"Rhett," Neva whispers.
Rhett hums in response—a query.
He's been watching her—watching as her thoughts drift, her eyes boring a silent hole through the white wall across the room.
Elk and Agent Knight left thirty-five minutes ago. Ace is back in his room.
All that remains in the quiet living room are the two of them, surrounded by deafening silence and unspoken sentiment.
The rain has ceased.
Sunlight peeks through the pure white clouds. There is light in the room.
Birds and crickets chirrup, trees rustle gently in the warm air.
The glazed balcony window stands open, and a faint breeze drifts in, stirring Neva's now-dry, luscious strands.
They veil the sides of her face, fluttering like petals or leaves.
She has gone astray in her deep musings.
And he, in her—in her kind soul, her beauty, the soft rhythm of her breathing, her quiet virtue.
In the glittering cocoa pools of her eyes, her perfectly pointed nose, her rosy cheeks, her rosy lips, her fair, honey–like glowing skin, her—
"I want you to tell me everything."
Neva's voice pulls him from his reverie.
Rhett raises his brows. "You—want me to?" he asks, unsure if he's heard her right.
Neva glances at him.
Their familiar warm eyes meet, threaded with a golden string woven by the sacred hands of the Spirit Himself.
In that moment, Neva and Rhett have found heaven on Earth.
The purity of love and strength—no longer enslaved by the persecuting world.
They have broken the shackles of trial.
A red rose, under the sun, blooms from the once-naked stem beside budding leaves—and they shall tend the soil and grow a garden more beautiful than before.
Neva's tears fall. "Please… can I have faith in you?"
Rhett smiles softly.
He draws closer, and Neva lets him enfold her. Her head rests on his chest, finding tranquility in the steady rhythm of his heart.
"Yes," Rhett whispers, his chin resting atop her head.
"I want you to know—nothing has altered between us. Even if it had, we've only patterned deeper into each other.
Our souls were always one. Now, they're only stronger."
Neva thaws into his warmth. She closes her eyes, letting the tears trickle down her cheeks—warm streaks of emotion soaking through his sweater, into his skin, making her feelings his own.
"It was love at first sight," Rhett begins with a soft smile.
"We met in 2019. I still remember it vividly. It was a warm October evening. You were walking along the pavement, maple leaves falling around you. And I—I was mesmerized by you." His eyes are dreamy, the sudden delight of the memory making his heart skip a beat.
"And?" Neva whispers.
"You were just in your own world—you hadn't seen me. But I saw you… and your disheveled shoelaces. So I callled out to you.
And right then, when our eyes met… nothing was mine anymore. I was all yours."
Neva chuckles softly through her tears, her face still pressed to his chest, which vibrates gently with each low rumble of his words.
"And?" she murmurs.
Rhett draws her closer—one arm around the small of her back, the other hand stroking slowly through her hair, his long fingers brushing the wavy strands with gentle care. Neva's fist tightens against his sweater.
The grounded warmth of him, the steady thrum of his heart, the swirling euphoria in her chest—almost too much for her to hold.
"After I fixed your shoelaces," Rhett continues with a quiet smile, "I followed you to the bakery.
You got annoyed because I kept bothering you—even when you reached your apartment.
You were about to call the cops on me… but then you saw me enter the apartment next door—because I lived there."
"Really?" Neva lifts her head, eyes searching his.
He only smiles and gently guides her back against his chest, cradling her close to his heart.
"Yes, really. But I was away a lot because of my job.
We barely saw each other. Still, every time we did, I tried to win you over.
At one point, I honestly thought you hated me.
Then one day, I came home injured—got into a fight with a gang who were assaulting a woman.
One of them caught me off guard and stabbed me. It wasn't deadly, really.
Then you found me. Treated me. Offered to care for me while I healed… and gave me a chance to court you. Soon we grew closer and got into a relationship." Rhett pauses.
Hesitation rings in his ears—along with the name of the one who ratified their ruin.
"Why did you stop? It's okay. I want you to tell me everything," Neva murmurs, adjusting herself more comfortably against his chest.
Rhett sighs but continues. "You told me you'd had an accident when you were ten. You lost your memory.
Your parents were gone, and you had been living with your aunt and uncle—until you moved to Erriador for college."
"On Christmas Eve, I proposed to you. You said yes."
Rhett swallows. "The next day… Raka came to our apartment. I wasn't home when he abducted you."
Neva's eyes widen, her heart catching in her throat. But she says nothing.
She believes every word that leaves his lips.
"With the help of an agent, I got you back. But after that, we had no choice—but to leave. And when we were on the cruise… something terrible happened."
"What?" she asks, her voice barely a cold breeze across dried grasses.
"They weren't Raka's people. The ones who ambushed the cruise were armed—and far more experienced.
Hundreds of lives were lost."
Then afraid, he carefully says, "They demanded you, too."
"They were killed because of me." An unnamed black canvas of misery shrouds Neva. The agony—it's all too familiar.
"No, Angel. You were never at fault," Rhett says, frowning gently.
"Please… go on."
He breathes out, slow and heavy.
"After that, we traveled to a countryside village called Ziriri."
A small smile tugs at his lips. "We got married there and made a home in a cottage with a lovely garden we grew together.
You made friends so easily… and not long after, we found out you were pregnant with Rhean."
His gaze softens. "In the same year we married—in September—Rhean was born. Our time in Ziriri had been the most precious.
Neva is haunted by regret and anguish.
Such beautiful, cherished memories—yet she couldn't hold onto them, can't even reach out to touch them.
Their marriage… Rhean's birth…
They feel like distant dreams she was never truly part of.
She feels the weight of all the lonely days her son had spent without her—and the aching need to harmonize.
"We had to move again one night. Raka had found us again." Rhett rests his cheek gently against the crown of her head.
"Then we shifted to another country. We lived in peace… for six quiet, pleasant months."
A tear falls.
Then another—soft and warm—dripping onto her hair.
Neva feels the quickening of his heartbeat beneath her. So, she places a soothing hand on his chest.
"I was away with Rhean in town," he says, voice tightening. "And you were home."
"You called me… and told me Raka got to our home."
Rhett's jaw trembles.
"I'm sorry, Angel.
I tried, but I couldn't stop them."
He lets out a broken whimper, clutching her impossibly tighter—afraid she might slip away, crumble, or wither in his arms.
Neva feels her heart clench at the weight of their shared agony.
An air of hollowness suffocates her—a feeling like an empty, barren shell.
A vision flashes: a large, ghastly shadow peeling her skin, nails dragging through flesh, her soul reduced to ashes.
She can't breathe.
Rhett feels her stiffen.
He gently begins to rub her back in slow, steady circles.
"When I got back home," he says, voice rough with pain, "Raka had erased every trace of what he'd done.
There was no sign of a break-in. Nothing around the neighborhood.
But only our home was a mess."
His heart is clawed and shredded.
"And I knew… knew he had violated you."
She falls apart.
A deafening buzz floods her ears—the ringing aftermath of unbearable truth.
Hot tears stream down her cheeks.
Rhett cradles her gently, caressing her head and pressing a kiss to her crown.
Silently, he prays—to take away her grief, to turn back time.
To make everything right.
"I made a deal with Elk," he says quietly. "I'd work for him, and in return, he'd help find you.
But even after years… nothing worked. The case was closed."
He swallows.
"So I quit my job and took it upon myself to search for you.
I even considered leaving Rhean in a boarding hostel… but Elk reopened the case and offered to help again.
Rhean stayed with him."
Rhett's voice breaks, soft and fragile.
"I'm sorry it took me so long."
Rhett holds her in silence for an unknown, securing span of time.
He offers her that space—time to absorb it all, to take in as much or as little as she needs. If she chooses to refuse and shred some parts, tear away pieces of the story, he accepts that—as long as Neva's back home.
"You've been hurt so much," Neva murmurs.
She pulls away to look at him—and sees his tears still quietly falling.
Then, slowly, she leans in, wrapping her arms around his neck.
Rhett encircles her fragile frame with his own rugged arms, drawing her in.
His face buries into the crook of her neck, trembling slightly.
Look at her.
Even after everything, how can she find it in her to worry about him?
When he—he can't even imagine the horror she's survived.
"You're my cure," he whispers against her skin.
"When I'm with you… I'm never in pain." Rhett murmurs, and a choked sob slips out out Neva's lips.