Read The Lost Ruby :: Season 2 Chapter 2

The room was freezing.

Not the kind of cold that fades after a while, this one clung to the skin, crawled into the bones, and refused to let go. The cell was nothing but concrete and silence, cold as ice, cruel as the thoughts racing through Zynex’s mind. A single metal bed stood in the corner, its frame rusted, its thin mattress barely deserving the name.

Zynex sat on it, his shoulders hunched, his breath shaky. Every movement sent a chill through his body.

Why did I follow Atonix?

The question repeated itself again and again, louder than the silence around him.

Three days.

Three days, and not a single person had come to listen. No visitors. No explanations. No mercy.

Not even Blanki.

The door creaked open.

A police officer stepped in, his boots echoing sharply against the floor. Without a word, he gestured for Zynex to stand. His legs felt weak, but he obeyed. They led him down a narrow hallway and sat him on a wooden chair that groaned under his weight, as if it might collapse at any moment.

Then Zynex saw him.

Dr. Romil.

His chest tightened. This wasn’t just any man, this was someone he trusted, someone who had watched over him, treated him, believed in him. Zynex’s hands trembled as he looked up, exhaustion and fear written all over his face.

“I can assure you it isn’t me,” Zynex pleaded, his voice cracking. “I didn’t do it.”

Dr. Romil sighed softly, his tone calm but heavy.

“Look,” he said, stepping closer, “I was your doctor for so long. I know you. Just say if it was you, and we’ll figure out a way to solve this.”

The words hit hard.

Zynex swallowed. His eyes dropped to the floor. Once again, hiding the truth he said it, the pressure was too much. He broke.

That night replayed itself in his mind.

He told him everything.

How he and Dothu had been chatting on the streets, the quiet broken by desperate voices. Two men lying on the ground, pleading for help. How they’d rushed over without thinking. How Zynex had knelt down to check on one of them.

And how pain exploded through his side.

Zynex lifted his shirt with shaking hands, tears spilling freely now.

“When I bent down,” he cried, “he stabbed me… right here.”

His voice collapsed into sobs.

“Take a look at his Rale,” Zynex added weakly. “He has a knife.”

The room went quiet.

Dr. Romil’s expression changed, doubt turning into realization, then regret. After a long pause, he finally spoke.

“I’ll tell your father,” he promised. “I’ll explain everything.”

Then he left.

Zynex was taken back to his cell.

The cold welcomed him like an old enemy.

He curled up on the metal bed, shivering uncontrollably, his body weak, his heart even weaker. Sleep came in fragments, interrupted by coughing, pain, and loneliness.

The next day, the door opened again.

This time, Dr. Romil wasn’t alone.

Behind him stood Blanki.

Zynex barely had time to react before his father rushed forward, falling to his knees beside the bed. His strong frame shook as tears streamed down his face.

“Why…” Blanki sobbed. “My anger… it made my son suffer in this cold cell for three days.”

Zynex stirred awake, his hands and legs trembling violently from the cold. His lips quivered as he forced a weak smile.

“Nn… no pr… problem,” he whispered. “It was just a mm… misunderstanding.”

That smile broke something in the room.

Dr. Romil immediately stepped in, panic rising.

“He’s sick,” he said urgently. “He needs medical care now.”

They rushed Zynex out and into Romil’s office. Tests were done. Silence followed.

Then the truth.

Pneumonia.

The cold had invaded his lungs. His breathing was shallow, painful, uneven.

Weeks passed.

Weeks of nonstop medication. Of pain. Of sleepless nights and fragile breaths. Of staring at ceilings and wondering why everything hurt so much.