I lifted Aisyah off the cold bathroom floor and half-carried her out of that ransacked house. I didn't care about the pain in my stomach or the bruise on my neck. Time was tight now. I had to get her to a truly safe place and give her first aid — not to a hospital. Hospitals would be too dangerous; they were surely being watched closely by them.
I laid her down on the back seat of the car I'd rented; I'd already rearranged the seat to support her more stably. We sped away from Aisyah's housing complex, cutting through the cold, empty night on the city's outskirts. I rented a room in an old motel tucked behind a narrow alley where no one would think to look for me.
After getting her inside the room, I immediately cleaned the slashed wound on her arm that had been bleeding a lot. I tore the shirt I was wearing and tied her arm tight to staunch the flow. Aisyah's face was very pale — definitely the effect of the injection they'd given her and the marks from the earlier strangling. I sat beside her, holding her hand, which felt ice-cold.
Suddenly Aisyah's eyes opened a little. She looked at me, her gaze blank at first, then slowly she began to focus. An extraordinary anger flared in her eyes — a fury I'd never seen in her before. She wrenched her hand away from me, and with the last of her strength she slapped me hard across the face. The slap cracked through the motel room's silence.
I was stunned; my cheek burned and hurt. The slap left no physical wound, but it stung far worse than any blow I'd taken. I looked at her, unable to believe what she'd done. "Aisyah, why did you slap me?" I asked, my voice shocked and hoarse. Tears spilled from her eyes, streaming down and wetting both temples.
She took a ragged, labored breath; her voice was very weak but full of hatred and painful accusation. "Don't touch me! Get out of my sight, you bastard! All this mess is your fault, Gamali!" she whispered, her voice breaking as she tried to hold back a great sob. I could see fear, pain, and hatred mixed in her eyes. I simply sat there, frozen, taking in all the bitter words she threw at me.
I tried to reach for her hand again, wanting to calm her, but she shoved my hand away roughly. "I don't want to hear anything from you anymore, Gamali. I'm not a stupid child! Your brother died horribly, and I — I was nearly strangled to death in my own house. All of this is because you dragged us into your damned problems!" She pointed at me with a trembling finger.
Her words were brutally honest, hitting me without mercy, stabbing right at my core and taking my breath away.
I knew she was right. I'd been the start of this problem; I'd been foolish to get involved in Rio's business. But I was also a victim, just like her. I tried to defend myself; my eyes were wet, but I fought to hold back my tears. "I'm a victim too, Aisyah! I never asked for any of this to happen, I never knew Rio would betray us like this — he stabbed me in the back!"
Aisyah laughed — a laugh that sounded bitter and painful in my ears. "A victim? What kind of victim leaves a human heart as a package on your front door, huh?! You enjoy all these dirty games, Gamali! You're just obsessed with Rio and your stupid revenge!" Her accusation was savage, crushing the last of my resolve.
My blood boiled again. This time it wasn't because of threats from our enemies, but because of the accusations from the person I loved most. I stood up beside the bed, looking at her with wounded, angry eyes. "You think I like seeing all this?! I almost died today, Aisyah! I won't stop, no matter what you say! I won't stop until they're all crushed to pieces!" I shouted, my voice booming in the cramped room.
I clenched my fists so hard my knuckles went white, trying to hold back the turmoil of emotion and the stabbing pain in my chest. This was no longer just about the key or Andaru — it was about my pride, about Aisyah's life that had almost been taken. I had to retaliate for what they'd done to us; I had to make them suffer like I had. The fire of my vengeance devoured everything.
Aisyah took a long breath; her tears kept falling. She looked at me with a pleading expression that made me feel deeply guilty. "What good will any of this do, Gamali? You'll only make things worse! Please stop this, I beg you!" she pleaded, her voice barely audible, weak and heartrending.
"No!" I snapped, refusing her plea. "I can't just stop! They threatened you, they humiliated me! I have to make them pay for their crimes — that's the only way we can live free!" I tried to convince her, but my words sounded hollow and desperate even to my own ears.
Aisyah shook her head slowly, looking at me with pity and disappointment. She raised a hand to touch my cheek, then lowered it again. "You'll never understand, Gamali. Your filthy obsession will kill us all. We should run, not seek revenge. They're too strong for us to fight."
Her words pierced me, making me feel alienated and alone. It felt like a double betrayal — from Rio, and now from Aisyah. I stepped away from her and walked to the corner of the room, trying to steady my ragged breathing. I really felt utterly alone in a huge problem I hadn't chosen.
"I don't care," I whispered softly, mostly to myself, feeling the strange pattern on my right palm pulse hot again. "I'll do whatever it takes to stop them. Whatever the cost!"
I touched the pendant of Aisyah I'd put in my pocket; it was warm and gave a fragile sliver of reassurance. The snake symbol in the mirror last night must mean something — I had to find out right away.
I looked back at Aisyah; she was curled up on the bed, crying silently. The sight tore at my heart; guilt tightened its grip. But behind all that, a decision had already been made. I had to continue. I had to face that Shadow. If I stopped now, we would all die in vain.
I had to find out everything about Rio, all his dirty secrets, and why he'd dragged Aisyah into this. I had to know what he meant when he said he had "opened a problem he shouldn't have opened." That had to be the main clue. I had to start investigating from scratch.
While I was thinking about my next move, trying to find a way to contact someone without being detected, a sudden loud rustling sound made me jump. I searched for the source. In the corner of the room, an old, dead TV suddenly turned on by itself.
The speckled screen flickered to life and began broadcasting local news. Both Aisyah and I stared at the dim screen with held breath, unbelieving of what we were seeing. The female reporter spoke in a serious, formal tone.
Aisyah's already pale face went even paler; she stared at the screen in horror, her hand rising to point with a trembling finger. I leaned forward to hear the reporter more clearly, but I could read the running headline at the bottom of the screen.
The news hit like a giant sledgehammer, shattering all my assumptions about Surya and the Korpora network. On the screen was a photo of a man whose face I recognized very well. It was Surya — yes, the former boss of Andaru at Korpora, the one we'd suspected all along as the mastermind behind everything.
The reporter's voice came through clearly in the quiet motel room. The first sentence out of her mouth turned my world upside down.
"BREAKING NEWS: Surya, the prime suspect in international organ trafficking under the Korpora network, was found gruesomely murdered last night in an old warehouse in North Jakarta."
I froze where I stood. Surya dead? Not Rio, not Aisyah, but Surya? Who killed him? Who would dare go that far? My right hand trembled uncontrollably. That wasn't my doing. Nor was it the work of that masked man. Who exactly was this Shadow? Or perhaps Rio was still alive and the one behind all this? I didn't know who to trust anymore. I looked at Aisyah; her terrified face accused me even more.