Isaac wiped the tears from his cheek and looked at me.

  "What about you, Llyne? Going to tell your part?"

  I froze.

  Mine? About what? About Ma? But that. I...

  My mouth opened. Nothing came out.

  My throat locked, dry and useless. My lips trembled. My vision blurred at the edges. I dropped my gaze, buying time that didn’t exist. My thoughts scrambled, bumping into each other, searching for something simple. A word. Any word.

  Say something. Anything. But. Why couldn't I find the word? Why couldn't I laugh it off? Why couldn't I fake it like I always do? If I don't act, I'll break. And if I break, they’ll know. Know everything. Then they'll kill me. And. And if they do, how... how would I avenge Ma...?

  Thump-thump. Thump. Thump.

  Too fast. Too loud.

  Ma, lying in bed.

  Still.

  The light gone from her eyes.

  "Hic… Hic…"

  The sound slipped out before I could stop it. Then another. My shoulders shook. Tears came hard and sudden, blurring everything. I folded forward, crumpling.

  The noise around me faded. My head went empty. Something inside me gave way, and I couldn’t hold it together anymore.

  "Lil?" Rona's voice was startled. Her shoulder was soaked with my tears and snot. She pulled me back just enough to look at me, eyes wide, confused, worried. “Lil!”

  "What's wrong?" Isaac's voice cut in. Sharp. He leaned closer, eyes scanning my face. His expression tightened.

  “Hey… It’s okay. Everything’s fine now, and…” He hesitated. “I’m sorry for asking.”

  He pulled me into a hug. His hand rested on my head, steady, careful.

  "Mmm… Ma…"

  That did it. Ma used to do that.

  When I cried. When I fell. When I failed. Her hands would ruffle my hair, warm, familiar, always there. The memories rushed in.

  My first day at school. Birthdays. The time I pranked her and got grounded. Laughing competitions. Shared dreams. Now. Her voice. Gone... All gone.

  “I miss Ma…” My voice cracked. “Huhuhuhu…”

  I clung to Rona, bawled. Rona hugged me back tightly. "Don't worry, Rona is here."

  I cried for a long time. In their arms. In front of everyone. Loud, messy sobs that wouldn’t stop, like something held too tight for too long, finally snapping. When it ended, my eyes burned, and my head ached. Everything hurt. I scratched the back of my head and noticed my fingers were still shaking.

  "Oui… That was super embarrassing."

  "It sure was, pufferfish. Heh." Isaac snorted, clutching his chest.

  "Rona thought Lil became a baby." Rona giggled.

  "I cried in front of so many people… and I'm already a teenager." I wiped my nose. "It's embarrassing, but… I unlocked an achievement."

  "Did crying knock loose a few more screws?" Isaac shot back.

  I smirked. You're just jealous.

  "As long as Lil is alright, Rona is happy."

  "Aww~ Rona." I hugged her. She hugged me back right away.

  Then I looked at both of them. I could keep dodging it. But looking at them, remembering everything we’d gone through together, Ma’s voice came back to me. "Don't keep things all buried." I gave a bitter smile. You know what? Enough hiding. Let's do this. I slapped my cheeks once, hard. Isaac gave me a look, but I didn't care. My resolve hardened.

  "Anyways… It's my turn now, right?"

  Isaac hesitated. "You sure? You don't need to force it."

  "Yeah. I'm sure." I nodded. "This is like taking a step forward, right? And… It's you guys. I know I'll be fine."

  "Rona thinks so too."

  Isaac gave a small nod. "Take your time."

  I breathed in. Once. Twice. I opened my mouth. Nothing came out. I clenched my hands. Forced myself to speak.

  I met their gaze and told them everything.

  If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  From Ma’s death. To the people who killed her. To how I was taken. I told them about Lyndall too. I almost didn’t, but… no more secrets. Even if they didn’t believe me, they deserved to know.

  When I finished, no one spoke. Even Rona, usually full of life, sat still, hands resting in her lap. I turned to Isaac. He had not blinked. His chest barely moved. The dungeon felt colder.

  Why aren’t they saying anything? Did I say too much? Did I say it wrong? Say something. Please.

  I couldn’t take it. I slapped my cheeks lightly. They both jumped.

  “I’m done, you know,” I said, hands on my hips. “But you’re both just sitting there. One’s frozen like a statue, and the other…” I glanced at Rona. “…I don’t even know. Say something.”

  Or I'll break. Was something I couldn't admit.

  "I-I was just… processing," Isaac stammered.

  I held my breath. Ah... I... They... I can't... I can't handle the emotion. Joke. Right. Let's just joke it out. Like I always do. Yes. Let's do that.

  I closed my eyes, fighting the last of my tears. I forced a wide smile, teeth showing. “At least look alive. How’s anyone supposed to know?”

  "Rona was shocked," Rona said at once.

  Isaac kept looking at me. For a second, his expression softened. Llyne, she... He shook his head. Let's not pry further. Then he exhaled, straightened, eyes sharpening. His voice turned serious.

  My eyes met his. I bit the inside of my cheek. Thanks, Shorty.

  Isaac crossed his arms. “From what I can deduce,” he began slowly, “men in black suits. Real government IDs. They took kids in public, fast, and clean. No bodies left behind.”

  He glanced at me, then Rona, checking something unseen.

  “They’ve done this before,” he continued. “Long enough to know what they’re doing. And if they can track people who move around…” His jaw tightened. “They have access to records."

  Rona raised her hand. "They drive a black long car. It smells weird."

  Isaac blinked, then nodded. “Right. Thanks, Rona.”

  He reached out, stopped halfway, then pulled his hand back.

  “…Before we go further,” he said, quieter, “this part involves you. Is it okay if we talk about it?”

  Rona tilted her head. “About my parents?”

  “Yes.”

  She smiled. “Okay.”

  Just like that. I looked away.

  Isaac exhaled through his nose. “Tell us if we forgot something.”

  Rona nodded, and we continued.

  I spoke up. "Rona, your parents didn’t let her outside much. Barely came home. When they did, they brought strangers. Right?” Rona gave a thumbs-up.

  Isaac picked it up, voice lower. “That one day they let you out. That’s not normal behavior.”

  “They drank a lot,” I added. “But they didn’t hurt her. At least, not directly.”

  He nodded once. “Which makes the strangers more concerning.”

  The room felt tighter.

  “Those people they brought over,” he said, “might not be random.”

  Rona hummed, swinging her legs. “They were loud too.”

  Isaac went still.

  If Rona says another word, Shorty would probably butcher someone. I winced.

  "Let's focus," I said, turning to Rona. "You never left the house for?"

  "Rona is fifteen."

  "Thanks. Fifteen," I continued. “And suddenly they send you out alone to buy alcohol and groceries? That doesn’t add up.”

  “How long did it take?” Isaac asked.

  “Rona took an hour.”

  I exchanged a look with him. “An hour to buy groceries.”

  “And when you came back,” Isaac said slowly, “the house was already… painted.”

  Rona nodded. “Very red.”

  “That kind of thing doesn’t take long,” I muttered.

  “Probably seconds,” Isaac said.

  “Rona thinks it takes more.”

  I leaned closer to him. “They interrogated them.”

  “Or tortured,” he replied.

  “Rona thinks they’re the same!”

  “RONA!” we shouted.

  Isaac rubbed his temples. “There’s another possibility. They arrived after she left.”

  “Oh!” Rona clapped. “A long black car parked beside the house right after I went out!”

  Isaac froze. “You didn’t mention that.”

  “Rona just remembered.” She ducked behind me. “Oh, and they were surprised when they saw me. They said something about my parents having a daughter.”

  “…They didn’t know?” Isaac breathed.

  “She was hidden,” I said. “Fifteen years. It’s possible she’s not even in the system.”

  Isaac’s expression darkened. “No records. No school. No doctors.” He sank back onto the floor. “She might not exist officially.”

  Silence settled.

  “My head hurts,” he muttered.

  “One thing’s clear,” I said. “This isn’t random.”

  Rona squinted at us. “Are you guys talking in English?”

  “Yes,” Isaac said flatly.

  He turned to me. “Why do you think they’re not random?”

  I shrugged. “Don’t know.”

  “…Why am I listening to you?”

  “Because there’s no one else, loner.”

  He groaned and lay back. “Let’s leave Rona’s story for now.”

  Then, without looking at me, “Your turn next.”

  My chest felt lighter after telling everything earlier, but that didn't mean I wanted to dig it back up again. Still, I met Isaac's gaze.

  “…It wasn’t complicated,” I said, voice tight. “A group showed up. At night. They knew the house. They killed my Ma.”

  The word scraped its way out of my throat.

  “They tried to kill me too,” I added quickly before my courage ran out. “Changed their mind at the last second. Left like they were never there.”

  Rona leaned closer. “Hush hush.”

  Isaac nodded slowly. “Targeted, then. Personal.”

  “Ma said we had enemies,” I muttered. “Said she’d explain someday.” I looked away. “She died a few hours later.”

  Isaac's lips pressed. “…Sorry.”

  “It’s fine.” The words came out on instinct. “Do you think they’re connected to the people who took us?”

  “The Scorpion?” Isaac frowned. “Possible. One group gathers. One cleans up.”

  "Feels wrong," I frowned. "How could the Scorpion even access the government records?"

  "Easy." Isaac's eyes lit up. "Plant a small virus. Disguise it as harmless data, slip it past the firewall. Once it's in, it pulls data in real time."

  I blinked. "...Why do I feel like you've done this before?"

  "…'Cause I did."

  "…And you think you won't get caught."

  "Of course," he said, like it was child's play.

  I rolled my eyes. "Anyways, I 'm not convinced they're working together."

  "Why?"

  "Woman's intuition."

  "You should really stop using that as an excuse."

  “Whatever. Speculation anyway. Big headache.” I rubbed my temples. Chest still felt tight from saying everything out loud.

  “…Fair.”

  Silence crept back in. I could hear the slight scrape of my heartbeat in my ears.

  Isaac exhaled. “Either way, we’ll deal with it later. Third game won’t be kinder.”

  "Don't need to say it twice," My gaze drifted to Rona. She was leaning against the wall, eyes half-closed, arms folded. When did she doze off? When? How?! I waved the thoughts off. Let's focus on something more important.

  "But we do seem like detectives, no?"

  "Detective?" She blinked, suddenly alert, head popping up.

  Oh. Look who's awake now.

  "Yup." I nodded. "I think we're pros."

  "Who's grading us? You?" Isaac scoffed. "You're el stupido."

  "Hey! What do you mean by that?! I should be the one calling you that!" I jumped up.

  "What? Me?" Isaac sat up, matching my energy. "You want to go, fishhead?!"

  "Bring it on, mopface!"

  We lunged.

  He swung a pillow. Wait. Where the hell did he get a pillow? And I ducked, tackled him. He twisted, grabbed my arm, and I elbowed his side.

  "Stop squirming!"

  "You stop punching!"

  "I'm defending my pride!!"

  "You have none!!"

  "TAKE THAT BACK!!"

  "NEV—UGH—GET OFF ME!"

  We rolled, limbs flailing.

  Rona clapped. "Go Lil! Go Isaac! Fight like detectives!"

  "Detectives don't fight like this!!"

  "Detectives should!"

  Emotional turning point achieved.

  “Fragments of Us” isn’t about plot advancement, it’s about rebuilding after trauma, and the trio finally functioning like a family instead of survivors.

  This slower pacing was intentional before the chaos of the next arc.

  Feedback on tone balance (emotional → lighthearted) is welcome.