The Next Morning

  The knock on Sana’s door resounded through the hushed bedroom. She didn’t move, her body curled tightly under the blanket, her face buried in the pillow.

  The knock came again, more insistent this time.

  “What do you want?” she demanded, her tone carrying enough weight to convey her irritation.

  “It’s me,” Kasra’s voice drifted through the door, light but with an edge of concern. “I have something to show you.”

  Sana hesitated, her fingers gripping the edge of the blanket. She didn’t want to see anyone, not after the storm of emotions that had consumed her since her decision to end things with Seven. But something made her reach for the remote control on the nightstand. With a soft click, the door slid open.

  Kasra stepped inside, his usual confident stride faltering as he took in the sight of his sister. Her eyes were swollen like walnuts, her face pale and gaunt. The weight she had gained under Seven’s care now seemingly vanished. She looked fragile, a shadow of the vibrant woman she had been just days ago. His heart ached for her.

  “You look like a malnourished kid from an impoverished country,” he said in quiet disapproval, sitting beside her on the bed. “Everything Sev worked so hard for over the past two months, it’s like you undid it all in just 36 hours.”

  He placed his laptop on a pillow and opened it. “I know you just want to shut yourself away from the world right now, but you need to see this.”

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  Sana didn’t respond, her gaze fixed on the picturesque view of the Potomac across from her. But when Kasra flipped open the laptop, she looked at the screen: it was the surveillance footage from the hospital.

  “This is from the night of the Christmas party,” Kasra explained. “It shows everything from the moment Seven entered the treatment room to when he left. Watch it. Natasha left moments after you did. He didn’t betray you, Sana.”

  Sana’s breath hitched as the footage began to play. She watched silently, her eyes narrowing as Seven entered the room, his movements unsteady. Natasha and another doctor appeared shortly after Seven entered, but as Kasra had said, she left soon after Sana had stormed out.

  As the video continued to play, a petite figure with a pixie haircut entered, dressed in a cream-colored sweater and black tapered pants. The person stayed for nearly 45 minutes.

  Sana’s jaw clenched. “Who is that?” she asked, her voice barely audible.

  “That’s Etana,” Kasra replied. “A medical colleague from out of town. Coincidentally, she was there for a follow-up on her companion’s case. At Seven’s request, she gave him an acupuncture treatment.”

  Sana’s gut twisted as she recalled Seven’s fascination with Etana: her mysterious medical knowledge despite her youthful appearance and amnesia. A pang of jealousy shot through her, but she quickly pushed it down. She didn’t doubt Seven’s integrity, yet the thought of Etana being there for so long stirred uneasily in her chest.

  The footage continued, showing the doctor who had earlier spoken to Kasra, Sana, and Lara entering the room. Natasha never reappeared. The evidence was unmistakable: Seven hadn’t chosen Natasha over her. He hadn’t betrayed her.

  Sana’s hands trembled as she closed the laptop, a mix of relief, guilt, and confusion swirling inside her.

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