Vicky was dusting the shelves when a shiver crawled up her spine. Her hands froze mid-motion. Someone was watching her. She turned slowly toward the door.
Footsteps. A shadow.
She moved closer and opened it cautiously.
"Veena?" Vicky breathed out.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the city, Ruben and his team had stormed a warehouse, locked and loaded, their boots thudding across concrete.
"Clear the zone," Robert called. His voice echoed in the massive space.
In one corner of the building, Jonas and Sara were tangled in laughter, lost in each other's arms on a threadbare mattress. They had no idea what storm was brewing around them.
"We're all clear," someone shouted.
Weapons clicked back into safety—too soon.
From the shadows emerged a line of armed guards, dressed in black, their rifles raised. No insignias. No questions.
"You've got five seconds to tell us who you are," one barked, gesturing to a scanning mat.
They froze.
"We're screwed," Ruben whispered. Guns still strapped, nerves jittering. They'd been made.
An hour later, they were herded like criminals into a tiny, stale room, the door slammed behind them. The air reeked of sweat and metal.
Ruben kicked the wall. "This? This is what you've been hiding from me? A prison cell?!"
"Relax," Robert muttered.
"Relax?" Ruben turned on him. "My gun. Nate's tracker. My whole spy identity—it's all exposed to those bastards. And God knows if we're making it out alive."
"We're here for Paige's uncle," Natasha interjected. "Yes, he's dangerous. So is his wife. But we didn't want to drag you into this because there's a possibility he stole Aid!"
Ruben stared at her, shocked. "And you didn't tell me because…?"
"Because we didn't want you locked in this room!" Natasha snapped. "Nathan's out there alone—with a hair-thread tracker. One trigger and they'll trace him. What if those men are his killers? What if we just handed him over on a silver platter? You forced your way in, Ruben—what, did you think Simon was here and we were covering for him?!"
"Enough!" Robert cut in. Natasha bit her lip and stepped back.
Ruben lowered his head. Silent. The weight of Nathan's safety pressed on his chest like a stone.
Back at Vicky's home, the tension was of a different kind.
"Vicky… how are you, my dear?" said Veena, Faith's mother, her voice warm but weary.
"I'm well, ma'am. How are you and Faith?" Vicky asked, wiping her hands on a rag.
"We're managing," Veena sighed. "Vicky, I need you to hand these documents to the officials when they come to collect yours."
Vicky's face darkened. "Did they give you those to sign too? I tore mine. I'm not signing. They're pushing us out with nothing. No compensation. They want to move us far away—from our kids' schools, the markets… everything."
"I didn't want to sign either," Veena admitted. "But what choice do we have? Next thing you know, they say, 'talk to my lawyer.'"
"If they can lie with lawyers, we can speak the truth," Vicky said, her voice fierce. "They have cars. We walk. They get by with anything. But this house—this house I rebuilt from ashes. I'll fight for it."
Veena placed a hand on her shoulder. "You've endured so much. I pray life grants you peace."
Vicky's eyes welled up. "Our first home was taken from us. I was just a child. I didn't understand Mom's condition, or Father's struggles—not until I lost him. But now? Now I understand everything. I've suffered through every pain life could offer. I'm not scared of a fight like this. I'm not agreeing to anything."
She stood, trembling. Veena gently pulled her into an embrace, whispering for her to calm down.
At the sleek glass headquarters of Nathan's company, all was sharp suits and cold coffee.
Nathan scrolled through reports, eyes glazed over. His mind was elsewhere.
"Koeksisters," he muttered, craving the syrup-drenched pastries.
"This day was supposed to be about snacks. Now look at it," he grumbled. He hit the intercom. "Cindy. Come here."
Moments later, Cindy burst in. "Sir! You have a business event tonight at Carlos' Resort—8 PM sharp. Here's the outfit you're—"
"I know that," Nathan cut in. "Put the clothes in the closet. Come back."
She obeyed, still flustered.
When she returned, he asked, "Do you know what koeksisters are?"
Cindy blinked. "Um... I'm sorry, sir. What's that?"
"You don't know koeksisters? And you're from Goreangab?"
"Yes... but I don't know what you're talking about," she said.
Nathan sighed. "Just go."
She hurried out, baffled. "He's never this soft... Is he okay?"
"I heard that," Nathan called out. She sprinted to her desk.
He leaned back, groaning. "Where am I gonna get them now? Does her sister sell them? Maybe when I meet Emily before lunch… her sister might just be my salvation."