The courtroom was silent, yet the weight in the air was suffocating.
Roselle sat in the front row, hands clenched together so tightly her knuckles turned white. Her heart pounded as she watched her father, Muhammad Aish Faizal take his seat at the defendant’s table.
He looked smaller under the harsh courtroom lights, his usually composed face unreadable.
For weeks, she had fought for this.
For weeks, she had convinced herself that she needed to see him say it.
A judge. A jury. A room full of strangers.
She wanted to hear the truth in front of them all.
The prosecutor stood. “Your Honor, the state calls Muhammad Aish Faizal to the stand.”
The bailiff approached Faizal, holding out a Quran. He placed his hand on it, his movements slow, deliberate.
“Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?”
A pause. Then, in a voice almost too soft to hear—
“I do.”
Roselle’s stomach twisted.
Her lawyer rose next, stepping toward the witness stand. “Mr. Faizal, let's start with the night of Katelyn Everlyn’s murder. Can you recount the events?”
A deep breath. Faizal’s eyes flickered toward Roselle before settling on the lawyer.
“She was leaving,” he said. “She had packed a bag. She told me she was taking Roselle with her.”
A murmur rippled through the courtroom.
“And how did you react?”
His fingers tightened on the stand. “I was angry.”
Roselle’s breath caught.
“I told her she couldn’t take Roselle,” he continued, voice strained. “I told her we could fix things. But she… she wouldn’t listen.”
He swallowed hard.
“And then?”
A long silence.
“I grabbed her,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t mean to hurt her. I just wanted her to stop. To listen.”
The prosecutor’s voice was sharp. “But she didn’t stop, did she?”
Faizal’s jaw clenched.
“No.”
The courtroom fell into dead silence.
Tears burned in Roselle’s eyes.
“Did you kill her, Mr. Faizal?”
Another pause. Then..
“Yes.”
Roselle squeezed her eyes shut.
It wasn’t a forced confession.
It wasn’t a misunderstanding.
It was the truth.
Cold. Brutal. Unforgivable.
And this time, she couldn’t run from it.
The courtroom was silent, the air thick with anticipation.
Roselle could hear her heartbeat in her ears, a steady, relentless pounding that reminded her of how real this moment was. She clenched her fists under the table, her nails pressing into her palms to ground herself. The words rang in her ears, deafening despite the absolute silence in the courtroom.
"Yes."
The single word that shattered everything she had tried to rebuild.
Roselle sat frozen, her body betraying the storm raging inside her. She wanted to scream. She wanted to stand up and demand he take it back, to tell her that he was lying, that it wasn’t him, that the years she spent defending him weren’t wasted.
But she couldn’t move. Her fingers trembled as she covered her mouth, forcing back the sob threatening to escape.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Darren shift beside her, his hand twitching like he wanted to reach for her but knew better. No one dared to move.
The judge cleared his throat. “Mr. Faizal, are you fully aware of your admission?”
Faizal nodded, his shoulders slumping. “I am.”
Roselle finally found her voice, but it was weak, cracked. “Why?”
Her father turned to her then, his expression wrecked with something she couldn’t place, regret, shame, maybe even love. But love shouldn’t have been in the same breath as murder.
She shot up from her seat, her legs unsteady beneath her. “Why? Why now? Why did you let me—" Her voice broke. "Why did you let me believe in you?”
A hush fell over the courtroom.
Faizal inhaled shakily. “Because I was a coward.”
Roselle let out a sharp, broken laugh, but there was nothing humorous about it. “A coward?” Her vision blurred with tears. “You let me fight for you. You let me stand here and look like a fool for you!”
Her father’s hands curled into fists. “I never asked you to. You wanted to seek the truth, to deny for the fact that I murdered your mother. Regrets in me couldn't ever heal this wound on you.”
“But you didn’t stop me!” she shot back, the words laced with betrayal. “You let me throw away everything for you! And now, when it’s too late, when I’ve ruined myself for you. You decide to tell me the truth?”
A tear slipped down her cheek, then another. The weight of her grief, her anger, her exhaustion crushed her all at once.
The room blurred. The walls closed in.
She felt her knees give out.
Strong arms caught her before she could hit the floor. Darren. His voice was a distant echo, telling her to breathe, to calm down, but how could she?
Her father was still looking at her, his eyes pleading. “Roselle—”
“Don’t,” she choked out, shaking her head. “You don’t get to say my name.”
Security moved toward him as the judge banged the gavel, calling for order.
But there was no order here.
Not in her heart. Not in her mind.
Everything was chaos.
"Roselle.. My beloved Roselle." His voice was so quiet now. "I’m sorry." 
Sorry.
Sorry.
Sorry wouldn’t bring her mother back. Sorry wouldn’t erase the nights she spent defending him, the years she spent hating the world for taking him from her.
The whole court being empty, leaving her in agony. Her legs gave out, and Darren caught her just before she hit the floor.
She couldn’t breathe.
She couldn’t think.
The truth had set her free.
But why did it feel like it had broken her instead?