She left the building with the evening breeze brushing against her cheeks—free, empty, but somehow full. As she stepped onto the sidewalk, she glanced up at the giant screens mounted on the neighboring building, where her face was now visible, her words scrolling across the bottom in breaking news alerts.
The evening couldn't allow anyone recognize her face, since no one would expect her walking out from the media house alone after dropping such bomb. But thanks to that, she could easily observe people's reaction. The news drew people forming clusters in the street. Others fixed their gaze on the screens mounted in the street watching. She listened in to a discussion as she walked away.
"That journalist girl," a woman beside her murmured to her companion. "Nadia something. The one who just exposed everything. She's fearless, standing up against those powerful people like that."
Another voice, deeper, from somewhere behind her: "They'll come after her, mark my words."
"Not with everyone watching now," someone else responded. "Too many eyes."
Nadia kept her head down, heart hammering in her chest as she moved through the ripples of conversation that surrounded her. Jayson had been right all along—exposing the truth would spark the people. With the public watching, those who had once moved in the dark now had nowhere to hide. They'd be too busy covering their tracks, pointing fingers, and disowning one another to come after her.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket. A message from James: The station's phone lines are jammed. Everyone wants to know more. You've started something big, Nadia. Stay safe.
She smiled faintly to herself. Getting to where she had parked two blocks away , she slid behind the wheel and slipped away out of the city once again. Through the window, she watched as the urban landscape gradually gave way to rolling countryside, the weight of what she'd done settling on her shoulders. Not regret—resolution.
---
By the time she arrived at the cottage, the sky was bright with stars, as if cheering on her for winning despite all odds. Birds chirped softly in distance. The scent of wildflowers hung in the air, carried by the gentle evening breeze.
Nadia paused at the garden gate, taking a moment to steady herself. The last few days had been a whirlwind of danger, determination, and adrenaline. Now, in this moment of relative calm, exhaustion threatened to overwhelm her.
She pushed open the wooden door, her thoughts already racing ahead to quiet conversations with Mr. Stephen and Mirian, discussions about next steps, about Jayson's recovery—
And then she froze.
Jayson was awake.
Propped up in bed that had been moved to the sitting room corner, weak but smiling, his eyes met hers the moment she entered. The bruises on his face had faded to yellowing patches, but his eyes—those eyes that had haunted her dreams—were bright and alert.
Her bag slipped from her shoulder, hitting the floor with a soft thud.
"Jayson?" her voice cracked, hardly daring to believe.
He nodded, softly. "Nadia..." His voice was raspy from disuse, but it was the most beautiful sound she'd ever heard.
She ran to him, dropping to her knees beside the bed, hugging him gently—careful of his injuries. "You came back," she whispered against his shoulder, tears streaming freely now. "I thought I'd lost you."
His hand, still weak but steady, came up to stroke her hair. "You didn't," he murmured. "You saved me, Nadia."
She pulled back just enough to see his face, to trace the lines of it with trembling fingers. "How long have you been awake? Why didn't anyone call me?"
"Just a few hours," he said, catching her hand in his. "I made them promise not to. I wanted to see your face when you walked in, not through a phone screen."
Mirian appeared in the doorway, wiping her hands on her apron. "He's been asking about you every five minutes. 'When will Nadia be back?' 'Has she called?' Like a child waiting for Christmas morning." She smiled fondly.
"You should have told me," Nadia said, but there was no reproach in her voice.
"And miss this moment?" Mirian shook her head. "Never."
Mr. Stephen appeared behind Mirian, his weathered face creased in a smile. "Besides, someone needed to finish watching your broadcast without interruption. We've been glued to the news since."
Jayson's eyes searched Nadia's face. "You did it, didn't you? You got the truth out there."
"We did it," she corrected him. "I followed the trail you started." She reached into her bag and pulled out a small flash drive. "This held everything—all your research, all the evidence. I just... finished what you began."
His fingers closed around the flash drive, then around her hand. "No. You did so much more than that."
And there, holding onto each other, she finally said it.
"I love you, Jayson. I never stopped, not even when I thought you left me."
His eyes glistened. "I love you too," he breathed. "Always. Even when I walked away, planning never to look back."
She laughed through her tears. "Well, that plan failed spectacularly."
"Thank God it did," he whispered.
Mr. Stephen cleared his throat. "Let's give these two a moment, shall we?" he said to Mirian, who nodded knowingly as they retreated to the kitchen.
---
Later that night, after a simple but celebratory dinner where Jayson managed to eat a little soup, the small makeshift family gathered around the TV in the sitting room. Mr. Stephen and Mirian were already watching the national news when the commissioner of police appeared on screen, serious-faced in his full uniform.
"Turn it up," Nadia said quickly, perching on the arm of Jayson's chair. He reached for her hand instinctively.
"We have seen the broadcast aired on Nexus TV," the commissioner said, cameras flashing around him, "and we are treating the matter with utmost priority. The allegations presented are grave and demand thorough investigation."
He paused, adjusting his collar before continuing. "I want to make this absolutely clear: No one is above the law in this country. An independent panel comprising respected judges and civil society members will investigate the alleged abuses of office, assault, and conspiracy."
Another pause. "All those involved will be held accountable, regardless of position or connections."
A reporter's voice called out: "Commissioner, what about the safety of the journalist who broke this story?"
The commissioner's expression hardened. "Any threat or harm to Ms. Phillips or any other journalist doing their job will be treated as an attack not just on an individual, but on our democracy itself."
Nadia's hands trembled as Jayson squeezed them.
"Did you hear that?" Mirian whispered. "They're actually doing something!"
Mr. Stephen let out a proud chuckle, his eyes glistening suspiciously. "You've done something big, Nadia. Bigger than any of us could imagine."
Mirian added with a smile, passing Nadia a cup of tea, "You lit a fire that can't be put out now."
"What about Senator Donovan?" Jayson asked, his voice still weak but urgent. "Have they mentioned him?"
As if in response, the broadcast cut to another scene: the senator being escorted from his office by plainclothes officers, his face tight with fury as he shielded himself from cameras.
"Breaking news," the anchor announced. "Senator Donovan Lewis has been brought in for questioning following today's explosive revelations. Sources close to the investigation suggest multiple high-ranking officials may be implicated as the probe widens."
"It's really happening," Nadia breathed.
Jayson turned to her, his eyes bright with something that looked like pride. "You did more than save me. You saved the truth."
"But at what cost?" she wondered aloud. "There will be backlash. People who still support them, people who benefit from the corruption."
"Of course there will," Mr. Stephen said, lowering himself into his armchair with a sigh. "Change never comes easy. But it comes."
"And when it does," Mirian added, "it starts with someone brave enough to stand up first." She reached over to squeeze Nadia's shoulder.
Jayson winced slightly as he adjusted his position, and Nadia immediately fussed over him, rearranging his pillows.
"I'm fine," he insisted, catching her hand. "Better than fine." He looked around at the three faces watching him with such care. "I have everything I need right here."
The broadcast continued in the background, names and accusations flying, promises of investigations and accountability, but in that moment, Nadia barely heard it. The war wasn't fully over—but they had won the first battle. And for the first time in a long time, it felt like the tide was finally on their side.
Outside, the stars in the darkening sky, stood as a witness to the small moment of peace in the cottage below—a fragile peace, perhaps, but real nonetheless.
"Tomorrow will bring new challenges," Jayson murmured, as if reading her thoughts.
Nadia leaned her head against his shoulder. "Then we'll face them together."
"Together," he agreed, and in that word was a promise, a future.
The following day, investigative officers arrived at Eliora to take Jayson's statement, directed there by Nadia. His injuries prevented him from traveling to the station himself.
From his sick bed, Jayson recounted how he had discovered Detective Cedric's murder and reported it to Chief Walter, who had instructed him to close the case. Despite the direct order, Jayson couldn't abandon the investigation—his loyalty to his friendship with Cedric ran too deep. As he continued digging, he uncovered a much larger conspiracy orchestrated by Senator Donovan Lewis. When Jayson attempted to expose the truth, someone had shoved him from behind into oncoming traffic.
Nadia provided the officers with security footage from the accident scene, which clearly captured Tyrone's face as the assailant. After reviewing the evidence, the officers promised to pursue the lead and requested their continued cooperation as the investigation progressed.