Knock. Knock.

“Teresa, I told you I don’t want breakfast. Please don’t disturb me,” Luna said from inside the room.

She sat on the edge of the bed, biting her nails, her thoughts spiralling—fragmented, restless.

“It’s me, Tia.”

The deep, calm voice was unmistakable.

Luna hurried to the door and flung it open.

“Why didn’t you come for breakfast?” Malcolm asked, concern etched across his face. “I waited as long as I could.”

“I’m sorry,” Luna said softly. “I’m not feeling very well, so I thought I’d skip it.”

“What happened?” His brows furrowed instantly. “Should I call Robert?”

“No—no, you don’t need to,” she rushed. “It’s nothing. Just fatigue.”

She forced a small smile. “I’ll be fine if I rest a little longer.”

“No.” His tone was firm.

Before she could protest, Malcolm guided her back to the bed, pressing his hands gently but decisively on her shoulders, making her sit.

“I’m calling Robert. Right now.”

He dialled the number, not giving her another chance to argue, and with his free hand gestured for Teresa to bring breakfast to the room.

“It’s done,” he said after ending the call. “He’ll be here in thirty minutes.”

He picked up the sandwich from the tray. “Meanwhile, you’re going to eat this. It’s delicious.”

He brought it toward her mouth.

“I’m not a child,” Luna said, smiling despite herself. “I can eat on my own.”

“Nope.” He shook his head. “This is my job now. Stay still and take a bite.”

Her mind was already elsewhere—backtracking, replaying moments, trying to understand what had gone wrong. Too exhausted to resist, Luna surrendered and let Malcolm have his way.

The night before—at the party

“Alex…”

The whisper barely left her lips before it was swallowed by thunderous applause, the crowd cheering for the perfect couple on display.

“Did you say something?” Malcolm asked, leaning closer.

“No… nothing,” Luna replied.

The colour drained from her face as her eyes searched the crowd desperately. Camera flashes burst like lightning, blurring her vision.

He was gone.

Wasn’t he here just a moment ago?

Or did I imagine it?

“You don’t look well,” Malcolm said, studying her face.

“I’m exhausted,” Luna murmured.

“You must have overexerted yourself. Let’s go inside.”

“No,” she said quickly. “It’s okay. I’ll go with Rebecca.”

She signalled to her friend. “At least one of us should stay.”

“Take care of her,” Malcolm instructed Rebecca, his voice low. “If anything happens, call me immediately.”

His gaze followed Luna as she left the hall—until the doors closed and she disappeared from sight.

Outside, Luna broke into a run.

She kicked off her heels mid-stride, thrusting them into Rebecca’s hands so she could move faster.

“Where are you going, Miss T?” Rebecca called after her. “Wait for me!”

Luna searched every corner, every shadow, every passing face—

But there was no sign of Alex.

When Rebecca finally caught up, breathless and worried, she pleaded with Luna to return to the room.

That night, Luna didn’t sleep.

She lay awake, staring at the ceiling, her mind replaying the moment over and over—

Where did Alex go?

————————————————

Ask, and it will be given to you.
Seek, and you will find.
Knock, and it shall be opened to you.

My prayer has been answered.
The door has been opened.
And the one I was seeking stood right in front of me—his hand extended for a handshake.
“Lexton D’Silva, at your service,” he said smoothly. “I’ll be your consultant on behalf of Dr. Stacey Pao.”

Malcolm cleared his throat. “He’s Dr. Pao’s junior. He was supposed to arrive last week, but had some unfinished business. He came in last night—it was late, so I didn’t get a chance to introduce him to you.”

“Tiara Coelho,” Luna replied, placing her hand in his. “Pleasure to meet you, Doctor.”

Her eyes never left him.
She studied every movement, every shift in expression. Questions crowded her mind, piling one over another. The room felt unreal—like a fragile illusion that could shatter at any second.

“Physically, she’s perfectly fine,” Dr. Robert announced. “My work here is done.”

He turned to Dr. D’Silva. “I officially hand over her case to you. Please take good care of her.”

“Of course,” Dr. D’Silva replied calmly. “That’s what I’m here for.”

Then, looking directly at Luna, he added, “I’ll see you this afternoon for our first session.”

“I’ll be there,” she said—her gaze still searching, probing, recognizing something buried deep within him.

During the Session

“I’m sorry, Mr. Mendes,” Dr. D’Silva said firmly, stopping Malcolm at the door. “You can’t join us.”

Malcolm stiffened.

“Consultations are most effective when the patient is alone with their doctor,” the consultant continued. “Only then can they truly open up.”

Reluctantly, Malcolm nodded.
He didn’t like it—but he complied.

As he stepped away, a strange sense of hostility simmered within him toward Dr. D’Silva. He couldn’t explain it. He just felt it.

Luna sat opposite the doctor, hands clasped tightly in her lap.

“Make yourself comfortable,” he said gently.

Then the questions began—one after another.

“What is your full name?”

“Luna Coelho.”

“You introduced yourself earlier as Tiara.”

“Yes. That’s what everyone calls me. But I am Luna Coelho.”

“What is your date of birth?”

“28th August, 199—”
She paused. “No… not six. Four.”

Her breath hitched.
“1994.”

“I see,” the doctor said quietly.

“What did you have for breakfast this morning?”

“Sandwiches.” She frowned.
“What kind of nonsense question is that? I don’t have trouble recalling the present.”

“Alright. Then tell me your parents’ names.”

“David and Martha.”

“Their full names?”

“They were David and Martha Coelho.”
Her voice sharpened. “Will you stop now?”

“Can you describe the event that led to your injury?”

“No.”
Her answer was instant. “I don’t remember anything from the past ten years.”

“Then what is the last thing you do remember?”

Luna’s breath trembled.

“I remember that night.”

Her voice cracked.

“I remember those monsters tearing me apart.

I remember my parents—bloody, cold, lifeless.”

Her eyes filled, locking onto his.

“I remember your eyes—screaming in pain for me.”

“I remember… I remember—”

Her words dissolved into sobs.

“Are you done asking now?” she whispered through tears.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I truly am. I thought you didn’t remember.”

Her voice rose, raw and broken.

“Is that why you ran away from the party? Is that why you didn’t come to me?”

Her fists clenched. “You knew I saw you. How could you not come to me?”

He swallowed hard.

“I’m sorry, Luna,” he said. “I thought you had forgotten me. Then I saw you—happy, smiling, leaning against someone else’s chest.”

His voice wavered.

“I didn’t want to destroy the happiness you found after everything you went through.”

He stepped closer.

“But I couldn’t leave without knowing for sure.”

A bitter smile touched his lips.

“And now I know.”

He looked at her with eyes full of both agony and relief.

“You remember.”

“It hurts… and it heals me at the same time.”

“Because I’m not the only one left carrying that horrible night anymore.”