Elektra winced as she shifted in the bed, every movement sending sharp pangs through her bandaged wounds. The room around her was familiar, yet filled with a sense of bitter nostalgia. She recognized Maize's childhood room, the place where they had once played together, long before they were in competition against each other.

As she lay there, she couldn't help but smile at the happy memories that flitted through her mind. The times when she and Maize would dream up grand adventures, plotting their futures without a care in the world. But those days felt like a lifetime ago, buried under the weight of recent events.

The door creaked open, and Elektra's smile faded as Maize stepped into the room, her presence commanding as ever. "Well, if it isn't little miss perfect," Elektra sneered, her voice tinged with pain and sarcasm. "What do you want?"

Maize closed the door behind her, her expression a mix of curiosity and pity. "I want to know why you're here, on my territory," she said, her tone sharp. "And don't give me any of your usual nonsense. This is serious."

Elektra met Maize's gaze, defiance burning in her eyes despite her weakened state. "I'm here to prevent The Hound from interfering in family matters," she replied steadily. "He's intruding on things that don’t concern him.”

Maize's eyes narrowed, a flicker of surprise crossing her features. "What matters is he getting involved in? Last time I checked, he spends most of his time scouring Havana for traces of The Triads."

Elektra nodded, wincing as another wave of pain coursed through her. "Let’s just say he has a knack for stumbling into our affairs. And what my family does is none of your business.”

Maize took a step closer, her expression softening slightly. "You should have come to me first. We could have dealt with this more cleanly."

Elektra's eyes hardened, a flash of old rivalries reigniting. "Yeah, tell my biggest rival, my family's secret. That sounds like a great plan."

Maize edged closer to Elektra, so close they could feel each other's breath. "Speaking of trust, did you consider the consequences of your actions? You nearly hurt Sabir today. He’s just a poor little dud, and he was caught in the middle of that chaos.”

Elektra’s brow furrowed in confusion. “A dud? Why do you care? Those kinds of people are like leeches—useless.”

Maize’s face tightened with frustration, her eyes flashing. “You should have seen him fighting for his life, struggling against a vinefiend. He showed more courage than some people I know.”

Elektra scoffed, her tone dripping with disdain. “Ah, you did it again. Always taking a strange interest in someone only to watch them suffer. Even for you, that's a sick hobby.”

Maize’s eyes sparkled with a mix of fondness and mischief, her lips curling into a smile. “He had the most endearing look on his face as he nearly died. And those golden eyes that closed right after I saved him—tee hee.” She giggled softly, the sound at odds with the gravity of the situation.

Elektra’s eyes widened, and she shot up from the bed, ignoring the searing pain. “Wait, did you say golden eyes?” Maize nodded, puzzled by Elektra’s reaction.

“What was the kid's name?”

“Kid? He’s actually a year older than us, technically,” Maize replied, arching an eyebrow.

“I don’t care—what’s his name?” Elektra demanded, her voice edged with panic.

“He was so terrified he only gave me his first name. But I had Mr. Ward tell me his full name. I think it’s Sabir Quinn.”

“Quinn. Quinn. Shit, shit. Oh no, my brother is going to kill me!” Elektra’s voice was filled with panic, her mind racing with the implications.

Maize’s face softened slightly as she took in Elektra’s distress. “What’s the matter? Why are you so upset?”

“I made a huge mistake. I’m going to get grounded for sure.” Elektra’s voice was small, a rare glimpse of vulnerability showing through her tough exterior.

Maize sighed and ran a hand through her long hair. “I don’t usually do this, but it looks like you need some help. What happened?”

Elektra hesitated, her mind racing. She had to decide whether she could trust Maize again. “Where is that kid now? You didn’t... kill him, did you?”

“Oh, we were riding on Violet when he woke up. I was planning to drop him off at The Limbo, but he made me put him down right away. I think I dropped him somewhere in The Commons. He was so scared of Violet that he ran off all bloodied,” Maize said, covering her mouth to stifle a giggle.

“He’s alive?” Elektra sighed in relief, the tension easing slightly from her shoulders.

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Maize’s expression turned serious. “What are you planning to do with him? I can’t let you hurt him.”

Elektra shook her head. “Forget about that. Does your mother know I’m here?”

“Yes, the matriarch was informed, but she didn’t seem to care. She just laughed, saying something about the Voltaire family being in shambles.”

“Damn, what are the chances that my presence here got back to my father or Noah?”

“Unlikely,” Maize said with a shrug.

Elektra hesitated, biting her lip before speaking. “Hey, Maize, my old childhood friend, do you mind dropping me off at The Commons?”

Maize’s gaze was filled with a mix of contempt and amusement. “Fine. But don’t expect me to be your chauffeur for long,” she replied, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of her lips as she turned to make arrangements.

Elektra watched her leave, a complicated mix of gratitude and old resentment swirling in her chest.

—

Max lay his head on his desk, the weight of worry and frustration pressing down on him. Across the room, Samantha sprawled on Max’s bed, staring at the ceiling with the same heavy heart. The silence between them was thick with despair, both of them struggling to think of a way to find Sabir.

Max lifted his head slightly, his voice barely above a whisper. “The only lead we have is that The Hound might’ve moved to another sector after getting into a bust-up with some government enforcers.”

Samantha sighed, her eyes still fixed on the ceiling. “But how could we know where to look? We don’t even have the money to travel to another sector.”

Max’s hand tightened into a fist. “I feel so helpless. We’re stuck here while Sabir could be anywhere, and there’s nothing we can do about it.”

Samantha turned her head to look at Max, her eyes filled with a mix of determination and sadness. “We’ll find a way, Max. We have to. Sabir’s counting on us.”

Max nodded, though his expression remained grim. “We need a plan. And fast.”

A series of noises began to tap against the window. At first, they ignored it, too absorbed in their thoughts. But as the tapping continued, Max’s annoyance grew.

“What is that?” he muttered, irritation edging his voice. He stood up and moved toward the window, his frustration mounting with each step. “I’m trying to think—what is that?”

Max flung the window open just as a rock sailed through the air, striking him squarely on the forehead. “Damn it! Who did that? It’s midnight, goddammit!”

He looked down, his anger momentarily replaced by shock. There, standing below the window, was Sabir, looking as he always had but now severely wounded and bloody.

Max blinked, dazed, struggling to believe what he was seeing. “Samantha,” he called over his shoulder, his voice tinged with disbelief. “Sabir’s ghost has come to haunt us.”

Samantha, confused by Max's outburst, moved to the window. She peered out, her eyes widening in shock as she recognized the figure below. “Oh my god, Max, it is Sabir!” Her voice trembled with a mix of disbelief and relief.

Sabir’s voice, weak but unmistakable, floated up to them. “You idiot, it’s really me. Hurry up and help me up!”

Max shook off his stupor, quickly grabbing the rope they always kept by the window—a remnant of their school days when Sabir’s parents had forbidden him from entering their house. Back then, they’d use the rope to sneak Sabir in whenever school ended early. Tonight, it served a much graver purpose.

“Hold on, Sabir!” Max shouted, tossing the rope down. He and Samantha strained, pulling Sabir up through the window with all their might. As Sabir climbed through, his body collapsed onto the floor, panting heavily and leaving smears of blood on the carpet.

Max and Samantha fell to their knees, staring at him in amazement.

“Are you really Sabir, or are you a clone?” Max asked, his voice trembling with uncertainty.

Samantha’s eyes widened with concern. “He’s really hurt. Sabir, are you okay?”

Ignoring their questions, Sabir pulled them both into a hug, dropping them to the floor with him. The embrace was tight, filled with relief and exhaustion.

“What the hell is going on?” Max exclaimed, his mind racing to catch up with the situation.

Samantha, blushing from the unexpected closeness, said nothing, her worry evident in her eyes. She gently touched Sabir's arm, feeling the warmth and the slight tremor of his exhausted body.

Sabir, his voice barely a whisper, said, “It’s good to be back.”

Max, still in a daze, glanced around the room at the scattered school memorabilia and the familiar sight of the rope now lying limply by the window. It was surreal to have Sabir back in this context—wounded, bloodied, yet alive.

“Max, we need to clean and bandage his wounds,” Samantha said, snapping Max back to the present.

“Right,” Max replied, shaking off his shock. “First aid kit is under the bed.”

As Samantha fetched the kit, Max helped Sabir to a sitting position. “You’re a sight for sore eyes, Sabir,” he said with a weak smile. “But you’ve got some serious explaining to do.”

Sabir’s grip tightened on Max’s shoulder. “Later,” he muttered. “Just... let me catch my breath.”

Samantha returned with the first aid kit, her hands steady but her eyes filled with concern. She knelt beside Sabir, starting to clean his wounds with practiced care.

“We thought we’d lost you,” Samantha said softly, her voice breaking slightly. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

Sabir looked at her with a slight smile, his golden eyes filled with gratitude and determination. “I wasn’t going to let that happen. Not when I knew you two were out here, waiting.”

The room was silent except for the soft sounds of Samantha tending to Sabir’s injuries. The weight of the moment settled over them, a mix of relief and the sobering reality of what Sabir had endured.

“It’s good to be back,” Sabir repeated, more firmly this time, his eyes meeting theirs with a promise of stories yet to be told and mysteries yet to be solved.