The car moved steadily through the quiet morning streets, its engine humming softly beneath the silence that had settled between its passengers. The city was only beginning to awaken, and the roads reflected that hesitant rhythm. Shops were raising their shutters one by one, buses carried only a handful of commuters, and the pale sunlight spread across the buildings with the softness that belonged only to early morning. Through the windows, familiar streets slipped past in blurred reflections, disappearing almost as quickly as they appeared. Inside the vehicle, however, time seemed unwilling to move at all. Yokina sat silently in the back seat with Herik resting weakly beside her, one arm wrapped protectively around him as though afraid he might disappear the moment she loosened her hold. Her eyes drifted repeatedly toward his face, searching for the smallest sign that he was recovering, while Juson remained focused on the road ahead, both hands resting firmly on the steering wheel. The silence between them did not feel uncomfortable. It felt cautious, as though both of them understood that whatever words came next would only deepen the uneasiness already growing between them.
After several minutes of driving, Juson finally broke the silence. His voice remained steady, but not because he was calm. Every sentence had already been arranged inside his mind before he spoke it aloud. He explained that he had reached Hakiten's house too late, that by the time he arrived the neighbourhood had already fallen into confusion, and that frightened neighbours were abandoning their homes without stopping to explain what had happened. Much of what he said carried enough truth to sound convincing. The panic had been real. The damaged house had been real. The ambulance and police vehicles had been real. Yet hidden carefully between those fragments of truth lay everything he deliberately refused to reveal. He said nothing about the blood on the wall, the strange blue grains scattered throughout the house, the moving sand, the broken table, the missing cube, or the nightmare from which he had awakened upon Hakiten's floor. Every omission blended quietly into the ordinary details until even he almost believed the story he was telling.
Yokina listened without interrupting, her attention fixed entirely upon his words while absentmindedly brushing Herik's hair away from his forehead. She accepted each explanation quietly, yet Juson could sense that she was weighing every sentence against her own instincts. When he finally finished speaking, silence returned for only a brief moment before she asked the single question he had already expected from the beginning.
"Did you find anything?"
Juson's eyes never left the road. He answered immediately, allowing neither hesitation nor emotion to betray him.
"The house was too dark."
It was a lie.
"I couldn't see clearly."
Another lie.
"And it got too late, so I stayed in the car."
That final sentence sounded ordinary enough to pass without suspicion. It rested naturally beside the earlier truths, completing the picture he wanted her to believe. Over the years, Juson had learned that the easiest way to hide the truth was never to invent an entirely false story. Real lies survived longest when they were wrapped carefully inside familiar details. Calm voices, ordinary explanations, and believable circumstances persuaded people far more effectively than elaborate deception ever could. Most people trusted what sounded reasonable. Yokina was no different. She studied him for another quiet moment before simply nodding, choosing not to press him further, though the uncertainty lingering inside her expression refused to disappear completely.
Several more minutes passed before the hospital finally emerged ahead of them, its pale exterior standing quietly beneath the brightening morning sky. The familiar entrance came into view, and Juson guided the car smoothly toward the drop-off area before bringing it to a gentle stop. Even before the engine settled into silence, Yokina had already opened the rear door. She stepped out quickly with Herik gathered carefully in her arms, balancing the small shoulder bag against her side as she hurried toward the hospital entrance without wasting a single moment. Her entire attention belonged to the child now. She never once looked back toward the car. Within seconds, both of them disappeared beyond the sliding glass doors, swallowed once again by the white corridors and quiet urgency waiting inside.
Juson remained where he was.
His hands stayed resting upon the steering wheel long after the hospital entrance had emptied from view. The engine continued idling quietly beneath him while he stared through the windshield toward the open road stretching beyond the parking area. He should have followed them inside. He knew that. Herik was still weak, Yokina needed him, and there were undoubtedly questions waiting to be answered. Yet something inside him refused to let the previous night end. The feeling that had followed him ever since leaving Hakiten's house still lingered stubbornly beneath every rational thought, whispering that something remained unfinished. His eyes slowly lifted toward the empty street ahead, unfocused yet searching. The sensation had no clear shape and no logical explanation, only an unshakable certainty that somewhere beyond the city another piece of the truth remained waiting for him.
Without allowing himself time to reconsider, Juson tightened his grip around the steering wheel and pressed firmly against the accelerator. The car responded immediately, rolling away from the hospital entrance before merging smoothly back onto the main road. This time he did not turn toward the city centre or the route leading home. Instead, he followed the quieter roads stretching farther outward, leaving behind the busy intersections and familiar neighbourhoods until the buildings gradually began giving way to wider open spaces. The hospital disappeared behind him just as easily as the city itself, shrinking into the distance while the road ahead curved steadily toward the riverside. He did not know exactly what he expected to find there. There was no evidence, no message, no logical reason guiding him. Only that persistent feeling continued repeating itself somewhere deep inside his mind, quietly but relentlessly, refusing to be ignored.
He might have something there.