The taxi ride from Liora's office to the hospital passed in quiet hums and glances. Reyan gazed out the window while Liora stole looks at his reflection in the glass. The confrontation with her friends still hung over them. Reyan's lips were slightly parted, like he wanted to say something but didn't know how to phrase it.
"I'm sorry," he finally murmured, not turning to her. "Because of me, you had to argue with your friends."
Liora blinked, surprised. Then she smiled softly. "That? Please. That's how real friends are. They're loud and nosy and always five steps behind when it comes to understanding you—but they love you in their own chaotic way."
Reyan tilted his head, slowly looking at her. "You're not... mad at them?"
She shook her head. "Nope. They were just surprised. And maybe a bit hurt I disappeared. But they'll come around. Don't worry, Reyan. You're not breaking anything."
Something in her tone—gentle but unwavering—made Reyan's chest ache. He didn't know how she could read his thoughts so easily. He didn't even say anything, yet she knew.
And it scared him… in the most comforting way.
The hospital they arrived at was a clean, towering building nestled between quiet lanes and old trees. It had the distinct smell of antiseptic, soap, and something softer—perhaps lavender. It didn't feel cold, as Reyan expected. It felt... prepared. Like it was waiting for him.
They were escorted to the psychiatry wing, where a doctor named Dr. Velin met them. He was a soft-spoken man in his forties with kind eyes and a gentle voice, dressed in a warm beige coat over navy blue.
He glanced at the file Liora had filled in, then at Reyan. "It's good to meet you, Reyan. I understand you've had a recent psychological shock, is that right?"
Reyan gave a small nod.
"No need to rush," Dr. Velin said calmly. "Let's just talk. Nothing scary. Can you tell me what happened that day—anything that stands out?"
Reyan hesitated, his gaze flicking between the doctor and Liora, who was sitting on the far end of the room.
"I fainted. But before that... there were some things. Flashes."
"Flashes?"
"Of my mom. Of a place I didn't remember. A song. And... her. She said something I couldn't hear."
Dr. Velin leaned forward slightly. "How did you feel when you woke up?"
Reyan fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. "Terrified. Like I had been somewhere I wasn't supposed to be. Like I'd touched something forbidden in my mind."
"Did it feel like a memory, or more like a dream?"
Reyan looked down. "A memory that hurt too much to be real."
Liora sucked in a breath. Dr. Velin glanced at her, then back at Reyan. "And how have you been since then? Any panic? Nightmares? Mood shifts?"
"I… I'm confused. But less heavy, I think. Liora's been helping me a lot."
The doctor nodded, scribbling a few notes. "You're dealing with repressed emotional trauma, likely tied to past grief and blocked memories. The fainting could have been triggered by an overload of emotional stimuli—possibly the mention of something meaningful or the environment itself."
Reyan swallowed.
"I recommend weekly therapy for now. We'll go slowly—breathing work, memory exploration, and trauma processing. I'll also prescribe mild anti-anxiety medication to ease the mental fatigue."
He handed Reyan a small leaflet.
"Nothing about you is broken, Reyan," Dr. Velin added gently. "It's just that some parts of you got locked away for survival. Therapy will help you open those doors safely. One at a time."
Reyan nodded. His throat tightened. "Thank you."
Liora stood beside him and offered a faint smile as they left the hospital.
Outside, the wind was cooler now. The trees swayed lazily, as if nodding along to an invisible song. They walked to a nearby café—a quiet place tucked between a florist and a secondhand bookstore.
They took a table near the window. Reyan ordered something warm and sweet—honey-cinnamon tea—and Liora picked a citrusy cold drink with crushed mint and ice.
As their drinks arrived, Liora stirred her straw and broke the silence. "So... how was today?"
Reyan breathed in the tea's scent before answering. "It was... different. But good. I don't regret coming here. Not at all."
He looked at her, expression unreadable but soft. "I've seen so many new things since I came. Your town. Your friends. Your home. Your mom..."
Liora paused mid-sip, surprised.
"She told me stories about my mother I never knew," Reyan said, voice low. "Small things. Like how she always sang lullabies out of tune. Or how she had a habit of dancing in the rain even when she caught colds every time."
Liora leaned forward. "Really?"
He nodded, smiling faintly. "It was the first time in years I didn't feel like I was missing her. It felt like she was just... somewhere nearby. Like if I looked over my shoulder, I'd see her smiling at me."
Liora's eyes softened. She reached across the table, and he—almost without thinking—placed his hand over hers.
His grip wasn't tight, just enough to say I'm here.
"I don't know what's ahead," he murmured. "But... thank you. For pulling me out. For seeing something in me when I didn't."
Their fingers lingered. Liora was about to speak—to confess about the late-night phone call, about the shadow of her father that refused to leave her mind—but something outside the window made her freeze.
Her expression changed completely.
Reyan turned. "What is it?"
Liora's eyes widened, her lips parted in disbelief.
Across the street, a man in a suit was getting into a dark silver car. His face was partially hidden, but it was unmistakable.
Liora stood up suddenly, nearly knocking her drink over.
Her voice cracked as she whispered, "Dad?"