After the Storm

The city never truly slept—but tonight, it felt like it should have.

The skyline was smeared in bruised gray, the moonlight trying to pierce through heavy clouds with no real warmth. It was the kind of night that didn't promise safety—just the end of a long, violent night.

Selen stood outside her apartment building with Elira and Nyra by her side. Their heels were long gone, bare feet raw and aching from the chase. Party dresses hung off their bodies like wilted petals, after rain. Glitter clung stubbornly to their skin, the last echo of a celebration that had turned into something else entirely.

No one said a word.

Selen's hands trembled as she fumbled with her keys, the metal jangling too loudly in the silence. It wasn't the cold that made her shake.

It was everything that had happened before the sky began to bleed light.

The lock clicked. The door opened.

Inside, the air felt thick—too still, too normal. It made the whole night seem like a bad dream.

Elira collapsed onto the couch, fragile as glass, burying her face in her hands. Her shoulders curled in, the weight of panic finally catching up.

Nyra stood just inside the doorway, unmoving.The gun was still in her hand.

She hadn't spoken since they stopped running.

Selen approached her carefully, like she might break if touched too hard. Her voice was soft, but firm.

"Give it to me, Nyra."

Nyra's eyes were wide—haunted. Her fingers tightened around the grip for a moment... then she let it go. Slowly. Like she was handing over a curse she couldn't carry anymore.

Selen wrapped the gun in a kitchen towel without a word and shoved it into the drawer beneath the sink. Out of sight. But not out of mind.

"Oh, great. Let's just throw it in a drawer and pretending We're totally not screwed," Elira whispered with a shaky, broken laugh.

Selen turned, her voice harder now. "Not if we think. We're alive and that means we have a chance. We just have to stay ahead of them."

Nyra finally moved, curling onto the couch beside Elira, hugging her knees to her chest like a scared child.

"Did You see how they moved??," she whispered. "That wasn't some random fight. That was organized —Military. And that guy—he came out of nowhere. Like he knew where we'd be."

Selen nodded, jaw tight. "Which means they'll find us again if we're not careful."

Silence settled in the room like dust—thick, uncomfortable, suffocating.

Then Elira's voice cracked through it. "Selen... when that man looked at you, before everything went to hell—you froze. Like you knew him."

Selen looked away. Her heart twisted.

"I don't know him," Her voice didn't even sound convincing to her own ears. "But... his eyes. I've seen eyes like that before."

"Where?" Elira asked softly.

Selen hesitated.

The memory clawed at her, rising from some locked corner of her mind: the dull hum of fluorescent lights . An empty road .Rain falling like a cursed. A Biker — bleeding . Eyes hollow. Soul gone.

"Long story," she said finally, voice tight. "But we need to focus. No police. No hospital. We lay low until I figure out what they want."

Elira blinked. "You say that like you know how this works."

Selen didn't answer. Because maybe... she did.And that was the terrifying part.

A door creaked open. A figure stepped into living room.

Their breath caught.

Mr. Lee.

Her father.

The man who used to wear his badge like armor. The same man who, just hours earlier, had warned them:

"I don't want you girls roaming the city past midnight. Not with what's going on lately."

He looked at them.

"I told you — no roaming the city this late ! ," he barked, voice cutting through the air like a blade. "What the hell were you thinking ?"

Selen stood first, instinctively wiping her hands on her dress like she could clean the fear off her skin.

"Dad..."

Elira stumbled up beside her, shoes in hand, hair tangled.

Nyra followed, head lowered, guilt radiating off her.

Mr. Lee stepped forward. His eyes swept over them—smeared mascara, dirt-stained hems, the unmistakable look of girls who had run for their lives.

"Do you even know what time it is?"

None of them answered. Selen swallowed hard, she opened her mouth but not a single word came.

"I told you to come home right after the party."

"We got... delayed," Elira muttered. "Lost track of time."

His brow furrowed. "And what kind of party leaves you looking like you just ran from a war zone?"

Nyra tried to joke, her voice brittle.

"Long night. Too many drinks. You know how birthdays go."

Selen forced something close to a smile. It felt wrong on her face.

"We're okay, Dad. Just tired."

"You're not okay."His voice dropped. "You're lying."His gaze cut to her arms. "You're shaking."

She looked down and cursed under her breath.

"I—I'm just cold," she mumbled, folding her arms quickly.

He stepped closer, searching her face with that sharp, unrelenting look she remembered from when he used to interrogate suspects. His instincts were too good. He knew something had happened.

But mercifully, he didn't press.

"Inside your room. Now. All of you."

They obeyed, walking in silence.

The hallway lights felt too warm. Too clean.

Like a lie.

Selen could hardly breathe. It felt like stepping into someone else's life—one where none of this had happened. Where blood hadn't hit her shoes. Where a man in a mask hadn't looked at her like she belonged to him.

"Go wash up. Then I want the truth," Mr. Lee demanded, heading toward the kitchen.

But he paused at the corner.

Glanced back.

Just for a moment.

Just long enough.

He knew. Not the whole story. But enough to be afraid.

Upstairs, Elira shut her bedroom door and leaned against it like she was trying to hold the world out.

"What are we going to do?" she whispered.

Selen dropped onto the bed, her body finally sagging under the weight of it all. Her hands buried in her hair.

Nyra sat beside her, voice trembling.

"I shot someone, Sel."

Selen closed her eyes. "I know."

She looked down at her hands.

"And that man... the one who stared at us... he's not going to forget our faces."

Outside, the street was quiet again. But it wasn't peace.

It was a warning.This wasn't the end.

This was the beginning of something far more dangerous than any of them were prepared for.

___

12:21 AM

Mr. Lee hadn't slept.

Even with the lights off, the house quiet, and the robe wrapped around his shoulders, sleep had never come. It was just instinct at this point—years on the force trained him to know when something wasn't right.

And tonight… something was wrong. Very wrong.He felt it in his bones.

So when he heard the creak of the front steps, he was already by the door. Silent. Watching. Waiting.

Then he saw them.

Three girls.

Disheveled. Pale. Hair wild, mascara streaked like they'd cried halfway through the night but never finished. Their dresses clung to them, damp with sweat or fear—or both. No heels. No laughter. Just silence.

It hit him like a punch to the chest. They weren't like that before.

Selen and Elira .

His daughters.

And one their best friend. Girl he'd known since middle school, who used to sneak into his kitchen for snacks and complain about homework like it was life-or-death.

Now they looked like they'd seen death for real.

His voice cut through the night like a blade.

"I told you — no roaming the city this late!, what the hell were you thinking? "

He didn't even try to hide the anger.Not because they disobeyed. But because he knew something had found them out there—something they weren't telling him.

He stepped into the living room and looked them over again. The blood wasn't visible, but the fear was. Clear as day.

"What the hell happened to you?"

Selen stepped forward, her voice quiet.

"Dad…"

She was always the calm one. The one who kept her head. But her hands were shaking. He could see it, even in the soft light bleeding out of the window.

Elira looked dazed. Nyra wouldn't even meet his eyes.

He scanned them all again, slower this time. The silence between their words was louder than anything they could say.

"Do you even know what time it is?" he demanded.

No answer. But he didn't need one – he could smell their fear. Their silent struggle bleeding into the room.

"I told you to come home right after the party."

"We got… delayed," Elira whispered, clearly reaching for something that might sound reasonable.

He didn't believe it for a second.

"And what kind of party leaves you looking like you just ran from a war zone?"

That made Nyra crack. She tried to laugh, but it was dry, strained, all the edges sharp.

"Long night. Too many drinks. You know how birthdays go."

Bullsh*t.

He knew panic when he saw it.

And then Selen smiled.... Or tried to. It didn't reach her eyes.

"We're okay, Dad. Just tired."

"You're not okay." His voice dropped.

"You're lying."

He pointed at her arms. "You're shaking, Selen. "

She looked down, surprised. Like even she hadn't noticed until now.

"I—I'm just cold," she mumbled, folding her arms like she could hide from the truth.

But she couldn't hide from him.

He stepped forward. His detective instincts—dormant but never dead—flicked back to life. That tick in her jaw when she was scared. The way Nyra hovered behind the others. The silence Elira never usually held this long.

Something happened.Something really bad.

But he didn't push. Not yet.

"Inside your room. Now. All of you."

They filed past him like ghosts.

As the door shut, he stood in the front hall a moment longer, watching their backs disappear into the room. He listened to the stairs creak as they climbed up, the muffled sound of a bedroom door closing.

He exhaled slowly. The night air still clung to his lungs like smoke.

His daughters—because that's what they all were to him—were hiding something.

And whatever it was…

It had teeth. And it was already sicking them in.

---

In the kitchen, he poured a glass of water and set it down without drinking.

He opened the drawer under the sink to grab a napkin—

And he froze when he found a towel. Too neatly folded. Too heavy.

He pulled it back carefully. His breath caught in his throat , eyes wide.

A gun!. Loaded.

Hidden. Sloppy, but not panicked. Done in a rush. Like whoever stashed it knew how to hide evidence—but didn't have time to think it through.

Mr. Lee stood motionless, staring at the weapon.

He recognized it immediately. Compact. Familiar.

His hand hovered over it, but he didn't touch it.Not yet....

Not until he knew why it was here. And who they had needed it for.

And then –

He heard muffled, Quiet and Tired voices came from upstairs.

"I shot someone, Sel."

He closed his eyes.His heart skipped a beat.

" so that was it ."

He took a slow breath.

His daughters had stepped into something dark.

And now?

He was going to step in after her.

[ To be continue..]