Simon and Ndeshi arrived at the Organisation's gates, a storm of whispers following their every step. Faces twisted in shock. Questions hung heavy in the air.
Evan's eyes darted desperately, searching the crowd. "Where's Vicky? My sister—where is she?"
The worry in his voice cracked the silence, drawing sympathetic glances.
Simon opened his mouth, but Ndeshi cut him off, her voice steady, authoritative.
"She's fine," she said, eyes locked on Evan's. "She asked us to deliver a message: she'll see you all tomorrow."
"Where is she?" Evan's voice grew sharp, edged with panic.
"She's handling something important," Ndeshi answered, "and don't worry — she has AID."
A collective intake of breath. Natasha's eyes widened. "She has AID? Wait—Vicky is AID?"
Ndeshi nodded. "She got the ace. Just like always."
"Vicky…got AID?" Evan repeated, disbelief mixing with relief.
Ruben frowned. "Why is Simon so quiet?"
"And you're only just speaking now?" Ndeshi snapped, not missing a beat. "Aren't you glad to see us, Mr. Ruben?"
"Nah… something feels off," Ruben muttered.
"Where's Karen?" Natasha asked, her gaze sharp.
"She's with Paige," Simon said quietly, moving to Evan's side. He wrapped the younger man in an embrace—deep, raw, and full of unspoken emotion.
The room fell into a confused hush.
"She remembers everything," Simon whispered in Evan's ear.
Fear flashed in Evan's eyes.
Elsewhere, Karen stumbled onto a dim road and flagged down a passing car, desperate to get somewhere safe.
Nathan walked alone along a gravel path, the night crisp and unforgiving. A chill crawled up his spine. He glanced behind — nothing but shadows.
His injured hand throbbed, a dull, constant ache. Still, he pressed forward.
Suddenly, a figure darted from the darkness. Reflexively, Nathan grabbed the person, pinning them to the ground, fists clenched—ready to strike.
Then he saw her.
"Vicky? What… what are you doing here?" His voice wavered, confusion flooding in.
"You hurt me," Vicky said quietly, pain shadowing her words.
"I'm sorry," Nathan replied softly. "So, you're serious about calling me."
"What are you doing here?"
"Some goons attacked me on my way home," Nathan explained, shaking his head. "Now I'm lost."
Vicky sagged down onto the gravel. "I'm lost too."
Nathan crouched beside her. "Now that we've found each other, we'll find the way out. Together."
"I can't walk," she whispered.
"I'll carry you."
Vicky blinked up at him, suspicion flickering in her eyes. "Wait… why are you being nice?"
"What do you mean?" Nathan asked, genuinely puzzled.
"I was right. I'm dreaming. All this tonight—none of it's real."
She tried to stand but stumbled, clutching her side in agony.
"What happened tonight?" Nathan's voice softened.
"Nothing," Vicky said, voice trembling. "I wish it was all a dream. Come on… let's find the road."
Nathan noticed the uneven gait, the stiff movements. "Why are you walking like that? What happened to you?"
"And why are you wearing a suit?"
"Why, why, why? What's with you?" Vicky snapped, pain lancing through her voice. She screamed.
Nathan didn't hesitate. He lifted her into his arms, steady and firm.
"Put me down," she demanded, but her voice was weak.
"It's dark, and it's about to rain," Nathan said calmly. "You're in pain. You can't walk."
"You don't need to worry about that. I'm fine," Vicky said, but Nathan said nothing, his silence speaking volumes.