The officer's voice grew softer as he stared at Ara, his eyes clouded with memories.
"When I saw you in that hospital room," he murmured, his throat tightening, "you were just seventeen."
Ara felt her breath catch.
Seventeen. A number that once held dreams, laughter, and innocence. Now, it was just a bitter reminder of the moment everything changed.
The officer looked away briefly, gathering his thoughts. "Back then… I heard you were a modeling student in high school." He hesitated, his voice trailing off as if the words were too heavy to say.
Ara remained silent.
She knew where this was going.
A soft, tired sigh escaped him before he continued. "I remember standing in that room, looking at you in that horrible state, and all I could think about was my own daughter." His voice trembled slightly, but he held himself together. "You were just a kid. You still are. And yet, life forced you to carry something no one should ever have to bear."
Ara's fingers curled into fists, nails digging into her palms.
His eyes met hers again, filled with something she couldn't quite name—regret, sorrow, maybe even guilt. "I know it's tough," he said, his voice rough with emotion, "but never stop. No matter what was taken from you, don't stop. What you have now—move forward with it."
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The streetlights flickered to life, casting a dim glow over their faces.
Then, the officer swallowed hard and lowered his gaze.
"I need to apologize to you."
Ara frowned. "For what?"
His jaw clenched as a deep, weary sigh left his lips. "Because I couldn't give you justice."
Silence fell between them.
The weight of those words pressed down on her, suffocating yet familiar.
"As a police officer," he continued, his voice laced with frustration, "I should've protected you. I should've fought harder for you. But I lost." His hands clenched into fists. "I lost against powerful families. Against a system that didn't care about the girl lying in that hospital bed."
Ara felt something stir deep inside her, a mix of emotions she couldn't untangle.
The officer exhaled shakily, and then—his shoulders trembled.
His hand came up to his face, and for the first time, she saw it—a tear. A single tear slipping down his weathered face as the memories of that night overwhelmed him.
"I still remember how you looked that night." His voice barely rose above a whisper. "How broken you were. How terrified. And I… I couldn't do anything."
Ara's heart twisted. She had never expected this.
A police officer—someone who was supposed to be strong, composed—was crying for her.
She had spent so long thinking no one cared. That the world had moved on, leaving her to carry the weight alone.
But here he was, standing before her, carrying it too.
The officer wiped his face quickly, trying to compose himself, but the weight of guilt still sat heavily in his chest. His fingers curled into fists, determination flickering in his eyes.
"Ara," he said firmly, his voice steady now. "I'm reopening your case."
Ara's breath hitched.
She blinked at him, unsure if she had heard correctly. "What?"
"I can't… I can't let it go," he admitted, frustration lacing his tone. "For years, I've lived with this guilt, knowing that I failed you. Knowing that the people who did this to you are still walking free." His jaw clenched. "I won't let them get away with it this time. I will give you justice."
Ara's entire body tensed. The words felt like a cold knife pressing against her skin.
"No."
The refusal was sharp, immediate.
The officer's eyes widened slightly. "Ara—"
"I said no," she repeated, her voice quieter this time, but no less firm.
Confusion crossed his face. "But why? This is your chance—"
"I don't want it," she interrupted. "I don't want my past dragging me back again. I… I don't want those talks, those headlines, those looks to return to my life." Her voice wavered, but she stood her ground. "I've worked too hard to move forward. I won't let them take that away from me again."
Officer Bean exhaled deeply, looking at her with a mixture of understanding and sorrow. He didn't push further, but inside, he made a silent promise.
Even if she refused… he would still fight for her.
Suddenly, the bustling crowd shifted around them, and someone brushed against Ara's shoulder.
A simple touch.
But to her, it felt like a shockwave.
She flinched violently, her body jerking back as if she had been struck. Her breathing turned shallow, her hands trembling slightly.
Officer Bean noticed immediately. His protective instincts kicked in. "Ara?" His voice was gentle but alert. "Are you okay?"
She couldn't respond. The world blurred for a moment.
His gaze softened, concern deepening in his eyes. "Are you physically well after… after that incident?"
A thick silence settled between them.
For a moment, it seemed like she wouldn't answer.
Then, in a quiet, almost fragile voice, she finally admitted, "I feel afraid… from anyone's sudden touch."
Officer Bean's chest tightened.
He had seen victims move on. He had seen them heal. But he had also seen the wounds that never truly disappeared.
Ara was strong—stronger than most—but she was still carrying invisible scars.
And no matter what it took… he would fight for her.