When Rania Safi's life crumbles in a mere six months, Officer Johan Li is left with unrequited emotions and unanswered questions. On the other end of the same city, Roman Sinclair and Elham Khan find themselves on the two side of the same coin.
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Her departure left a deafening silence as if she had taken all the peace with her. He stood frozen, the stifling stillness broken only by his erratic heartbeat. The walls of his home seemed to close in, caging him in his living room while memories began to consume him.
The memories of that Christmas rose from the dead in that moment. That Christmas, the dinner table sat silent, the air thick and motionless above it. Outside, the merciless snow swallowed their arguments and joys, muffling even their grief. The empty chair haunted the three of them as untouched food grew cold and gifts remained wrapped beneath the tree. For the life of him, he couldn't recall a single word that passed between them that evening, yet they sat there all night as if waiting for her to reappear with that terrible singing voice.
Then, suddenly, the grief morphed into guilt, draping itself over his shoulders like an unwelcome, haunting shadow in the dead of night.
Guilt, a statue he had chipped away at for years, suddenly reappeared. This time, it was holding a boulder. The weight of it pressed heavily on his ribs, nearly piercing his stitched-together heart. His hand found its way to the scars on his abdomen, tracing them with a faded touch. They weren't just etched into his skin but imprinted in the hollow spaces between his heartbeats. September came at him like a blade — not a sharp one, but a rusted, jagged edge. A blade relentless in its pursuit of carving both pain and guilt out of him, a pursuit that threatened to unravel him completely.
He stood in a no man's land, each side engulfed in flames and bordered by jagged barbed wire. His wounds were a mix of both: on one side of the world, two collapsing buildings burned, while on the other side was a barren land paying the price for sins it had never committed. Guilt and grief danced in a grotesque showdown. On one side, Aurora's voice vanished into a void of cruel snowfall, silence reigning in their home; on the other side, Mahsa Gul had paid the price for his survival. Every breath felt stolen, as though he had taken it from her to keep himself alive.
His life was filled with ghosts, ghosts that always sought answers. Answers for unpaid debts, unheard prayers, and atonement in a world with no space for forgiveness. When he signed the dotted line on the Marine contract, he believed it was medicine for his gaping wound. He thought the contract would serve as an unmarked grave where he could bury his anger, hate, and bleeding heart. That he could spill his pain into the dirt and bury it alongside his fallen brothers. But he didn't know then that the people he was trained to punish were never the culprits behind his sister's death. He would carry that wound for the rest of his life... a life of love unearned and a life unworn.
Coco pawed at the screen door, his nose pressed into the mesh, sensing the storm swirling inside Roman. With a heavy heart, Roman took a treat from the drawer and stepped into the backyard. The stillness of the September night bit at him, crisp air clinging to the hill his home was perched on. He settled onto the cold steps, the chill seeping into his spine, a stark contrast to the warmth of the husky pressed against him. Coco nestled against his knee, a comforting warmth that anchored him to the moment.
