Theresa observed as Takumi meticulously arranged the items he had procured for her—technically through the assistance of his household staff, who had been tasked with purchasing essentials such as clothing and undergarments on her behalf.
  Before Takumi could place the newly purchased items into the bag—also one of his thoughtful acquisitions—a maid entered the room and seamlessly took over the task, her movements efficient and unassuming. Takumi stepped aside, allowing her to continue, though his presence lingered, offering a subtle reassurance.
  Theresa sat nearby, her fingers pressing anxiously against the call card hidden in her pocket. She longed to share the truth with Takumi, to tell him everything she had discovered. Yet, each time the words formed in her mind, they dissolved under the weight of uncertainty.
  How could she articulate the inexplicable? How could she explain that Kaiser and Kim were far more than they appeared to be? The fear of disbelief, or worse, the implications of her revelations, kept her silent. 
  Takumi stood in silence so does Theresa; his sharp gaze fixed on the maid as she completed her task, collecting the last of Theresa's belongings and carrying the bags out of the room. For a moment, Takumi's expression was unreadable, his calm composure giving nothing away. Then, as if sensing Theresa's eyes on him, he turned towards her.
  “Shall we?” he asked, a small, disarming smile lighting up his face as he gestured toward the door. 
  Theresa’s thoughts churned as they walked outside together, her gaze drifting toward Takumi every few steps. On the surface, he seemed calm, his hands casually tucked into his pockets, but she couldn’t help but wonder about the storm of thoughts that might be concealed behind his composed exterior. 
  She wanted so badly to ask him about last night—to hear directly from him what had unfolded in her absence. Her heart wrestled with doubt and hope, a quiet determination simmering beneath her unease. She wanted to believe in their friendship, to prove Kim wrong by showing that trust and faith still existed among them.
  “They value me,” she whispered under her breath, her voice barely audible over the faint hum of the hospital hallway. Her gaze lingered on Takumi’s profile, tracing the sharp angles of his jaw, the quiet confidence in his stride. “Otherwise, he wouldn’t be here.”
  He must have noticed her glances because he turned slightly, catching her in the act. But instead of calling her out, Takumi simply smiled, his expression warm, a subtle gesture that caused another flutter in her chest. She quickly averted her eyes, cursing herself for the sudden warmth rising to her cheeks.
  The silence stretched between them as they reached the hospital’s parking lot. Takumi’s butler stood waiting by the car, his posture impeccable, while the maid who had packed her belongings earlier now stood beside him, her hands folded neatly. Without a word, the butler opened the door, gesturing for Theresa to step inside.
  She hesitated for a moment, glancing back at Takumi, who had stopped just short of the car. His stance was relaxed, yet there was a sense of finality in the way he stood. She climbed into the vehicle, expecting him to follow, but when she turned to look at him again, he remained outside.
  “They will escort you back to your place,” Takumi said gently, his voice steady but distant. There was something about his tone that struck her—a mixture of care and detachment that left her unsure of how to respond. Before she could protest or even thank him, the door closed softly, and the car began to move.
  Theresa watched as Takumi grew smaller in the rearview mirror, her chest tightening with a mix of emotions she couldn’t quite name. There was gratitude, yes, but also an ache, a yearning for answers she hadn’t mustered the courage to seek. 
  She clenched the call card in her pocket, a silent vow forming in her mind: Next time, I’ll ask him. I’ll find the words. For now, she let the car carry her away, leaving Takumi behind in the fading distance.
  From a distance, Takumi’s lips pressed into a firm line as the car carrying Theresa disappeared from view. His gaze lingered on the empty road, his expression betraying a tangle of emotions he couldn’t quite suppress.
  A knot formed in his throat as he swallowed hard, struggling to reconcile his thoughts. Why had Theresa chosen to conceal her encounter with Kim and Kaiser? The question gnawed at him, refusing to release its grip.
  The truth was undeniable—he had seen them. He had heard their exchange. But what unsettled him most was the eerie familiarity in some of Kim’s words. They struck a chord too close to home, stirring the guilt he had long tried to bury.
  Yes, he had intended to let Theresa go once her role was fulfilled. Not out of cruelty, but as a means to shield her from the storm that loomed ever closer. Yet, the thought of discarding her as though she were meaningless cut deeper than he cared to admit. He had no intention of allowing her to become collateral damage in his desperate mission.
  The plan had always been to sever ties with those who no longer served a purpose in his intricate game of survival. It was a cold, calculated strategy meant to minimize casualties should his attempt to open the portal fail.
  But the weight of his failures bore down heavily on him, each regret a relentless specter haunting his every step. Agatha’s memory loomed largest of all—a reminder of the promise he had broken, the life he had failed to protect. He had vowed to free Samantha from her curse, yet he had lost Agatha in the process and now both sisters, his oath shattered like fragile glass.
  Now, the only solace he could imagine lay in completing the task he had begun. If he could bring Samantha back—truly and fully—perhaps it would quiet the storm within him, if only for a moment. At least then, he thought, he might find a shred of redemption in a sea of unrelenting guilt.
  Takumi exhaled deeply, his gaze lingering on the hospital’s sterile exterior. His mind raced, narrowing down the possibilities of who might have betrayed the trust embedded within Theresa’s vision. Only one name came to mind, someone capable of uncovering and leaking the delicate truths woven into the new circle he had meticulously formed.
  Just as he resolved to re-enter the building, his phone buzzed in his pocket. Pulling it out, he glanced at the screen. Tomoya’s name flashed across the display. Without hesitation, he answered.
  “Nii-san!” Tomoya’s voice burst through the receiver, tinged with urgency, immediately setting Takumi on edge.
  “Did something happen?” Takumi’s voice sharpened, instinctively fearing the worst—had something happened to Samantha in his absence?
  “Shane’s fine,” Tomoya reassured him in a hushed tone, almost as if anticipating the question. “But someone’s here, and they’re asking to speak to the owner of the house.”
  Takumi’s brow furrowed. “How significant is it? If it’s trivial, handle it yourself.”
  A brief silence followed, heavy and uneasy. Then, Tomoya’s voice returned, more hesitant. “B-But I can’t talk to Zach.”
  Takumi’s stomach clenched at the name, his gut twisting into uneasy knots. That name had a way of dredging up old wounds, leaving a bitter taste in its wake. He couldn’t afford for Zach to wander his home, especially now—not with Samantha within its walls.
  Suppressing his rising frustration, Takumi exhaled slowly, the sound almost resigned. “Fine,” he said finally, his voice clipped. “Tell him to wait and never take your eyes away from them."