Even The Devil Cries

She vanished without warning.
Five years later, she's standing on his doorstep - no suitcase, no excuses, just tired eyes and a silence that says too much.

Amira knows how to survive.
She's mastered the art of disappearing, of burying pain beneath pride. But this time, the past didn't stay buried.
Not when the only man she ever ran from is the only one who still leaves the door unlocked.

Malicai isn't the same.
Harder now. Sharper. But the way he looks at her still hits like it used to - like she's a wound he never stopped bleeding from.
And she feels it too... in every word they don't say, every glance that lingers too long, every ghost that sits quietly at the table between them.

She left.
He stayed.
And everything in between is aching to be said.

This isn't a love story.
It's a reckoning.