Episode 3: Bad Omen

Episode 3: The Weight of Accusation

After everything that had happened, Ama could barely keep her eyes open. Exhaustion pulled her into a deep sleep.

Somewhere in the darkness, she felt a presence. Gentle hands brushed against her forehead, fingers running carefully over the dried blood in her hair. A faint sting followed, as if someone was applying an ointment. The touch was careful, almost... familiar.

Her breathing slowed. Who was it?

Before she could force her eyes open, the feeling faded, and sleep consumed her again.

The next morning, the sound of voices pulled her back to reality.

She forced herself out of bed and walked downstairs, finding her parents in the living room, their suitcases packed.

"We have to leave, Ama," her mother said. "The company's other branch is struggling—we can't afford to lose it."

Ama's chest tightened. Now? Of all times?

Her lips parted, ready to protest, but the look in her father's eyes told her it was useless. They had already decided.

"Take care of yourself," her mother said, cupping Ama's face before turning away.

The door shut behind them.

Silence.

A knot formed in her throat, but before she could process the loneliness creeping in, a sharp knock at the door made her jump.

When she opened it, Mark stood there.

But something about him was different.

His usual composed expression was gone—his eyes burned with something raw, something accusing.

"You ran away." His voice was sharp, like a blade pressing against her skin.

Ama blinked. "What?"

"At the university. The second you saw the police, you left."

She shook her head, confused. "I wasn't—Mark, I was feeling nauseous, I—"

"Lie." His voice was ice. "Lie, lie, lie. That's all you ever do."

Ama stiffened.

"Because of you, Kayol was suspected," Mark continued, his jaw clenched, his breathing uneven. "She was interrogated. Humiliated." His hands curled into fists. "And now, she's dead."

The world seemed to tilt.

Ama's breath caught in her throat.

"What...?" The word barely escaped her lips.

"She killed herself."

It felt like something had slammed into her chest, knocking the air out of her lungs.

"No..." Ama whispered, stepping back. "No, she wouldn't. She—"

"You did this."

The words hit her harder than a physical blow.

Her ears rang.

Her hands trembled.

For a moment, she couldn't even think.

"You killed her," Mark spat.

Ama snapped.

"SHUT THE HELL UP!" Her voice cracked as she screamed, and suddenly, the walls she had built around herself shattered.

Tears streamed down her face as rage and pain exploded from within her.

"Every damn time, Mark! Every time something happens, you look at me like I'm a murderer!" Her body shook, her chest rising and falling with uneven breaths. "Your mom died, you blamed me. Jade died, you blamed me. And now Kayol? You don't even stop to think! You just throw your accusations at me and expect me to take it!"

Mark opened his mouth, but she cut him off.

"I am human too, Mark!" Her voice cracked, the weight of everything finally crushing her. "Do you even realize how terrified I am? How lost I feel? Every single second, I feel like I'm drowning! And instead of helping me, you push me deeper!"

Her vision blurred with tears, her shoulders trembling.

Mark's expression flickered—something like guilt crossed his face.

He took a step forward. "Ama, I—"

"No." Her voice was hollow now. "Just get out."

He hesitated.

"I said GET OUT!" she screamed.

For a moment, he looked like he wanted to say something. But then, without another word, he turned and walked away.

The door shut behind him.

Ama stood frozen.

Her entire body felt drained, like she had nothing left inside her.

Her vision swam as she stumbled towards the couch, her breath shaky.

Everything was falling apart.

Ama couldn't stay inside anymore. The walls were suffocating her.

She walked through the empty streets, her head heavy with exhaustion.

She sat on a bench in the park, watching the children playing, trying to focus on anything but the crushing weight inside her.

Someone sat beside her.

She didn't need to look to know who it was.

Atlas.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice hollow.

He leaned back, gazing at the sky. "Just giving you company."

Ama didn't respond.

After a moment, Atlas spoke again. "I heard a girl from our university committed suicide."

Ama flinched.

Atlas turned his head slightly, watching her. "You don't want to talk about it, do you?"

She shook her head.

A long silence stretched between them.

Then, his voice softened.

"You ever wonder if I'm bad luck for you?"

Ama's breath hitched.

She turned to him, but he wasn't looking at her.

His expression was unreadable.

Her stomach twisted.

And just like that, the episode ended.