Kathleen sat motionless beside Samantha’s still, unconscious form, her gaze fixed upon the woman’s face. Every detail—the faint rise and fall of her chest, the soft curve of her features—betrayed nothing of the truth she had just learned.
The physicality of the woman in front of her was as real as it had ever been, yet something felt irrevocably wrong. She could feel it in the air, in the way her skin prickled as her fingers brushed against Samantha’s.
Kathleen found herself unable to shake the words Takumi and Tomoya had spoken earlier. Each hour that passed since their revelation only deepened the truth she had been unwilling to accept.
The once-familiar woman before her, whose soul had been bound to the realms of both time and circumstance, now lay before her as nothing more than an empty shell. Takumi’s careful explanation, Tomoya’s anxious tone, all of it had reverberated in her mind, carving away at the stubborn disbelief that had initially taken root.
Despite all the evidence to the contrary, Kathleen still clung to the fleeting hope that perhaps she had been mistaken. The reality that Samantha had returned without her essence was something she could barely allow herself to comprehend.
How could it be? How could the world bring her false hopes? How could the soul that she desperately sought to bring back had already slipped beyond her reach?
Her hand hovered over Samantha’s, trembling slightly, as though touching her might confirm the irrevocable truth she had been avoiding. And yet, every time her skin met the cold, unyielding surface of Samantha’s, it only served to underscore the empty space that had replaced the warmth of life.
"Was I truly too late?" The question, whispered almost inaudibly, escaped her lips, but she already knew the answer.
Tears flowed freely down Kathleen’s cheeks, her sobs breaking the stillness of the room as she collapsed, her face buried in her hands. The weight of everything—the unanswered questions, the overwhelming grief, and the crushing sense of loss—felt like it might swallow her whole. She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt this utterly lost.
"W-Why does it have to be like this, Shane?" Her voice cracked with each word, her sobs raw and frantic. "Have y-you truly left me this time? How can you just hover somewhere I can no longer reach you?"
The question echoed in her mind, a desperate plea that she knew would never be answered. Every inch of her body ached with the weight of what she had hoped to undo, and now, here she was, clinging to a memory of someone who was no longer there—if she ever truly was.
It was at that moment, when the room felt suffocating with her anguish, that Tomoya entered. He held his phone in his hand, his face etched with concern but his posture betraying an urgency that immediately shifted Kathleen's attention.
"Kath! Have you not been checking your phone?" His voice, sharp and tinged with panic, pulled her from her grief-stricken haze.
Kathleen lifted her head, her face streaked with tears, and Tomoya, though clearly surprised by the depth of her distress, wasted no time in delivering what he knew.
"N-No, why?" she whispered, still dazed by the torrent of emotions that had overtaken her.
"The hospital’s been trying to get a hold of you since last night," Tomoya continued, his voice growing more urgent. "Christian’s awake."
Kathleen's heart skipped a beat. Christian. She had completely forgotten about him, consumed by everything that had transpired. Her hand instinctively reached for her pocket, trembling as she pulled out her phone, eyes widening in horror at the several missed calls that flooded the screen.
Right. She had forgotten to check. Forgotten to answer. Forgotten everything in the wake of her turmoil.
"What the hell, Kath!" She cursed herself aloud, a sharp pang of guilt twisting in her chest. How could she have been so careless? How could she have let herself become so lost in this moment that she had neglected the person who still needed her?
"P-Please, look for her for me," Kathleen pleaded, her voice shaky as she rushed to her feet. She barely heard Tomoya offering her a ride, too consumed by the urgency to get to Christian. Her focus was entirely on him, drowning out everything else.
She didn’t even notice Takumi, standing in the hallway, as she hurried past him without a glance. Her mind was fixed solely on the hospital, on the desperate need to reach Christian—nothing else mattered in that moment. The world around her faded as she sprinted toward the door, leaving everything else behind.
Kathleen’s determined rush was abruptly halted when she swung the double door open, only to come face-to-face with a familiar, yet unwelcome, figure. Her heart skipped a beat at the sight of the woman standing in front of her. Behind her, a new face lingered, but Kathleen instinctively recognized that they were working in tandem. The situation was becoming more complicated by the second.
“What a coincidence,” the woman remarked casually, though her words felt more like a challenge. Kathleen, however, dismissed the remark with a sharp shrug.
"Step aside," she snapped, the words laced with urgency. The woman tilted her head slightly, showing a subtle gesture of dominance, but hesitated as a more familiar presence emerged behind Kathleen.
“Go on, Kath,” Tomoya’s voice rang out, cutting through the tension. Without a moment’s hesitation, Kathleen surged forward, brushing past the two figures, her focus solely on her goal.
Tomoya’s gaze lingered on her retreating form before shifting back to the woman before her. He studied her coolly, his expression unreadable.
“What brings you here, Dryzza?” His tone was mirroring the same edge of challenge she had given Kathleen earlier.
Dryzza didn’t break eye contact. Instead, a grin spread across her face, as if she found some hidden amusement in the exchange. “And you’re here, too,” she remarked, as if the fact of his presence was both inevitable and unsurprising.
Tomoya glanced around, almost theatrically, as if to confirm his own presence. “As you can see, yes. Sweet of you to notice.”
Dryzza snorted in response, her patience thinning. “Let’s cut the bullshit, Tomoya. I know what happened last night. Now, if you’d be so cooperative, you’ll hand over Dr. Andersen.”
The words hit Tomoya like a slap. His mind raced in disbelief—How the hell does she know? He could almost feel his pulse quicken, the air growing heavy with the weight of his stunned silence.
Tomoya swiftly wiped the surprise from his expression, his face adopting a neutral, calculated mask before Dryzza could even begin to read him. But in truth, he knew he was already too late.
“Hmmm? You seem surprised. I must be right, then?” Dryzza’s tone was sharp, almost gleeful in her confidence.
Tomoya’s lips twitched into a smirk as he scratched the edge of his eyebrow. “Who wouldn’t be surprised?” His voice carried a mocking lilt, as if to downplay the gravity of the situation. “I guess you heard what you just said.” He raised a finger for emphasis. “What do you mean, hand over Dr. Andersen? Samantha Shane Andersen, is what you mean, right”
Dryzza’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of irritation crossing her features.
Tomoya pressed on, his tone growing more sardonic. “But let’s say Dr. Andersen was here... Do you have a search warrant, perhaps?” His voice dripped with feigned curiosity, pushing her to reveal her hand.
The tightening of Dryzza’s lips was all the answer Tomoya needed, confirming the lack of any legal grounds for her demands. He couldn’t help but chuckle softly, his amusement clear.
“Dryzza,” Sai finally spoke behind her. “we better get going.”
“Ohh,” Tomoya said, as if struck by a sudden realization. “By the sound of that, I believe Zach didn’t have any idea about this?” Tomoya feigned shock, pressing a hand to his mouth in an exaggerated surprise. “Oh my gosh! This could be insubordination,” he giggled, delighting in the tension he was creating.
After a few seconds of intense silence, Dryzza finally made the decision to step back, her frustration simmering beneath the surface. She gave a sharp nod and turned away, signaling her reluctant retreat.
“I-I’m so sorry,” Sai’s voice broke through the tension, his tone apologetic as he bowed deeply in an effort to make amends. “I really tried to stop her.” He gestured toward Dryzza’s retreating figure. “She just woke up after suddenly collapsing last night during the earthquakes and turmoil. I really hope you understand. She's not feeling well yet, I think.”
“Earthquakes?” Tomoya echoed, his brow furrowing in confusion.
“Yeah, massive ones. A 7.8 magnitude hit last night. Didn’t you see the news? It practically tore through the city,” Sai said, as if recounting a minor event. His hands moved animatedly as he spoke. “Miraculously, no one got hurt. It felt like the earth itself was trembling, and the city just followed suit, but the people didn't.” He continued, as if trying to explain to a child.
“When she woke up, she went completely berserk, saying you guys were responsible and came straight here.”
Tomoya blinked, taking in the information before looking away, his mind racing. When he looked back at Sai, his expression remained innocent, though a little incredulous.
“We don’t have superpowers, officer,” he said, feigning ignorance.
Sai chuckled softly, his eyes gleaming with reluctant understanding. “Yeah, well, after our encounter with the Takahashi manor, I’m starting to believe her. You can’t blame me for that, right?”
Tomoya raised an eyebrow but smiled, shaking his head. “I won’t, and I can’t, but I can assure you, we didn’t cause any of this… somehow.”
“That’s what I wanted to confirm,” Sai said, his smile widening. He offered another bow—deeper this time—before turning to catch up with Dryzza.
Tomoya closed the door with a soft click and leaned against it, his breath coming in short, anxious bursts. The moment the door was fully shut, he felt a sense of relief washed over him, but it was fleeting. His knees nearly buckled as his mind processed the gravity of the conversation.
“What the hell was that?! How did she know?” he muttered to himself, his hands coming to his mouth as he bit at his nails in panic. The unanswered questions swirled around his head, gnawing at him.