“You should leave,” Amara said quietly, her voice trembling with restraint.

“I won’t go without you, Amara,” Max replied, desperation lacing every word.

“I’ve had enough of your deceit. Just go.” Her tone wavered, trying to convince both him — and herself.

“That’s not a lie, Amara. They’re alive,” he said, his voice breaking.

“Should I trust your words or the evidence before me?” she shot back, eyes blazing. “I have a witness, you know. So please—leave me.”

“Who is your witness? Len?” Max’s lips curled into a bitter smile. “Ah, my love, you place your faith in your ex-fiancé? How tragically naïve. He’s been weaving lies around you for years — I see that now. He tricked you into coming back to him.” He laughed, but the sound was hollow, almost broken.

“I refuse to play this childish game any longer. I’m tired — so very tired — of running from you,” Amara confessed, her voice heavy with exhaustion.

“Then don’t run,” he said softly, a flicker of desperate hope lighting in his chest.

Max stepped closer, panic etched across his face as he cupped Amara’s cheeks, pulling her gently toward him. His eyes searched hers — wild, pleading — but all he saw reflected back was fear she could no longer hide.

“They didn’t die, Amara. They’re alive,” he whispered, his voice trembling.

“Let me go,” she pleaded, twisting in his grasp.

“Listen to me! Our children are alive! They didn’t die!” he cried, his voice breaking under the weight of his conviction.

“Let me go!!!” Amara screamed, striking at his chest, her voice raw with terror. She fought him, tears streaming down her face.

“Do you truly think I can believe you?” she shouted. “You can’t deceive me, Max! I held them — I felt their cold bodies in my arms! I saw them with my own eyes. Don’t lie to me! I witnessed their lifeless forms with my own hands! I know they died because of me. I accept that. You have every right to hate me. So please — I beg you — either leave me… or end this. Kill me!”

Her voice broke, collapsing into sobs.

Max pulled her close, his arms trembling as his grip tightened almost to pain. Amara struggled, but the weight of her exhaustion — the years of guilt, grief, and fear — drained her strength.

“Let me go,” she whispered hoarsely. “You have no right to hold me like this.”

“Listen to me,” Max said softly, his voice shaking. “They are not dead.”

“Stop it!” Amara cried. “You think I can believe you? I’ve seen the truth! Len confirmed their deaths. Your mother and sister showed me!” Her voice rose, filled with anguish and betrayal.

“I’m sorry,” Maxwell whispered, his voice barely audible.

“Let me go!” Amara shouted again, her tears streaking her cheeks.