Betrayal cuts deeper when it comes from within.
Evah finds herself bound, broken, and cornered—interrogated by the very man she once trusted. With her freedom and her family's safety hanging in the balance, she must decide: stay silent and fall, or reveal truths that were never meant to surface.
Meanwhile, a flashback to the sterile halls of Newfangled Inc. reveals the emotional toll of desperation as a father faces an impossible choice—save the woman he loves through a secretive, experimental treatment, or honor her wish to pass on peacefully. But when a child's plea shatters the room's fragile calm, the true cost of hope begins to unfold.
Loyalties blur, morality twists, and the price of salvation may be more than anyone can afford.
Do I really have a choice here?
Evah's thoughts echoed as she stared into the cold concrete floor beneath her.
Her wrists were bound to a chair. Breathing was hard, not from fear — at least not only fear — but from the bruising pressure still lingering on her chest. The pain was Erion's doing, but she knew the blame didn't rest on him. It was her fault. Entirely.
Now, her only possible savior was also her captor. All because of one disastrous decision.
Everything was unraveling.
The recordings would get out — footage of her sneaking into the facility, trying to extract confidential data. It wasn't just illegal. It was betrayal. A betrayal of her team, her principles… and herself.
Jail. That was the best-case scenario.
"I just…" she managed between shallow breaths, her voice nearly a whisper. "Will you protect my family? And… if possible, me."
She didn't dare meet his gaze. Her head hung low, her body trembling not from fear, but the numbness creeping up her spine. The pressure from Erion's hold still lingered on her ribs.
He stood in silence.
Those piercing, devil-blue eyes of his looked down at her like she was a puzzle that insulted his intelligence. No empathy. No rage. Just a perfect storm of judgment.
This was the same man she once believed in. The same Erion whose presence once made her feel safe. Now, it was suffocating.
No wonder he became a Major General.
He didn't have to raise his voice. His silence alone interrogated her.
In desperation, Evah shifted her focus — her only weapon now was knowledge. Her voice grew steadier, carried not by confidence, but the sharp edge of memory.
"I'll tell you everything I know."
INT. BUILDING 3 – NEWFANGLED INC. – FLASHBACK
A sterile white room buzzed softly with the hum of conditioned air. On one side of the room, a frail woman lay on a hospital bed, her breath shallow. Next to her, a boy — no older than seven — sat patiently, wearing a threadbare t-shirt that had seen too many days.
He glanced between his sleeping mother and the door, his small fingers twitching in anticipation.
Across the room, another family sat in similar silence. Different faces, same fate. This facility, this company — Newfangled Inc. — wasn't just a hospital. It was hope for the hopeless. Or so they were told.
The door creaked open. The boy's eyes lit up. But the figure that entered was not the one he'd been waiting for.
"Nari," the man called gently, holding a plastic container of food. He was thin, almost sickly himself. His ragged clothing echoed his son's condition.
"Has Doctor Way been here yet?"
Nari shook his head. "No, not yet." His tone was quiet, disheartened.
The man sighed and knelt down, unpacking the food onto the hospital's ceramic plates. "He'll come. Be patient. I know you're waiting for that toy he promised… but let's not cause any trouble. We owe these people everything."
And then the door opened again. This time, it was him.
Doctor Way, a tall man in a pristine coat, entered with a calm smile and a warm presence. A nurse followed close behind, mirroring his expression.
"Hello, Nari," the doctor greeted, his voice as smooth as silk.
The boy lit up, running straight into the doctor's leg in a tight hug. "Doctor Way!"
Doctor Way chuckled, gently patting the boy's head. "Did you take good care of your mom today?"
Nari nodded, grinning wide. Behind him, his father stood awkwardly, bowing slightly. "Sorry, doctor. He's just always so happy to see you."
"No need to apologize." Way turned, reaching for the nurse. "I believe I made a promise."
From the nurse's bag, he pulled out a small toy — the very one Nari had been dreaming of. The boy's eyes sparkled. In that moment, the world outside ceased to exist.
While Nari played in silence, the doctor took the father aside.
While Nari played in silence, sitting cross-legged on the floor and spinning the toy between his fingers like it was made of gold, Doctor Way took Mr. Li a few steps aside. The tone in the room shifted, quieting as if the very air could sense what was coming.
The doctor's smile faded ever so slightly. "Mr. Li…" he began, his voice now gentler, lower. "I want to be honest with you."
Mr. Li's throat tightened.
"Your wife has… only a few days left."
The words landed like a sledgehammer.
Time seemed to pause. The fluorescent lights above buzzed faintly, suddenly too loud in the hush that followed.
Mr. Li didn't speak. Couldn't.
He had known, of course. He'd watched the woman he loved become a whisper of herself over the last few months. Every cough, every struggle to sit upright, every exhausted glance — they had all pointed to this. But hearing it aloud turned quiet dread into something solid.
Real.
The doctor continued, measured and calm, but not unkind. "We've done all we can with current treatment. Her body… it's not responding anymore."
Behind them, the soft tinkling of Nari's toy felt like it belonged in another world. A world where sick mothers got better and little boys didn't have to learn about death before they could tie their shoes properly.
"I see…" Mr. Li finally whispered. His lips trembled. "She told me she was ready. We made our peace with it." He forced a smile that cracked under the weight of grief. "She wants to rest."
Doctor Way studied him, then glanced toward the sleeping woman. "I understand. But—" he paused, his next words deliberate, "—there may still be a way."
The room shifted again, from despair to confusion.
"What do you mean?" Mr. Li asked, eyes narrowing cautiously.
"There's an experimental treatment," Way said. "Privately developed. Still off the public record. But we've tested it — and the results have been… promising."
Mr. Li's brow furrowed. "I never heard of anything like that. Are you saying this illness… can be cured?"
The doctor nodded. "In some cases, yes. We've seen full recoveries."
The silence that followed was heavier than before — not hollow like grief, but filled with questions, suspicion, and a flicker of something dangerous: hope.
Way took a step closer. "This treatment… it's not available to just anyone. It's costly. Reserved for private clients—elites, mostly. But I made a case to the board. Your wife qualifies. I made sure of it. I know how much your son wants his mother back."
Mr. Li looked at him, stunned. Gratitude and fear warred in his expression. "I… Doctor, I don't know what to say."
"You don't have to say anything now," Way replied. "Just… think about it. I know she said she wanted peace, but maybe—just maybe—she only said that because she didn't want you burdened with hope. With the cost. But if all that was taken care of…"
Way's voice softened to a whisper. "Tell me honestly — if there was no bill to pay… would she still want to die?"
Mr. Li's lips parted, but the words didn't come.
Then—
"Pa… I don't want Mama to die!"
The father turned. Nari stood a few steps away, the toy forgotten in his hand. His eyes were wide, glassy, full of tears that had quietly overflowed. His small body trembled.
Mr. Li dropped to one knee and pulled him close. "Nari…"
"Please, Pa… please let Doctor Way help Mama," the boy sobbed, burying his face into his father's shoulder.
Mr. Li's eyes met Way's, and in them — not desperation, not pleading — but the helplessness of a man watching his family slip away.
Way placed a hand gently on the father's shoulder. "I won't pressure you. It's your choice. But for your son's sake… I hope you'll consider it."
With a final nod, he and the nurse exited quietly, the door clicking shut behind them.
In the silence that followed, father and son clung to each other — one praying for strength, the other simply begging for a miracle.
The next day
Doctor Way had just finished his rounds. He walked down the third-floor corridor of the hospital, a tablet in hand, eyes scanning patient records with clinical precision. The open hallway welcomed a crisp breeze that tugged at the corners of his pristine coat.
Then — a sudden impact near his knee.
Lowering the tablet, Way glanced down to see Nari, arms wrapped tightly around his leg. The boy looked up at him, his face pale, eyes puffy and red from crying.
"Please… save Mama," Nari whispered, voice hoarse with desperation.
Doctor Way's expression softened, his gaze drifting past the child.
Just a few steps away stood Mr. Li, the frail father, mirroring his son's grief. His eyes, too, were swollen — hollowed by a night without sleep and a heart heavy with decision.
He gave a small, solemn nod.
The choice had been made.