CHAPTER 310: HANGING ON A HOPE

Evaline:

Kieran stopped the car in front of a restaurant tucked neatly along the corner of the busy street. The warm glow from its windows spilled into the afternoon light, a sharp contrast to the heaviness that still hung in my chest after the hospital visit.

He shifted the gear into neutral and turned slightly in his seat to look at us - me and Rowan, who were sitting side by side in the backseat.

"Go inside," Kieran said, his voice even, steady. "I’ll park the car and join you."

I reached for the handle, but before I could push the door open, his voice came again, firmer this time.

"Evaline."

I froze and turned back. His eyes, sharp as ever, were fixed on me. "I need a word with you."

My breath hitched. For a moment, I thought of pretending I hadn’t heard him, but Rowan’s gaze was already flickering between the two of us, confusion shadowing his features. His eyes narrowed slightly, as though he wanted to ask, but held back out of respect.

I forced a small smile for him, silently reassuring him it was nothing to worry about, before slipping out of the car. He climbed out from his side as well, shutting the door behind him.

"I’ll go get us a table," Rowan said after a moment, still giving me that slightly searching look.

"Get a private room," Kieran instructed before I could say anything.

Rowan nodded. "Alright." His eyes lingered on me a second longer, and then he headed inside.

Once he was gone, I walked around the front of the car and slid into the passenger seat. The moment the door clicked shut, the car felt like it had shrunk, pressing me in with the silence. Kieran pulled the car away from the curb, driving us toward the far end of the lot. Neither of us spoke, the only sound the low hum of the engine and the faint noise of traffic from outside.

Finally, he found a spot and killed the engine. The quiet that followed was heavier, settling like a blanket between us.

I waited for him to speak first, my fingers twisting together in my lap.

It took him a full minute before his voice broke the silence. "Why did you lie to him?"

I turned my head sharply, meeting his eyes. "I didn’t lie," I said firmly, maybe too quickly.

His gaze didn’t waver.

"I didn’t," I repeated, softer this time. "I told him there’s no known cure for Soul Death. That’s true. And I told him you and the Council are still investigating. That’s true, too. I didn’t lie."

Kieran nodded slowly, but it wasn’t agreement... it was disapproval, a silent stripping apart of my defense. "That’s not what I’m talking about," he said finally. His voice was calm, but every word carried weight. "I’m talking about the hope you gave him. You made him believe a cure might exist, when even centuries of research have failed. Even now, with all the resources we have, we haven’t found anything close."

The words cut like blades, but I shook my head stubbornly. "That doesn’t make it a lie."

"Eva-"

"No, listen to me," I cut him off, my voice rising before I caught myself and forced it softer. "Just because no cure was found before doesn’t mean it won’t be found tomorrow, or next month, or next year. Just because history has failed doesn’t mean the future will. How can you say with absolute certainty that there’s no cure?"

His eyes narrowed slightly, but I pressed on before he could interrupt.

"And even if there isn’t one right now, what’s so wrong about giving him hope? He’s been carrying her pain for nearly a year. Do you know what it would do to him if I told him outright there’s no chance, no possibility at all? Hope is the only thing he has left, Professor. And I won’t take it away from him."

My throat burned with the words. I didn’t realize until then how fiercely I meant them. "If I can help him hold on to that hope, even if it’s fragile, even if it breaks later... then I’ll do it. I’ll help him search for that cure myself."

At that, Kieran’s gaze sharpened and his jaw clenched ever so slightly. For a moment, I thought he would scold me the way he sometimes did when he thought I was being reckless. Instead, he let out a deep sigh and leaned back in his seat, rubbing his hand across his forehead as if to smooth away a headache.

"I told you," he said after a long pause, "I wanted you to stay out of this matter."

"I tried," I whispered, staring down at my lap. "I really did. After that tower incident... I told myself I would stop when you asked me to. But it doesn’t matter anymore, does it? Somehow, I keep being pulled back into it." I lifted my eyes to his, my voice steadier now. "And I’m done pretending otherwise. I can’t stay away, not anymore. Not when Rowan’s involved. Not when Naira’s lying in that bed because of it."

He stared at me for a long moment, unreadable as ever. His lips parted, but no sharp rebuke came. No demand. No order. Just another sigh, heavier this time, as he leaned back in his seat.

"You are going to give me headaches," he muttered under his breath, almost too low for me to hear. "Always making me worry."

Something inside me softened at that, though I didn’t let it show. I simply sat in silence with him until the moment passed.

Finally, we both climbed out of the car and walked toward the restaurant. Neither of us spoke again until we stepped inside and a server led us to the private room Rowan had booked.

The small space was warm, with cushioned seats around a polished table and curtains drawn over the glass windows. Rowan was already waiting for us, a faint smile tugging at his lips when we entered.

"You took your time," he teased lightly, though his eyes flickered with curiosity at whatever had delayed us.

Kieran didn’t respond, only gestured for us to sit.

Once the server brought water and menus and left us alone, Kieran leaned forward slightly. "This room is private," he said. "We can speak freely here."

I nodded, then turned to Rowan. "There’s something you might want to know," I began carefully. "About how I first learned of the Soul Deaths."