, seryoso ka ba? Kahit ganito na ‘yung sitwasyon mo, nagagawa mo pang magbiro?”

John crossed his arms, clearly unimpressed. “This is exactly why you’re in this mess. You're too crazy for that woman.”

Denise, on the other hand, just stared at me. For the first time since walking into this room, she looked genuinely caught off guard.

Then, as if snapping back to herself, she let out a soft laugh, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Cute. Pero masyado kang bilib sa kanya.”

She leaned forward, crossing her arms on her chest. “Let me make one thing clear, Max. A’ishah might be the best lawyer you’ve ever seen, but she’s not going to win against me.”

I forced out a dry chuckle, but my chest felt tight. “Lakas ng loob mo, Denise.”

She smirked, tilting her head. “Of course. Unlike her, I don’t let my emotions get in the way.”

That stung. Because it was true.

“The Special Unit wants to talk to you.” John said seriously.

“Interrogation nanaman ba?” I lazily asked.

He heaved a sigh as he nod his head. “Don't worry, Denise will be there—”

“I don't need her to be there.” I cut him off. “At least not now.” I gave them a small smile to assure them.

“Sigurado ka ba, Max?” Denise's voice sounded concern. Far from the smug and teasing voice she used a while ago.

“Yes.”

“Fine. Tawagan niyo nalang ako kapag nagka-problema.” Those are her final words before leaving us.

“I'll talk to the Special Unit for a while at the conference room bago ka nila kausapin.” Jana sounded angry kaya I tried to stop her but she won't back down.

“Jana, please—”

She left without a word. Stubborn.

“Tara na. I'll escort you to the interrogation room.”

John’s grip on my arm was firm but not rough as he guided me down the hallway toward the interrogation room. The walls of the station felt suffocating, the fluorescent lights buzzing faintly above us.

I had been stuck here long enough to memorize every crack on the ceiling, every face that passed me by, but nothing, nothing could’ve prepared me for the moment my world came to a screeching halt.

I saw her.

A’ishah.

The second she stepped inside, everything else faded into the background.

I barely registered John tensing beside me or the murmurs around us. My focus was locked on her. On the way she froze mid-step, her posture rigid, like she wasn’t expecting to see me here. And maybe she wasn’t. Maybe she really thought she could keep avoiding me.

But here we were.

My pulse pounded in my ears, drowning out the station’s usual noise. She looked different. Maybe it was just the lighting, or maybe it was the weight of everything that had happened, but there was something in her eyes, something unfamiliar. Cold. Detached.

Like she had already made peace with whatever she thought of me.

But I wasn’t at peace. Not even close.

The sight of her alone was a gut punch, knocking the air from my lungs, and yet I couldn’t look away. I had spent weeks wondering if I would ever see her again, if I was crazy for holding on to the hope that she still cared.

And now that she was right in front of me?

I couldn’t decide if I wanted to run to her or rip myself away from her completely.

Her name was on the tip of my tongue, but it never left my lips.

Because the way she looked at me, the way she clenched her jaw, her fingers curling at her sides like she was forcing herself to stay composed told me enough.

She didn’t want this. Didn’t want to see me. Didn’t want to acknowledge the past we shared.

I should’ve expected it. I should’ve prepared myself. But knowing it and feeling it were two different things. And right now? It felt like hell.

“She's not here.”

My voice was rougher than I intended, but I didn’t care. I just wanted her to say something, to react. To look at me the way she used to.

But she didn’t.

She barely even flinched, keeping her expression neutral, guarded, like I was just another obstacle in her way.

A bitter laugh threatened to escape my lips. I swallowed it down.

John’s grip on my arm tightened slightly, a silent warning to keep moving. And so after he told A'ishah Jana's whereabouts, we continued walking.

John exhaled sharply beside me as we arrived at the interrogation room. “Damn it, Max.” He muttered under his breath, his voice laced with frustration. “Ano na namang ginagawa mo?”

“What?” My voice came out weaker than I wanted it to.

His grip on my arm tightened, not harsh, but enough to ground me. “You know exactly what.” He hissed. “I told you to keep moving, pero anong ginawa mo? You froze. Again. Right in front of her.”

I clenched my jaw. “I didn’t—”

“Yes, you did.” He cut me off, shaking his head. “And if I hadn’t been holding onto you, you would’ve done something reckless. Like calling out to her.”

My throat tightened because he wasn’t wrong. I wanted to. So badly.

I wanted to ask her why she looked at me like I was a stranger. Why she wanted a divorce? Why she stood there with that detached expression, as if everything we went through meant nothing?

Why she still have so much power over me, even after all this time?

But she didn’t give me a chance. She just stood there, unflinching, unreadable.

And John saw it all.

“That woman is trying to put you behind bars, Max.” He reminded me, his voice softer now but still firm. “She signed those damn papers. She’s not here for you. She’s here to make sure you stay locked up.”

I inhaled sharply, looking away. “You think I don’t know that?”

“Then act like it.” He shot back. “Stop looking at her like she’s your whole damn world.”

I let out a bitter chuckle. “Because she is.” I looked at him to see him shaking his head in disappointment.

“She is my whole damn world.”

And right now, she's in front of me.

The moment A’ishah stepped inside this room, I felt it. The shift in the air, the tension so thick it wrapped around my throat like a noose.

I had imagined seeing her again a thousand times in my head, but never like this.

Never with her standing across from me like I was a criminal and she was the one sent to put me away.

She looked different. More distant. Her eyes weren’t the same ones I used to wake up to, full of warmth, teasing, love. No, those eyes were gone.

And in their place? A sharp, calculating stare, as if she was picking me apart, trying to make sense of me, like I was a goddamn puzzle she didn’t have the patience to solve.

I hated it.

I hated that she looked at me like I was a stranger. But what hurts more?

That maybe I really was, to her.

When she said my name, my chest tightened, and for a brief second, I let myself believe. Believe that maybe, just maybe, she still cared. But the sharpness in her voice cut through that hope faster than I could hold onto it.

She was here for answers. Not for me.

Her questions came fast, her words clipped and professional, but underneath it all, I knew her too well. She was frustrated. Desperate, even. Not just because the case didn’t make sense, but because I wasn’t making it easy for her.

Good.

If she thought she could just waltz back into my life and demand things from me, she was dead wrong.

Still, her voice, her presence, everything about her pulled at something deep inside me. I wanted to reach for her, to make her see me, really see me. Not as a suspect, not as a case she needed to solve, but as Maxine. Her Maxine.

But that girl? She died the day A’ishah walked away.

The conversation turned sharp, and before I knew it, we were throwing knives at each other. Accusations, resentment, wounds that never healed everything came pouring out.

She told me she wanted to help. That she needed to understand.

And all I could think was, Now?

Now, when I’m already drowning? When everyone has already decided I’m guilty? When she, of all people, should have been the one to stand by my side first?

It was too fucking late.

So I told her what she wanted to hear. That the evidence pointed to me. That everyone already believed I did it. That she might as well believe it too.

She still didn’t trust me.

She never did.

And maybe she never would.

Her words hit harder than they should have. That I shut her out. That I made it hard for her to believe in me. That she did believe in me, but I made it impossible.

I wanted to yell at her. Tell her that she was wrong. That I wasn’t the one who made it hard. She was.

She was the one who walked away. The one who left me behind. The one who decided I wasn’t worth the fight.

But what was the point?

So instead, I laughed. Bitter, hollow.

Because I already knew how this would end.

She would leave. Just like she always did.

And she did.

She stood up, spat out one last warning like she actually gave a damn, and turned for the door.

I should’ve let her go. Should’ve let her walk out without a second thought.

But my stupid, traitorous heart wouldn’t let me.

So I said her name. Soft. Weak. A last, desperate attempt at… what?

At keeping her here?

At making her stay?

It didn’t matter. Because she turned back, expecting something I couldn’t give.

And all I had left to say?

"Take care of yourself."

Because if she wouldn’t fight for me, if she wouldn’t believe in me, if she wouldn’t stay…

Then I had to let her go. Even if it killed me.

~~~

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