DIMAS'S POV
When I got home, I tried to settle my still-restless heart. The image of Alena's pale face continued to haunt my thoughts—the entire journey home, I couldn't shake the crushing anxiety, as though a part of me had been left behind there, beside her.
That night, exhaustion finally pulled me into sleep, but my rest was far from peaceful. I dreamed—in my dream, I stood in the middle of a vast expanse of snow. The wind howled violently, yet there wasn't a soul in sight. Only a woman dressed like a noble stood with her back to me. For some reason, my heart pounded as if it were about to burst—I knew who she was. It was Alena.
I tried to call out to her, tried to run toward her, but my legs felt unbearably heavy and refused to move forward. Standing before her was a man in a black cloak radiating extraordinary power—a figure brimming with authority. The Devil Prince. Somehow, I knew who he was. It was as though I had known him from a time far more ancient.
The man's voice rang clearly in my ears, as though he were speaking directly to me as well: "The feelings that return are not a weakness... they are the answer."
Then the scene changed. I saw Alena kneeling in the middle of a storm, cradling the motionless body of someone lying in the snow. Tears fell from her eyes, and each drop froze instantly against her cheeks. The pain I felt in the dream was so real—as though I were the one experiencing it, as though her sorrow were my own.
"Alena..." I called softly in the dream.
The Devil Prince turned his head for a moment, as if he had sensed my presence inside Alena's dream. His gaze was sharp, but not malicious—rather, it held recognition, as though he knew who I truly was.
I woke up gasping for breath, cold sweat dampening my forehead. My heart was still pounding hard, as if I had just run an incredible distance. I sat on the edge of the bed, staring through the darkness of the room with blurred vision.
My trembling hands clenched the blanket. Who was I, really? Why could I dream something like this? And why did it feel as though I were hurt too every time she was injured?
Amid my confusion, there was one thing I believed with all my heart. I was certain of my feelings for Alena now. I would protect her with all my strength. I wouldn't let her cry or get hurt again.
ALENA'S POV
The next morning, after the sun rose and the pain in my body had subsided, I walked toward Maya's room. My heart beat erratically—the guilt of having neglected her all this time still weighed heavily on my chest. I knocked softly, and her gentle voice answered from inside:
"Come in, Mom."
When the door opened, I froze. Maya sat on the edge of her bed, already dressed neatly in her school uniform. Her face, usually pale, looked brighter now, and the dullness that had once clouded her eyes had begun to fade, replaced by a renewed sparkle.
"Maya..." I called softly as I stepped closer.
She looked up, then smiled—a sincere smile I hadn't seen in a long time. "Mom... I've been waiting for you to come."
I knelt before her and took both her hands. "Forgive me, sweetheart. I was too busy to realize you were in pain."
Maya gently shook her head, then hugged me tightly. "I know you're fighting for me too, Mom. And now... everything feels better. That bad thing is over."
She let go of me and looked at me resolutely. "I'm ready to go back to school, Mom. I won't let anyone bother me again."
Emotion welled up in my chest. My daughter, who had once kept everything bottled up, was finally beginning to open her heart. I gently stroked her head. "All right. My daughter is such a wonderful, strong girl. I'll take you to school."
When we arrived at school, the atmosphere felt different from usual. The principal welcomed us with a calmer expression, without the wary look that had once been visible in his eyes.
"I have a report for you, Ms. Alena," he said, polite but firm. "The students involved in bullying Miss Maya have been expelled from the school. They won't be able to bother Miss Maya or any of the other students again."
I nodded in satisfaction. "Thank you, sir. I hope this will serve as a lesson to everyone involved."
But when I mentioned Milana's name, the principal's face creased in confusion. "Milana? Who's that, ma'am?"
Silence fell instantly. I stared at him in disbelief. "That girl... the one who was leading them. Her name was Milana."
The principal slowly shook his head, as if he genuinely didn't understand. "We don't have any student named Milana at this school. There isn't even an enrollment record or any data under that name. I've already asked the teachers and the other students... not one of them has ever heard that name."
My blood seemed to freeze. I went around asking the teachers, the staff, and even the classmates who had been in that room yesterday—every one of them shook their heads. No one remembered Milana. No one had seen that girl yesterday. It was as if she had never existed in the first place.
Maya, walking beside me, fell silent too, then murmured softly, "I... I think I've forgotten her face too, Mom. It feels like a nightmare that's slowly fading away."
I stared down the empty corridor, my chest churning with conflicting emotions. Where had she gone? And why did it seem as though the entire world had forgotten she existed, except me?
The Devil Prince's words flashed through my mind again. The walls holding back your heart are beginning to crack... Was Milana's disappearance connected to that? Or... who was that girl, really?
The question hung unanswered, but I knew one thing. The danger might not be gone forever. It had only... disappeared for the time being.