Nova was hunched over, eyes locked on the man beneath him, his breath shallow with focus.

  A sudden scream shattered the silence, jolting him from his trance.

  Seeing the man not moving Nova gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. With a slow breath, he released the knife — its handle slick with blood. A soft clink could be heard as the knife fell to the floor.

  Lifting his gaze, his face streaked with crimson, he smiled.

  “Mom!” he called, voice light, as though nothing had happened.

  Caroline froze.

  She had woken in the dead of night to this — her young son standing over a lifeless man, blood dripping from his chin, his smile wide and unfazed. Maybe the man had been a thief… maybe worse. It didn’t matter.

  That smile — sweet, innocent, untouched by what he had just done — crushed her.

  The world she thought she knew tilted.

  She stood frozen, minutes passing like lifetimes. Her mind refused to accept what her eyes had seen. Deep inside, she screamed — pleading, begging — that this was just a dream. A nightmare. Something her mind had conjured in the dark, something that would vanish the moment she woke.

  But the longer she waited, the clearer it became: she was already awake. Painfully, undeniably awake.

  “Mom, are you okay?”

  Nova’s voice shattered the illusion, dragging her back into this waking hell.

  Heart pounding, she lurched toward the nightstand, snatching the emergency device resting there. Her fingers fumbled, trembling, but she managed to send the distress signal. Just one press. Just enough.

  A breath escaped her lips — shallow, shaken — as the knowledge that help was on its way settled over her like a thin, fraying blanket. It wasn’t comfort. But it was something.

  Nova watched her, puzzled. The way she moved, the way she looked at him — it was just like the people in movies when they saw a monster for the first time.

  He took a step closer to the bed, lips parting to speak—

  “St-Stay there!” Caroline shouted, voice cracking.

  He froze, a sharp ache blooming in his chest. His smile, already long gone, gave way to a quiet, wounded expression.

  “Why?” he asked softly, as if the answer might fix something.

  “Just stay there!”

  She snapped again, panic sharpening her words like knives.

  She backed away, circling to the far edge of the bed, trying to put as much space between them as possible. Her breathing was shallow, her hands trembling.

  Nova didn’t move. He just stood there, watching her face shift through a storm of emotions — fear, confusion, disgust, heartbreak. Expressions he had never seen on her before.

  And worst of all, they were meant for him.

  Several minutes passed in dead silence. Even the blood pooling from the man’s body had grown still, forming a dark, quiet puddle beneath Nova’s feet. He hadn’t moved.

  His eyes remained fixed on his mother.

  His mind swirled with questions — dozens, maybe hundreds — but not a single answer surfaced. One truth echoed clearly in the chaos: he had protected her. That much he was certain of.

  And yet… the way she looked at him — like he was the one who had broken in, the one who came to rob them… maybe even to kill.

  Then, a sudden crash shattered the stillness.

  Nova’s head snapped toward the hallway. Flashlights cut through the darkness. A team of armed officers moved cautiously through the entrance, weapons raised, beams dancing across the walls.

  He counted four. The one in front — likely the leader — wore no helmet, his face exposed and alert. The other three followed close behind, armored, faceless, and ready for anything.

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  Before the officers reached the bedroom, Nova instinctively glanced at his mother. He saw her — a smile creeping across her face, a look of relief, as if she were being saved.

  But…

  Nova tilted his head, confusion tightening his chest. What was that expression?

  There was no danger, was there?

  The next moment, the lead officer stepped into the room. His eyes immediately fixed on the man sprawled on the floor, the blood now dark and still, pooling around him like a grim halo.

  The officer knelt beside the body, taking off the glove of his right hand he pressed his fingers on the man’s neck, checking for any sign of life. But there was nothing.

  Nova’s gaze shifted toward the door just as the lead officer turned to his team, shaking his head. With a voice that cut through the tension, firm and authoritative, he addressed the room, his eyes briefly landing on Nova before shifting to Caroline.

  “What happened here?”

  “H-He did it!” Caroline’s voice cracked, sharp and panicked.

  Nova’s eyes snapped to her. She was pointing directly at him, her finger trembling, but her gaze wasn’t even on him. It was directed somewhere above, probably locked onto the officer, as if trying to avoid acknowledging him altogether.

  Behind him, a voice rang out — calm, firm.

  “Leave no details behind.”

  Time seemed to fracture in Nova’s mind as his attention stayed fixed on his mother. She began to recount everything: the moment she woke, the confusion, the fear. Her voice shook as she told the story, each word more frantic than the last. By the end, she was pleading, begging the officer to take her away from “him” — as though Nova was no longer her son, but a stranger.

  Nova’s face twisted with every word his mother spoke, each shift in his expression betraying the storm inside him. She had treated him strangely before, but now… now she was painting him as something monstrous. Something evil. The very thing he and Jack had once fantasized about defeating in their plays. And now… that role was his.

  His chest tightened.

  "..."

  The weight of her words pressed down on him until a woman's voice suddenly cut through the haze. But the words didn't register — they were distant, like a faint echo from another world.

  He turned slowly toward the sound, his face contorted with confusion, his voice cracked and strained, as though he was holding something back.

  “Did… you say something?”

  The woman knelt before him, her movements deliberate, steady. She reached up, pulling off her helmet, bringing herself to his level. Her eyes were calm, almost too calm, as she pulled out a tissue and began gently wiping the blood from his face.

  "Is what your mother saying true?" Her voice was soft. "Did you really kill that man?"

  The stark contrast between his mother’s reaction and the stranger’s calm demeanor made Nova feel even more lost.

  Was his mother worse than a stranger?

  The thought surfaced, but he quickly pushed it away, unable to bear it. Instead, he lowered his gaze, nodding faintly, as though he could erase the weight of the moment with a simple gesture.

  Half-expecting it, the woman didn’t react strongly — but a flicker of surprise still crossed her face.

  "Why did you do it?" she asked.

  She had already surmised that the man was likely an intruder, perhaps a robber, or worse. But she needed to understand why this child — this boy — had taken matters into his own hands.

  Nova’s gaze remained fixed on the floor, his voice barely a whisper. "To protect my mom."

  A soft gasp escaped the woman’s lips. She had just listened to the mother’s account, where it sounded as though the police were rescuing her from her own son — a son she had painted as a monster. But hearing Nova's words now, the woman couldn’t help but feel a deep pang of discomfort, even guilt, for what the mother had said.

  In the woman’s mind, this was a line no child should ever cross — something no one, not even an adult, would normally do in their lifetime. Yet, here was this boy, his actions driven by a desperation to protect the only person he had. He had done something unthinkable, but he did it for her. For his mother.

  And yet, there was no sign of gratitude, no acknowledgment from her. No care. No concern.

  The silence between them hung heavy.

  Then, without warning, she reached out, her hand ruffling his hair gently — an action of comfort that felt foreign yet necessary. Her voice broke the quiet, this time softening, carrying warmth that hadn’t been there before.

  “Wait here.”

  Nova lifted his head and watched as the woman walked over to the man he’d labelled as the leader. They spoke in hushed tones, their words too soft for him to hear, but their eyes constantly flicked between him and his mother.

  He stood there, still as a statue, observing the silent exchange. The voices of the other two officers murmured in the background, but Nova couldn’t tell if they were speaking to each other or on the device. He didn’t have the mental clarity to focus on their words.

  Minutes passed before the woman returned. She smiled, her face warm as she knelt to his level once again.

  “Want to come visit the police station?” she asked gently.

  “Mhm.” Nova made a soft sound, a faint nod of his head, his lips tugging upward just a little — the shadow of a smile on his face, as if something in him was starting to feel... a little less lost.

  The woman extended her hand, her smile gentle and genuine. “My name is Evelyn. What’s yours?”

  Slowly, Nova lifted his hand, almost hesitantly, and grasped hers. He met her hazel eyes, their depth pulling him in for just a moment before he murmured, “I’m Nova.”

  “Nice to meet you, Nova,” Evelyn replied, her voice soft. She stood, and holding his hand, she guided him toward the door.

  Nova walked beside her without once looking back. Even as the front door was slowly closing behind them, his eyes stayed forward—though now and then, he stole a glance at the stranger he’d only just met today.

  The door clicked shut with a soft, final sound.

  Nova’s eyes snapped wide open, the sound jolting him back to the present. But he didn’t leap to his feet. He remained sprawled in the same position he had been lying in, his head still resting on his arms. He scoffed softly.

  “Heh. Caroline.”

  For a moment, his face was blank, unreadable.

  Then, in a near whisper, he murmured "Evelyn..."

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