The house was hushed, the ticking of a distant clock the only sound as midnight stretched thin across the rooms. Ray had returned, shoulders tense, eyes sharp as he glanced at Ren.
“It’s late,” Ray said firmly, voice laced with that protective edge reserved only for his sister. “You should stay here tonight.”
Ren didn’t argue. A slight nod was all he gave before retreating quietly, the sound of his boots muted against the polished floor. He slipped into the guest room, leaving the door just slightly ajar, as if leaving a thread of safety for her in the hall.
Rose lay in her bed, staring at the ceiling, legs stretched under the blanket, but sleep refused her. Her body was exhausted, but her mind… her mind wouldn’t settle. Shadows played across her walls, curling with the memories she tried desperately to shove away.
Suddenly a voice kept ringing in her ears sharp, haunting. It shouldn’t have ended like this…
Her chest tightened as the memory of her best friend’s laughter collided with the memory of that fatal accident. The unfairness of it all.
She rolled onto her side, hugging the pillow close, biting her lip to hold back the tremor in her jaw. Every tick of the clock sounded like a drumbeat echoing the injustice she felt, each second marking the time her friend had been taken from her.
Her hands clenched the sheets, the frustration and grief coiling tighter inside her. She whispered into the dark, voice barely audible. “Why…why this voice keeps ringing.” she put her plams over her ears, trying to stop the voice but it doesn't.
The words floated into the night, unanswered, and her chest ached with helplessness. Her body was weary, but her mind wouldn’t relent, cycling through anger, sorrow, and longing for justice that might never come.
She pressed the pillow to her face, eyes brimming with tears she refused to let fall. The unfairness of life, the cruelty of fate… it made her feel hollow, twisted, restless. Sleep remained a stranger, slipping further from her grasp with every thought, every echo of laughter stolen, she still remember that day being sunny.
The courtroom was too cold.
Not the kind of cold that came from air-conditioning-but the sterile, heavy cold of silence, of steel, of justice dressed in robes that didn't know what justice meant anymore.
Twelve years old Rose sat stiffly on the bench, her schoolbag still tucked at her feet like she might leave halfway through. But she wouldn't. She had to see this. Had to hear it.
Fah would've wanted her to.
Beside her, Fah's mother clutched a crumpled tissue in both hands, wringing it like she could strangle grief into silence. Her father sat motionless, staring dead ahead at the man behind the defendant's table.
The man who killed their daughter.
Alan Royce.
Rose's fingernails dug into her palms. Her stomach turned every time he smiled.
And he did smile.
As if he were only here for a parking ticket.
"All rise," the bailiff called.
Chairs scraped. People stood. Rose followed, her knees weak, vision tunneling. The judge walked in, robes billowing like shadows down the aisle. He looked older than she expected.
Cold eyes. Heavy hands.
He sat. Everyone followed.
"Be seated."
The prosecutor rose first, a tall man in a navy suit that didn't quite hide the fury in his voice. He didn't look like the kind of man who cried-but today, even he looked like he might.
YOU ARE READING
PERFECT (F4 THAILAND)
Fanfiction"Something on my face, or are you just admiring my good looks?" "Neither, I was just zoned out and your ugly face just happened to be in my line of sight." She replied
