After the meeting finally ended, and all the necessary documents were filed and cleared, the atmosphere in the room shifted. It was quieter now, like all the noise had been sucked out and left a heavy silence behind. Agent Hale stood up from his seat and nodded toward Miss Gon, a woman whose quiet strength had guided Allison through much of the chaos.
"Thank you for your time," Agent Hale said, his tone formal but respectful. "And for all the information you've provided. We'll keep in touch if anything new comes up."
Miss Gon gave him a polite nod, and without needing to be told, she already started organizing the papers to send a copy back to headquarters.
As Agent Hale stepped closer to the door, he paused and looked over his shoulder. Allison was still sitting there, quiet, distant. Her eyes weren't really in the room. They were lost somewhere else.
"Allison," he said softly.
She blinked and looked up at him, brushing her hair out of her face.
He held out a thin, brown folder, marked with a paperclip at the side. "You asked for this a few weeks ago. Sorry for the delay. It just came in."
She stared at the folder in his hand, unsure whether to take it or just pretend she forgot about it. But she reached out and accepted it.
"Thank you," she whispered.
"Take care," Agent Hale added, then gave one final nod before he stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him.
Now she was alone again. Just her and the silence.
Allison stared down at the folder.
A hundred questions floated in her head.
She remembered asking for it. Late one night when she couldn’t sleep. She sent a message to Hale, asking if there were any surveillance shots, reports, or pictures of Zeyon and the others. She wasn’t even sure why she did it. Maybe she just missed them. Maybe she wanted to know if they were okay, if they were moving on without her.
She hesitated.
Her fingers trembled a little as she slid the folder open. She took a breath and pulled out the contents.
Photos.
That’s what they were.
Just pictures.
The first one was of the bakery. Zeyon’s Bakery. The warm brick walls, the brown wooden sign hanging proudly above the door with the faint lettering that read: "Zeyon’s."
The next photo made her heart clench.
Zeyon was inside the café, arranging tables with Leo. There was sunlight streaming through the glass windows, and Zeyon was smiling. He looked... peaceful. Leo was laughing about something. Their heads were tilted toward each other, and they looked happy. Normal.
Allison kept sliding through the pictures. More of the bakery. The walls painted with soft colors, fairy lights hanging above the bar counter. There were customers. Kids. Families.
Then there was one of Elisse and Jessa sitting by the window. Jessa was holding a huge piece of cake, mid-bite, while Elisse was sipping from a mug that looked comically oversized for her hands.
All of them were together. At night. That picture hit the hardest. They were seated in a circle near the outdoor garden area. Zeyon had his arms crossed, laughing. Jessa was lying on the bench, feet up like she owned the place. Elisse was talking and using her hands dramatically, probably telling a wild story. Leo had his phone out, trying to take a selfie, and they were all laughing.
Allison’s throat tightened.
She should’ve been there.
She should’ve been with them.
But she wasn’t.
Because she left.
She left without saying anything.
She wiped a tear quickly as it slid down her cheek. But then another came. Then another. And soon she gave up trying to hold them back.
“I thought I was doing the right thing,” she whispered into the silence. “I thought if I left, you all would be safe. I thought I was protecting you...”
She hugged the photos to her chest.
But the truth? The truth was cruel.
Zeyon probably hated her.
He probably still remembered the day she promised she wouldn’t leave. That she would stay. That she’d be honest with him.
But she broke that promise.
And now he was out there, maybe still mad, maybe already moved on. Maybe he found peace in running the bakery. Maybe he stopped waiting.
Maybe... he forgot her.
Allison sat in the room for what felt like forever. Holding memories in her hands. Letting the silence be her only friend.
And then slowly she placed the photos back inside the folder and closed it. She pressed her hand on top of it.
She wasn’t ready to go back to them. Not yet.
But one day.
One day, she would.
When the time was right.
When she wasn’t a storm that could destroy the only good things left.
She wiped her tears again, this time slower.
And with a breath that carried every broken thing inside her, she stood up.
Because she had more to fix. More to heal. More truth to bring out into the light.
And she wasn’t done.
Not yet.