Chapter 2
LAYLA POV
"Are you sure... it's me, not someone else?"
Because it didn't make sense. It couldn't be me. I still had years left. Years.
"Yes," he said calmly. "I am sure it is you."
"You are Layla Abdul Rahman, right?" he asked.
"Yes, sir," I said, my fingers trembling slightly.
"So it is you. It came as a surprise to us as well," he continued. "But the court has ordered your release."
My heart beats harder.
"The court?" I repeated faintly.
"Yes. It seems someone powerful interfered in your case."
Someone... powerful? My brows furrowed.
"But, I don't know anyone like that, sir," I said honestly.
Not anymore. Not after everything.
"That," he said, leaning back slightly, "I do not know."
He pushed a paper toward me.
"Sign this."
My eyes dropped onto the document. The words blurred slightly. My hand hesitated for a second, before I slowly picked up the pen. Was this real? Or was this another cruel illusion? Still... I signed. Because whether it was real or not, I had no choice but to follow it.
My name-Layla Abdul Rahman. The same name that had been dragged through the mud. The same name they labeled a murderer.
"You can go," he said.
Just like that. You can go. The words echoed in my mind strangely. Go where? To what? I turned slowly and walked out of the office, my steps almost mechanical.
"Follow me to the front desk," the guard said.
I nodded faintly and followed. Everything felt distant and unreal. Like I was watching myself from somewhere else. I never thought I would leave this place. Not like this. Not so suddenly.
Who did this? Why now? If they had the power, why didn't they help me before? Why did I have to suffer for three years? We reached the front desk.
"You'll change into this," one of the officers said, handing me a set of clothes.
"They were brought for you."
I stared at them for a moment. The new clothes are clean and soft. Unlike anything I had worn in years. My fingers brushed against the fabric slowly. Someone, really prepared this. I changed quietly.
The familiar prison uniform left my body, and for a moment, I felt exposed. Like I didn't belong in these clothes anymore.
"You can go," they said.
Just like that. No insults. No harsh tone. Only curious looks. That alone felt strange. I walked forward slowly. Toward the gate.
Each step felt heavier than the last. And then... I stepped out. The sunlight hit me instantly. It was bright, warm, and blinding. I flinched slightly, my eyes squeezing shut as the light overwhelmed me. It felt too strong, like something I wasn't used to anymore.
I blinked slowly, adjusting to the outside world. Freedom. The word didn't feel real, it felt strange. I looked around slowly, my heart still uncertain. This wasn't how I imagined leaving. There was no joy, no excitement. Only confusion and questions.
Maybe... Maybe the person who got me out was here. Watching and waiting for me. I took a step forward, then another. Hope slowly rising inside me.
But the moment I reached the gate. Everything changed. It changed so fast that I couldn't comprehend what was happening. There were flashes, voices and noise.
"So you're finally out!"
"The news is true!"
"Layla! Over here!"
"Do you admit to the murder now?!"
"Who helped you get released?!"
"Are you still under investigation?!"
The lights. The shouting. The crowd. My body froze instantly and everything went blank. My breath caught in my throat.
The air felt thick, heavy, like it refused to enter my lungs. My chest tightened painfully, rising and falling too fast, too shallow. My throat burned as if it was closing in on itself.
I was suffocating.
My vision blurred, the world around me tilting slightly as the ground beneath my feet no longer felt steady. The flashes from the cameras burned into my eyes, leaving behind white spots that danced in my vision.
"I... I can't..."
My lips parted, but no sound came out. The voices didn't stop. They grew louder. Closer. Sharper.
"Murderer!"
"Confess!"
"You killed her!"
"Did you kill your sister?!"
"Was it for the inheritance?!"
Each word struck me like a blow, dragging me back-back to that day. Back to the accusations. The cold stares. The way they looked at me like I was something filthy.
My fingers curled weakly at my sides as my body swayed. This can't be happening... not again. I can't fall apart like this.
My head spun, dizziness crashing over me in waves. The crowd pressed closer, suffocating me further. I could feel bodies brushing against mine, hands reaching, grabbing, pushing.
Everything was happening too fast. Too much. I couldn't think. I couldn't see. I couldn't escape it. And then. A sudden force from the crowd slammed into me from the side.
My body jerked violently, balance slipping completely from beneath me. A soft gasp escaped my lips as I stumbled forward, my feet failing to catch me. I was going to fall.
The ground rushed up toward me, cold and unforgiving. My heart dropped with it, a sharp fear flashing through me as I braced for the impact. But it never came. A hand caught me, firm, strong and steady.
It wrapped around my arm with a grip that didn't hurt, yet held me with undeniable strength, pulling me back before I could collapse. My body collided lightly against something solid, warmth seeping through the thin fabric of my clothes.
For a moment, everything stilled. The noise faded. The chaos blurred into the background. All I could feel was that hand. Warm. Grounding. Unfamiliar... yet strangely familiar at the same time.
My breath hitched sharply as I struggled to steady myself, my chest still rising and falling unevenly. My fingers instinctively gripped onto the arm that held me, as if it was the only thing keeping me from falling apart completely.
Who... My thoughts were slow, scattered, trying to piece together what had just happened. The hand tightened slightly, not in force, but in support. As if making sure I wouldn't fall again.
I swallowed hard, my throat dry, my heart still racing uncontrollably against my chest. The world slowly began to come back into focus, though the noise remained distant, muffled, like I was underwater.
The flashing lights, the shouting, the crowd was still there. But somehow... none of that mattered in that moment. Because all I could feel was the presence beside me.
I forced myself to stand properly, my legs still weak beneath me. My body trembled slightly, but I managed to regain a bit of balance with the support holding me.
My breathing was still uneven. But I wasn't falling anymore. Slowly, hesitantly... I lifted my head.
My eyes followed the arm that held me, my gaze traveling upward inch by inch, my heart beginning to pound again, but this time, not from fear. It was something else. Something deeper. I couldn't explain it. A strange tension settled in my chest.
My fingers tightened unconsciously.
And then.
I looked up.
Only to see the face of the person I never thought I will ever meet again.
