"Yes... we did stay the night at Felzein’s," Rosa said at last, her tone calm, yet edged with quiet resolve.
The effect was immediate. Dewi, Rasya, and Wina exchanged glances, their expressions taut with disbelief, the unspoken implications hanging heavy in the air.
"You stayed the night?" Rasya echoed, her eyes narrowing, the question light on the surface but weighted beneath. "And what, pray tell, did you do while you were there?"
"Nothing happened!" Rosa replied, rather too quickly. Her voice sharp, defensive, as though already bracing for judgement.
Dewi stepped forward, her gaze piercing, lips drawn in a thin line, "Are you quite certain? Don’t lie to us, Rosa. Not about something like this."
Rosa inhaled deeply, fighting to compose herself, "I’m telling the truth. Why would I lie about such a thing?"
At last, Melati’s voice broke the tension. Soft, almost hesitant, yet clear, "There was a reason... I wasn’t in a good place. Things with Welly. It all became too much."
"We were out walking, just to get some air, to find a moment’s peace. And then, quite suddenly, Felzein found us on the road. He told us to get in. He drove us straight to the police station."
A hush fell over them. The weight of her words silenced even the most sceptical.
Dewi’s shoulders slackened slightly, her stance no longer quite so guarded. Rasya cast a look at Wina, who appeared lost in quiet thought.
"I suppose... if that’s how it was," Dewi murmured at last, exhaling slowly, her voice tempered now by reason.
Rasya and Wina nodded faintly, though behind their eyes, the questions remained.
Unspoken, unresolved, lingering like mist after rain.
In the hush of a dimly lit room, cloaked in stillness, Felzein and Cherlyn sat immersed in a conversation of grave importance, one that revolved entirely around Ryu.
Cherlyn had just finished speaking. Her voice, though scarcely louder than a whisper, carried the weight of unflinching conviction.
“I believe… it may be the only way, Doctor,” she murmured. “You must go to him. To Ryu. And you must go soon.”
Felzein did not respond at once. He remained motionless, save for the distant flicker in his gaze.
Then, with a measured breath, he turned to Cherlyn, meeting her eyes with steady determination.
A single nod followed, resolute and free of doubt.
“Very well. I shall go to Osaka,” he said, his voice strong, unyielding as though the decision had already settled itself within the marrow of his bones.
Silence returned, brief but weighted. Felzein’s eyes drifted, unfocused, towards the far wall, as if searching through time itself.
In a voice low and edged with unspoken fears, he asked, “Does the Overseer know… that I’m still alive?”
Cherlyn inclined her head slowly. Her expression was composed, though her eyes gleamed with the memory.
“He does. At first, he dismissed it as fiction. But I… I took a photograph of you without your noticing. I sent it to him directly.”
She drew in a breath, deep and deliberate, “He was overjoyed. He wept.”
Felzein lowered his gaze to the desk, the faintest shadow passing over his face, “When I received the Nobel Prize… did the organisation suspect nothing?”
A soft shake of the head, “No. They only knew you as Professor Vaf.”
A small, relieved smile touched Cherlyn’s lips, “Fortunately, you never uttered your true name. That small omission protected more than you realise.”
Felzein’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly, “But my face… they must have recognised it?”
A glint of amusement flickered in Cherlyn’s expression, “Did Professor Vaf ever show his face to the world? Wasn’t it your trademark, the black mask? The one you wore unfailingly, at every occasion, in every place?”
A faint smile ghosted across Felzein’s lips. Wry, but not without warmth. He nodded.
“So be it. When do we depart for Osaka?”
Cherlyn said nothing. Instead, she pulled out her phone, her fingers gliding across the screen with practiced ease. A brief silence fell.
At last, she looked up, her tone composed, her words clear.
“Tonight.”
Felzein turned to Cherlyn, a faint crease lining his brow, “Tonight? Are you certain?” he asked, his voice laced with hesitation and mild astonishment.
Cherlyn met his gaze without flinching, her nod decisive, “Is there any reason we shouldn’t?” she countered, her tone quiet, but laced with challenge.
Felzein fell silent, then exhaled slowly. His eyes, once unsure, now brimmed with determination.
“No… none at all,” he said, voice firm with resolve.
Cherlyn allowed herself the smallest of smiles, “Good. With only a few hours left, we must prepare. There can be no missteps.”
Felzein gave a measured nod. The facts were clear, and nothing further needed to be said.
Yet something, unexpected, uninvited, rose unbidden from within him, a question spoken not with logic, but with feeling.
“How are your parents?” he asked, voice low.
Cherlyn froze. Her eyes widened, the question striking something raw. Slowly, her gaze softened, glistening with memory.
“They’re… they’re well. But…” her voice wavered, “…they still ask after you, Doctor. Often.”
Felzein lowered his eyes, his voice weighted with regret, “I’m sorry, Lyn…”
The name Lyn hovered between them like the ghost of a time they had never quite left behind.
Cherlyn drew a long, shaky breath, fighting back a tide of emotion, “It’s all in the past now,” she whispered.
But Felzein’s eyes remained fixed on hers, “And… do you still feel the same?”
She didn’t speak at first. But when she did, the truth came clear, unyielding.
“Yes,” she said. “Even now.”
He was still for a long moment, then stepped closer, his voice softer now, yet charged with intention.
“Before we leave for Osaka… I want to see them.”
Cherlyn stiffened, “Doctor… why? Why now?” she whispered.
“I can’t explain it completely,” he replied. “But something tells me, you never truly told them I’d died.”
She stared at him, breath caught, “How did you know?”
He held her gaze, unwavering, “Because you just said they still ask about me.”
A hush fell, heavy and poignant. Felzein’s voice, when it came again, was quiet, almost reverent.
“Which means… perhaps they still believe I’ll return. To keep my promise. To marry you.”
Cherlyn’s sobs broke through the stillness, tears cascading unchecked down her cheeks.
“Please, Doctor… don’t speak of it again… don’t stir wounds that have yet to mend,” she whispered, her voice fragile and fractured.
Felzein remained silent, his gaze heavy with regret as he regarded her.
Yet beneath the sorrow lay an unwavering resolve to seek redemption for what once was.
Slowly, he closed the distance between them and enfolded her in a tender embrace.
Startled, Cherlyn’s body stiffened. She tried to push him away, but her resistance faltered.
Her frame trembled with the weight of her anguish. That embrace long yearned for was at last within her grasp.
Her tears fell freely, unrestrained.
“I… still love you,” Felzein murmured, his voice thick with the ache of unspoken pain and enduring affection.
Cherlyn’s sobs grew louder as she lightly struck his back, “Why? Why do this to me? Are you not with Rosa and Melati now?”
“Yes… they are good women,” Felzein said gently. “But they do not know the true me, not as you do. They have never shared the paths we walked.”
Clutching at his shirt, her voice shook, “Felzein… please… do not leave me again, I beg.”
Felzein shook his head firmly, tightening his hold, “I swear it… I shall never leave you again.”
Then, softly, he kissed her brow, a gesture from a past time, now rekindled.
That kiss unlocked memories long sealed beneath layers of grief, stirring echoes they believed lost forever.
“Are you happy?” Felzein asked, his voice low but rich with meaning.
Through her tears, Cherlyn nodded, “More than words can say,” she whispered.
“I have not called you Felzein for years. Since the explosion… I could not bear the truth. So I called you Vradistza,” she said, eyes glistening.
“Call me what you will,” Felzein replied, holding her close, defying the world to part them again.
And Cherlyn surrendered to the warmth of the embrace she had denied herself for so long.
“We must prepare now,” she whispered, though her heart lingered still.
Felzein nodded slowly, his eyes fixed upon hers, “Yes… our next course lies with Ryu,” he said, reluctantly releasing her, as though leaving behind a fragment of his soul.