Chapter 80:The Unclaimed Echoes

Maya wasn't thinking.

The alcohol had worn off, but something heavier had settled in its place—a whisper in the back of her mind.

She didn't know why she turned down that road. Didn't know what she was looking for.

Until she saw it.

Noor's car.

Parked. Abandoned. Silent.

Her pulse spiked.

Then, she saw them.

Bloody footprints.

Leading into the trees.

Her stomach twisted.

She followed.

---

Maya pushed through the trees, her breath uneven.

And then what she saw was the red.

The spring meant to be clear_____ was tainted.

And Noor—

Noor was sitting in the center of it.

Half-submerged.

Her silk dress clung to her, soaked, arms resting over jagged rocks, her eyes slightly open—but empty.

Like she had been left there.

Like she was waiting to disappear.

Maya's throat went dry. "Madam Noor?"

Silence.

Then—Noor exhaled.

"Do you know why people destroy themselves, Maya?"

Maya stilled.

The question came out of nowhere.

It was too calm.

Maya took a step forward. "Madam, we need to—"

"They don't fall because they are weak," Noor continued, voice smooth, almost indulgent. "They fall because they want to know if someone will catch them."

Maya's fingers twitched. "You're bleeding. Let me—"

Noor laughed.

"Do you think pain makes people stronger, Maya?" Her fingers traced the water, disturbing the blood that clung to the surface. "No. Pain just makes people disappear."

Maya's chest tightened. "Then what does suffering do?"

Noor smiled faintly, her head tilting slightly.

"It teaches you who enjoys watching."

A sharp inhale.

Maya took another step forward. "Enough. We're leaving—"

Noor's lashes fluttered.

Her breath slowed.

Her body tilted.

Then—she collapsed.

Maya's chest seized. "No—!"

She reached her in seconds, catching her before her head hit the stone.

Noor's skin was too cold.

Her body—too light.

Maya pressed a shaking hand against Noor's cheek. "Wake up. Please, wake up—"

Nothing.

"What is happening"—Maya panicked.

_________

The beeping of the hospital monitor was steady.

A pulse. A lie.

Noor sat on the edge of the bed, unhooked from the IV, fingers grazing the spot where the needle had been. She had been awake for thirteen minutes.

Maya had been watching her for all thirteen.

Noor had said nothing. Hadn't moved beyond that small, idle motion.

Then, finally—she spoke.

"Why did you follow me?"

Maya exhaled sharply. "Because you left."

Noor tilted her head slightly. "And you assumed I shouldn't have."

Maya's fingers curled into her sleeves. "You collapsed."

Noor hummed, amused. "And you believed that meant I needed saving."

Maya's stomach turned.

Because Noor's voice held no accusation.

No anger.

---

Noor exhaled, Then, her gaze lifted.

And Maya felt her soul shrink.

"Do you know what the cruelest part of suffering is, Maya?"

Maya hesitated. "What?"

Noor's fingers curled idly against the sheet.

"That it demands an audience."

Maya flinched. "That's not—"

Noor's gaze cut through her. "If pain was truly unbearable, people would end it the moment it began. But they don't."

Maya couldn't breathe.

Noor smiled faintly.

"Because people do not suffer to escape. They suffer to be witnessed."

Silence.

Then—Noor turned her head slightly.

"Tell me, Maya."

Her voice was soft.

"Did you come to save me? Or did you come to see if I would break?"

Maya's breath hitched.

But the truth was settling in her bones. In her stomach.

Heavy. Unshakable.

Because Noor was right.

And that was when the door slammed open.

Zeyla.

Her breath was ragged, uneven.

She had been running.

Her hands shook.

With rage.

"What the hell were you thinking?"

Noor didn't move. Didn't react.

Didn't even acknowledge her.

Zeyla stormed toward the bed, stopping just short of grabbing her.

"You left us."

Noor exhaled softly. "And?"

Zeyla's hands clenched into fists. "And you nearly died."

Noor blinked, Slowly.

Then, she smiled.

"And you cannot decide if that terrifies you or if it offends you."

Zeyla's pulse spiked. "What the hell does that mean?"

Noor's voice was almost gentle.

"It means you do not know whether you are angry that I left—or that I came back."

Maya felt it. The moment Zeyla's confidence broke.

Zeyla's chest rose and fell sharply. "Don't do that."

Noor tilted her head. "Do what?"

Zeyla exhaled, her voice shaking. "Speak like you're already gone."

A pause.

Then—Noor laughed.

But it was the coldest thing Maya had ever heard.

Noor's smile remained.

She turned to Zeyla, voice smooth, effortless.

"Tell me, Zeyla."

Zeyla's breath hitched. "What?"

Noor tilted her head slightly. "If I had not woken up, what would you have done?"

Zeyla clenched her fists. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Noor's eyes darkened.

"Would you have buried me, Zeyla?"

Silence.

Then—the final cut.

"Or would you have followed?"

Maya felt it. The moment Zeyla's breath caught.

The moment everything changed.

Noor leaned back, satisfied.

"Ah. So you do understand."

Zeyla took a step back.

Zeyla exhaled sharply. "So what now, ?"

Noor's lips curved.

"Now?" She tilted her head. "Now I wait."

Maya's hands clenched. "For what?"

Noor's gaze drifted to the window, to the city beyond it, to something far, far away.

"To see how much more I can take before I break."

Silence.

Maya inhaled sharply, shaking her head. "That's not living."

Noor tilted her head slightly.

"Who said I was living?"

Maya and Zeyla froze.

Then—Noor finally looked at them.

And for the first time, her voice carried something that hadn't been there before.

"Tell me, Maya. Tell me, Zeyla."

She exhaled, slow. "When I do break—"

Her gaze sharpened.

"What do you think happens ?"

--------

Yilan sat cross-legged on the couch, swirling her wine. "So, how long are you going to sulk?"

Sanlang barely spared her a glance. "You think I'm sulking?"

"You've been brooding since she left." She sighed dramatically. "Honestly, it's exhausting."

Sanlang leaned back against the chair, eyes half-lidded. "Then leave."

Yilan placed a hand over her heart. "Ouch. That's the gratitude I get for gracing you with my presence?"

Sanlang exhaled through his nose, unimpressed. "You're here because you think apologizing will make me forget what you said."

Yilan groaned. "I was being honest."

"No." Sanlang finally looked at her, his expression cool. "You were being cruel."

Yilan tensed. "I didn't mean—"

"You did." He swirled the liquid in his glass. "People always mean it the first time."

Yilan bit her lip, then sighed. "Fine. I shouldn't have said those things about Noor. Happy?"

Sanlang took a slow sip, his silence stretching.

Yilan frowned. "You could at least acknowledge that I'm trying."

Sanlang's voice was quiet, but sharp. "You think an apology to me fixes it?"

Yilan hesitated. "I—"

"You think words undo contempt?" He tilted his head slightly. "Tell me, Yilan. If I had agreed with you, would you still feel guilty?"

Yilan stiffened. "That's not—"

"Would you?"

Yilan looked away.

Sanlang hummed, amused. "Interesting."

Yilan's grip on her glass tightened. "Fine. Be mad. Be dramatic. But don't act like you've never judged people before."

Sanlang arched a brow. "I judge plenty. But I don't make the mistake of underestimating them."

Yilan crossed her arms. "Oh, and I did?"

"You didn't just underestimate Noor." Sanlang's voice turned almost lazy, almost cruel. "You underestimated me."

Yilan flinched.

Then, quietly, "Lang, I didn't mean—"

Sanlang's gaze darkened. "Don't call me that."

Yilan blinked. "It's your name."

His fingers curled around his glass. "Not anymore."

Yilan hesitated. "It was given to you by—"

"By him." His voice was colder now. "That's exactly why I don't use it."

Silence.

Then, Yilan exhaled, shifting. "Sanlang, then."

Sanlang didn't respond.

Something inside him was twisting. Tightening.

And then—

A sharp, searing pain cracked through his skull.

The glass slipped from his fingers, shattering against the floor.

Darkness swelled at the edges of his vision—

And then—

Blood.

Noor, sitting in a pool of it.

A Tear of blood slipping from her eye.

She looked at him.

Her lips parted—

A whisper.

Then, the world collapsed.

—

Sanlang gasped awake. His chest was rising and falling too fast, sweat slick against his skin.

A hand touched his forehead.

Yilan.

She was crouched beside the couch, brows furrowed. "What the hell was that?"

Another voice cut in.

"Well, that was dramatic."

Ms. Li.

She stood by the bar. "Should I be booking you a doctor, or should we start planning your funeral?"

Sanlang exhaled, pressing a hand to his temple. "Neither."

Yilan wasn't amused. "You passed out, Sanlang."

Ms. Li smirked. "And wasted a perfectly good glass of whiskey."

The vision was still clinging to his skin.

Noor. The blood. That whisper.

Yilan nudged him. "Seriously, what was that?"

Ms. Li crossed her arms. "If this is a new hobby, kindly find a less concerning one."

Sanlang finally looked up.

Then, quietly—

"…A memory."

Ms. Li raised a brow. Yilan's breath hitched.

But Sanlang wasn't looking at them anymore.

He was seeing something else.

Something breaking through.

____________

Noor walked, steady despite the pain, the IV abandoned behind her.

Zeyla's voice was sharp. "How did you get such a deep wound on your back?"

Noor turned slightly, lips curving into a faint smile. "Things tend to break when they try to return home."

Zeyla frowned. "What?"

Maya's voice was quieter. "Would you have cared if Heath was here?"

Noor exhaled slowly, gaze distant. "Dead men tell no tales."

Maya stiffened. Something was off.

Noor's fingers traced the wall as she walked, a whisper of a hum in her throat.

"I held onto something that was never mine to keep," she murmured. "And now…it's slipping away."

Zeyla narrowed her eyes. "What's slipping away?"

Noor chuckled, soft and knowing. "What always belonged to him."

Maya felt something cold settle in her stomach.

Noor finally glanced at them, voice barely above a whisper.

"Things always return to their owner."

Zeyla's pulse spiked. "And what does that make you?"

Noor smiled, the kind that didn't reach her eyes.

"A thief who was never meant to win."

She walked away, leaving behind nothing but questions with no answers.