Valeria's POV

I sit on the edge of the bed, my hands pressed against my temples, trying to silence the thoughts screaming in my head.

How did I not notice? My mind drifts back to that night. To the girl I pulled from the darkness.

Emilia—shaking, broken, looking at me like I was another monster coming to hurt her.

She was terrified of me. I thought it was just the shock. The fear of nearly dying.

But now? Now I realize—I was wrong.

The things she said. The things I ignored.

"I still hear their voices. I can still smell that place."

She was trying to tell me and I never listened. I assumed they wouldn't touch her. That she was too valuable. That they were just keeping her there for the ransom.

But they were going to kill her anyway so they used her and then they planned to dispose of her like she was nothing.

I squeeze my eyes shut, my breathing ragged. My chest feels too tight, my pulse hammering in my ears. I should've seen it, I should've fucking seen it.

My fists clench. Before I realize what I'm doing, I slam my hand against the wall.

The pain barely registers.

Again.

Again.

My knuckles sting, but I don't stop. I need to feel it. I need to punish myself for not seeing. For not knowing. For pushing her away when she—

A hand catches my wrist and I snap my head up. Her grip is firm but gentle, her expression unreadable. "That's enough."

I wrench my hand away, turning my back to her. My breathing is still uneven, my body burning with frustration.

"I should've known," I mutter.

Lucia sighs. "No, you shouldn't have. Because she didn't want anyone to know."

I exhale sharply, my jaw tight. "Did you know?"

She doesn't answer right away. And that alone is enough to make my stomach drop.

"No," she says finally. "I didn't."

I spin around to face her, searching her expression. "Then tell me what happened. The day she got back."

Lucia hesitates, then sits on the chair near the window.

Her voice is softer now. "Her father brought in a private doctor. Only him and Dani were in the room with her."

My teeth grind. Lucia continues, her eyes flickering with something like guilt. "When they came out, they told us Emilia needed a lot of rest. That she'd been through a traumatic experience."

I clench my fists at my sides.

Lucia watches me carefully. "Then the next day, the police came. They told her they arrested you."

My breath catches.

"She left her room immediately. She and her father went straight to the police station." Lucia looks at me meaningfully. "Valeria, Emilia was relentless about finding you. It was all she could talk about. Until the day you were brought here, she didn't care about anything else."

I stare at her, my mind racing. So that's what happened. Emilia shoved it all aside—her own pain, her own suffering—to look for me.

And I— I've been nothing but a fucking asshole to her.

Lucia shakes her head. "There's no way you could've known."

"No," I say, my voice low. "But Dani knew."

"And she threw it in Emilia's face in front of everyone." My hands clench into fists again. "She fucking humiliated her."

Lucia's eyes darken. "Dani never should have—"

"She wanted to hurt her," I snap, cutting her off. "And I let her." Because for a second, I was so caught up in rage that I didn't see Emilia.

Didn't see how she shattered in that moment. I turn toward the door, my heart pounding.

Lucia watches me warily. "Valeria."

I don't stop. I don't look back. Because there's only one thing on my mind right now.

I need to find Emilia.

Emilia's POV

I don't know how long I've been curled up in bed, my body hollow, my mind racing.

The way Valeria looked at me—pity.

It felt like a punch to the gut. Like she saw me as something broken. I never wanted her to see me like that.

A knock on the door makes me tense. My breath catches. "Go away." My voice is weak, but firm.

Another knock. Persistent. "I said go away! Please... just leave me alone."

Silence. Then, after a moment, the door creaks open. I don't need to look to know who it is. Valeria.

She doesn't say anything at first. She just steps inside and shuts the door behind her. I keep my eyes on the sheets, refusing to meet her gaze. I can feel her watching me. The weight of it presses down on my chest.

Then, finally, she speaks. Her voice is quieter than usual, almost hesitant. "It's the first time you've avoided my eyes."

I press my lips together, gripping the fabric of the blanket. "Go away." The words barely come out.

But she doesn't. She moves closer. I sense it before I see it. And for some reason, I let her.

That's when I notice her hand. Bruised. Scraped. Blood dried along her knuckles. My breath catches. I sit up without thinking.

"Valeria..." My voice is barely above a whisper.

Her eyes flicker with something unreadable, but she doesn't pull away.

I hesitate before slowly reaching out, my fingers brushing against her wrist. When she doesn't move, I take her hand carefully, turning it over to examine the wound.

She lets me. The realization sinks in. She's letting me.

"What happened?" My thumb grazes a fresh bruise, and her fingers twitch, but she doesn't pull away.

She shrugs, voice flat. "The wall."

I blink. "The... wall?"

She nods. A silence passes. Then—I laugh.

It slips out before I can stop it. Quiet at first, then fuller. Not because it's funny, but because it's so ridiculous and so Valeria. She tilts her head, watching me with curiosity.

"It was looking at me funny."

I shake my head, still laughing softly. "The wall?"

She nods again, completely serious. I laugh harder, wiping my face. The tears that had been threatening to fall for the past hour are no longer from pain.

Valeria's lips twitch, like she's trying not to smile.

"You're insane." The words slip out before I can stop them.

She shrugs, finally allowing the corner of her mouth to curve up—just slightly. "So I've been told."

The moment lingers. Something fragile. Something I don't want to shatter. I look down at her knuckles again, my fingers still gently holding her hand. "Wait here."

I get up, stepping into the bathroom and grabbing the first-aid kit. When I return, she's still standing by the bed, watching me carefully. I sit down in front of her and pat the spot beside me. She hesitates but eventually sits.

I open the kit and take out antiseptic wipes. "Does it hurt?" I ask, focused on cleaning the wound.

She doesn't answer right away. Then, in a softer voice than I've ever heard from her, she finally asks, "Why?"

I pause, looking up. "Why what?"

"Why are you doing this?" She looks down at her hand in mine. "Even now, I came here to see if you were okay, and here you are, pushing everything aside, focused on my hand like it's your biggest concern." Her voice is raw, almost confused. "Why are you treating me like this? You know who I am. You know I don't deserve it. And yet, why?"

Something twists deep inside me. "You saved me." My voice wavers, tears pooling in my eyes.

Valeria's expression shifts. It's not the first time I've said it. But this time, she's actually listening.

I feel her fingers wrap around my hand—a silent acknowledgment. A silent thank you.

She isn't just letting me touch her. She's holding my hand. I freeze, my breath catching.

Then, her voice comes out—quiet. Almost hesitant. "I am not like them."

I suck in a breath, realizing what she means. She's thinking about Dani's words. About everything that was thrown in her face in front of everyone.

I shake my head immediately. "Valeria, don't. You don't ever need to say that to me." I squeeze her hand tighter, looking into her eyes. "I know who you are."

Something flickers in her gaze. Something unspoken. "You are my safe place." The second the words leave my mouth, she tenses.

And then—she looks away. She pulls her hand back, breaking the contact.

"You don't know who I am." Her voice is distant, detached. "You don't know anything about my life... my past."

It's the first time I've ever seen her look vulnerable. "Then tell me." I search her eyes, but she still won't meet my gaze.

She inhales deeply, then— "I need to go back to the neighborhood."

The air leaves my lungs. I shake my head. "We talked about this. I'm not letting you go."

Her expression hardens. "They don't know it was me yet, but if I don't go and report to them soon, they will. Staying here is like painting a target on my back." Her voice is calm, but there's an underlying tension beneath it. "If I disappear, they'll know. They'll start looking. And when they find me—" She stops, exhaling sharply. "You think keeping me locked away in this house protects me? It doesn't. It just delays the inevitable."

"No," I say firmly. "You can't ask me that. You can't ask me to let you go." Her gaze softens just slightly. "What if I promise you that I'll come back?"

My body tenses. "Valeria, no..." I beg her, voice trembling.

She takes a deep breath. "I will leave here tonight, when it's dark. Without anyone seeing me. And I will be back for you."

I shake my head rapidly. "Don't leave me, Val." All I want to do is hold on to her. But I keep my distance. Valeria's eyes soften, just for a moment. Then, she asks the question I can never say no to.

"Do you trust me?" I swallow hard. She already knows my answer.

"With my life." She gives me a weak smile, her fingers curling around the pocketknife that was on my bed. "I'll come back to return this to you."

Valeria's fingers tighten around the pocketknife—the same one I gave her, the one she once rejected. Now she holds it like a promise.

Like a goodbye.

I stand abruptly, my heart hammering against my ribs. "Valeria, please—"

She looks at me then, really looks at me, and something shifts in her expression. Like this is just as hard for her as it is for me. My throat tightens. I don't care about inevitable. I care about now. About the fact that for the first time since I got back, I feel safe.

And she's the reason why.

I step closer, my fingers curling into fists at my sides. "Then let me go with you."

Valeria's eyes widen slightly, and then she scoffs, shaking her head. "No. Absolutely not."

"I don't care about the risk—"

"Well, I do!" she snaps, voice laced with frustration. "You have no idea what they'll do if they see you there. You can't just walk into my world, Emilia. You don't belong in it."

She doesn't say it to be cruel. But it hurts just the same.

I bite my lip, swallowing the lump in my throat. "And you do?"

Valeria's jaw clenches, and she looks away. "I don't have a choice."

She starts to turn toward the door.

No. No, no, no!

My chest aches as desperation claws at my ribs. She's leaving. I can't let her leave like this. Before I can think, before I can talk myself out of it, I reach for her wrist.

She stops and I step closer, my voice barely above a whisper. "Swear to me." She turns slightly, watching me with guarded eyes.

"Swear to me that you'll come back." Valeria's gaze holds mine, something flickering in her hazel depths—hesitation, conflict, maybe even regret.

She doesn't answer right away. Her silence is torture.

I grip her wrist tighter, my heart pounding in my chest. "Swear it." My voice is desperate, raw, breaking apart at the edges. "Swear to me that you'll come back."

Her throat bobs as she swallows, her jaw tightening for a moment before she speaks. "I will."

It's just two words. Just a whisper. But they don't feel like enough. I shake my head. "That's not good enough."

She exhales sharply, turning to fully face me. "Emilia—" I cut her off. "Say it properly. Swear on something real."

Valeria stares at me for a long moment, something deep and unreadable in her expression. Then, slowly, she lifts the pocketknife.

"I swear on this," she says, voice steady. "its the only thing I have."

My breath catches. The air between us shifts, heavy and suffocating.

"That's not true," I say, looking deep in her eyes, hoping she can feel the sincerity in me, " You have me."

Valeria holds my gaze for another moment before she gently pries my fingers from her wrist.

"Go to sleep, princess." Her voice is soft, almost affectionate. "I'll be back before you even miss me."

I already miss you.

The words sit heavy on my tongue, but I can't say them. She takes a step back, then another. I don't stop her this time.

I just watch as she slips out the door and disappears