Kana walked Luna to the door, both of them still a little flushed from laughter and the adrenaline of near-boss-death moments. As Luna slipped on her shoes, Kana leaned against the wall with her arms crossed but her expression soft.
"You sure you'll be alright heading back alone?" Kana asked, her brow furrowed just slightly.
Luna smiled and nodded. "Yeah. The driver's already waiting downstairs. And I've got a security detail now, remember? Like I'm some kind of VIP or endangered species."
Kana rolled her eyes playfully. "You are a VIP. And definitely a rare kind of weirdo."
Luna laughed, but then the humor faded into something warmer. She stepped forward and opened her arms, and Kana didn't hesitate.
They hugged tightly — not rushed, not fleeting — just still and steady.
"You'll always have me, you know that?" Kana murmured against Luna's shoulder. "No matter what happens."
Luna's arms tightened around her. "You'll always have me too, Kana. Always."
They pulled apart slowly, giving each other one last fond smile. Luna turned to leave, her heart fuller than it had been in a long while.
As the black sedan pulled into the circular driveway, the front doors opened before Luna even stepped out. Emmerich stood there, arms crossed with a gentle smile.
Luna bounded up the steps, a little winded but cheerful.
"Look at me, home before curfew," she grinned. "I think that deserves at least a bronze medal."
Emmerich arched a brow. "Just making sure you don't turn into a gremlin after dark. I heard they get especially mischievous if fed after dinner."
Luna let out a bright laugh that echoed softly through the front hall. "Too late. I already had a cookie. I'm halfway there."
They walked into the dining room together, the chandeliers casting a golden warmth over the table. Dinner was light — both in meal and in mood — roasted chicken, buttered vegetables, and soft bread rolls.
There was laughter between bites, subtle teasing, and long looks that said more than words — Emmerich watching his daughter heal piece by piece, and Luna silently thanking him with every new smile.
As they finished, Luna leaned back in her seat, satisfied.
"Today was good," she said, softly but with certainty. "Hard. But good."
Emmerich raised his wine glass just slightly in agreement.
"To more good days then," he said.
Luna smiled. "To more good days."
The soft hum of the air purifier filled the room with a gentle white noise, broken only by the quiet purring of Milo as he curled against Luna's lap. She had just finished brushing him with the soft bristle glove she found in one of the grooming kits the maids organized — a subtle way of pampering the little guardian who had refused to leave her side since she came home.
"Such a spoiled prince," she whispered, kissing the top of his head. Milo purred louder in response, content and warm.
Luna exhaled, sinking into the comfort of her bed. It was only then that she noticed her phone charging on the bedside table — the one she hadn't touched since before therapy and her visit to Kana.
Curious, she picked it up.
"200+ unread messages."
Luna blinked. "That can't be right."
Tapping into her inbox, her eyes widened.
There were messages from everyone.
Ken had sent a dozen chaotic texts laced with all caps and misspelled words:
"LUNAAAA???"
"R U DEAD???"
"OMG IF U R A GHOST AND SEEING THIS MSG, HAUNT ME AT THE CAFE SO I KNOW UR OKAY"
"PLZ DON'T QUIT I ALREADY HAVE 3 SHIFTS THIS WEEK"
"OK BUT SRSLY R U OKAY"
Luna snorted softly and quickly typed a reply:
Luna: I'm okay, Ken. Alive, not a ghost. I won't abandon my shift after renovation — promise.
PS: Stop yelling through texts or I will haunt you.
She could almost imagine him collapsing in dramatic relief wherever he was.
Next was George — more reserved, but still frantic:
"Luna, we heard something happened near the cafe. Are you safe? Please reply when you can."
"Maria is worried too. We're hoping it was just a false report."
"Call if you need anything — anything, alright?"
Luna's heart warmed. She replied swiftly:
Luna: I'm fine, George. It was real, but I got out safe. Please tell Maria I wasn't hurt physically. Just… a bit shaken.
I've started therapy. I'll get through this.
Thank you for worrying.
Lastly, there was Emilio, her popular and still sly childhood friend who hadn't reached out before until she met him as her cousins' friend now he suddenly left a flood of messages:
"Are you alright?"
"Heard something weird near the cafe. Couldn't sleep."
"If you're okay, just send a dot."
"Luna, please."
Luna smiled and typed:
Luna: I'm okay, Emilio. Thank you for worrying.
Don't lose sleep over me.
I'm back home and recovering. Slowly. But I'll be okay.
Then, surprisingly, a series of messages from her cousins, Sebas and Cass, people she hadn't seen for weeks now:
"Hey, heard about the incident. Are you alive?"
"You should think about making a will. Cuz we bet you, this might happen again."
"PS. Learn some self-defense, better yet, learn how to use a gun, dear cousin."
Luna paused, taken aback.
She snorted at their cocky message still she kind off see some concern in their message. She shall be generous and give them the benefit of the doubt.
Luna: Thank you. I didn't know you cared… now I'm really touched.
And I'll be okay.
So let me beat you in darts soon.
Setting the phone down, Luna lay back, a blanket of quiet gratitude settling over her. Her body still ached slightly, and her mind wasn't fully free — but she wasn't alone.
She was far from alone.
Milo nuzzled against her arm and Luna scratched him gently, smiling as she whispered:
"Maybe I really will be okay…"
And with that quiet thought, Luna drifted off to sleep — not chased by nightmares this time, but by the comforting weight of love she hadn't realized was always there.
Mist clung to the hedges like whispers of dreams not yet faded, and the marble paths of the sprawling estate glistened with dew. Luna stood by the starting marker she'd set for herself — a tiny ribbon tied to a low iron gate.
Her breath came out in soft puffs as she rolled her shoulders, stretched her arms, and took her first step.
Each lap around the estate was just under a kilometer. Not overly long, but hilly enough to punish. Her body still wasn't used to it — her calves complained, her lungs burned faster than they should — but Luna moved.
Not because someone told her to.
But because she chose to.
Every step, every breath that caught and staggered, was her answer to the question why did you survive when others didn't?
She didn't know the full answer yet. But she could build one, piece by piece.
By the end of the third lap, sweat rolled down her temples and her shirt clung uncomfortably to her back. She slowed to a walk, panting, her body trembling slightly — but her spine stayed straight.
She made it.
"Three…" she gasped, pressing a hand to her chest. "Again."
This time, as she looked at the rising sun spilling over the wrought-iron fences, she didn't just carry the weight of the dead…
She carried the weight of love.
The love of those who fought for her.
The love of Kana.
The warmth in George's words.
Ken's dramatic yelling.
Even her cousins' concern.
Her father's steady devotion.
And that weight, though heavy, strengthened her.
Freshly showered, hair still damp at the ends, Luna stepped into the dining room to find Emmerich already there, reading over reports as he sipped coffee. He looked up immediately when she entered, eyes flicking over her with quick, practiced detail—checking if she was limping, pale, or in distress.
When he saw she was none of those things — and instead, brimming with quiet pride — he set the papers aside.
"You look flushed," he said mildly, pouring her a glass of orange juice.
"Three laps again." Luna took the drink and smiled. "Still nearly coughed out a lung, but I made it."
Emmerich's smile was subtle but genuine. "I'll call the family physician to monitor your vitals after breakfast."
Luna groaned, sitting down. "Dad, I'm building stamina, not dying."
He arched a brow. "A good physician will know the difference. Humor your old man."
She chuckled, taking a sip.
After a few moments of peaceful eating, Luna glanced up. "I'll be heading to therapy again today. I think I can go alone to the therapy wing this time."
Emmerich set his fork down, looking at her steadily. "Are you sure? I don't mind walking you. Not at all."
Luna paused — and saw the soft concern in her father's eyes, the same eyes that saw her through so much already.
And though she was trying to stand more on her own, she realized something:
Accepting care isn't weakness.
So she smiled and said gently, "I know. But I also saw you checking over those reports like they personally offended you."
Emmerich snorted softly.
"You don't have to wait for me," Luna continued. "But if you want to walk me there… I'd like that."
Emmerich stood, smoothing his vest. "I always have time for you, Luna."
She rolled her eyes fondly. "Stop spoiling me. I'm trying to build independence here."
"And I'm trying to enjoy being your father before you start turning down my help entirely."
That made Luna laugh — an easy, bright sound.
And so, side by side, they walked the path together.
One step at a time — not toward forgetting the past, but becoming stronger with it.
The polished floors of the therapy wing gleamed in the soft light filtering through frosted windows. The quiet was thick, broken only by the faint ticking of a hallway clock.
Emmerich walked with Luna down the corridor, his stride steady, but his shoulders just a little too tense. When they reached the door marked Dr. Falne, he slowed to a stop.
Luna glanced at him. "Dad, I'll be okay."
He looked at the door. Then at her.
Dr. Falne herself opened it, a calm presence wrapped in a tailored blouse and soft-toned glasses. "Good morning," she greeted gently. "Luna. Mr. Arklight."
Emmerich gave a tight nod.
"I appreciate your escort," Dr. Falne said kindly, "but I assure you—Luna is more than capable of navigating the work we're doing. Therapy is most effective when it's built on the patient's own pace and will."
Emmerich hesitated for a long moment, then exhaled. "You're right," he muttered. "But if anything feels off—"
"I'll be sure to tell you myself," Luna promised, squeezing his arm. "Go. The world won't run itself."
Emmerich gave her a long look before finally nodding. "I'll be back in an hour."
Then he turned and walked away—still reluctantly, still with that backward glance. But he left.
Luna sat on the same soft couch as before, her hair still damp from her morning jog. The sunlight fell over the corner of the room, warm and clean.
Dr. Falne sat across from her, notebook in hand but expression open.
"Let's start with something gentle," she offered. "How was yesterday, after our first session? Did you feel… any shifts, small or large?"
Luna blinked, surprised. "I… I didn't think I did," she said slowly. "But now that you're asking… I guess some things did feel different."
"Take your time," Dr. Falne encouraged, voice soft but steady.
Luna leaned back against the cushions. "Well… I jogged again. And it felt less like punishing myself and more like… I was claiming something. Even breakfast with my dad felt lighter. Kana and I hung out, and even just talking with her, I noticed I wasn't trying to make everything seem fine. I just… was."
She looked down at her hands. "And that was new."
Dr. Falne smiled lightly. "That's called awareness, Luna. You're tuning in to yourself instead of bypassing. That awareness—of your body, your reactions, your voice—is the door to healing. It doesn't need to be dramatic. It just needs to be real."
Luna was quiet for a beat, and then gave a small nod. "It felt… good."
AFTER THERAPY…
The library in the Arklight estate was a place of quiet grandeur—rows of old wood, velvet chairs, tall windows draped in heavy green curtains.
Luna entered her private suite attached to the library: a smaller, sunlit room with her own desk, coffee maker, and shelves stacked with research materials.
She pulled out her laptop and typed:
"Arklight Renewables—Parent Company, Focus, Legal Affairs, Corporate Mission."
A wave of articles flooded her screen.
She started reading.
Words like energy transition, carbon displacement, climate neutral innovations painted a picture she had only vaguely known. Arklight wasn't just an alternative energy firm—it was at the center of a brutal industrial evolution, pushing back against long-standing global powers rooted in oil, mining, and heavy manufacturing.
Lawsuits. Lobbying wars. Political pushback. Espionage attempts.
And through all that—Emmerich Arklight, relentless and poised, stood at the eye of the storm.
Luna sat back, stunned.
So much of her life had been shaped by the gentle presence of her father at the breakfast table, his dry wit, his quiet support. But now she was seeing just how many people might want him—and even her—out of the picture.
And she'd only just scraped the surface.
Luna exhaled slowly and whispered to herself:
"So this is the world I've stepped into."
Her fingers hovered above the keyboard.
She wasn't backing down.