Night faded into morning, but the tension in the hospital room lingered. Heng sat with Monica and Sophea, the three locked in a serious discussion.
"I have to go back home today," Monica insisted, her tone resolute.
Her parents shook their heads.
"Take care of your health first," Heng said firmly. "And when Visak returns, get married as soon as possible."
"How?" Monica asked, frustration creeping into her voice.
"I'll handle everything," Heng assured her. "I won't let my daughter face circumstances like this again."
Sophea remained silent, her expression unreadable.
"As for Dara," Heng continued, "he acted on his own, but it's fine. The case is going to be closed anyway, and I'm planning to send him abroad, as his mother always wished."
"It won't be easy with the situation as it is," Sophea finally said.
"I'll make it happen," Heng replied, his determination unwavering.
"And ruin the company?" Monica challenged.
Heng hesitated, then reassured her, "Monica, Dad won't let that happen. Dalin is handling things now. No need to worry."
"Police will contact me sooner or today if possible, and Dara won't give up," Monica said firmly. "Dad, think differently, please."
Heng sighed, his expression shifting as he acknowledged her point. "He's been through so much already. I know how to handle him."
"But I can't just avoid it and I am ok to be interrogated by the police," Monica replied. "Dad, let's deal with this openly. I can handle it."
Heng studied her face, searching for any sign of hesitation. Monica met his gaze confidently, then reached out and grabbed his hand.
"Dad, leave it to me. Let me resolve this case myself—it'll be cleared. Think about it. I told local police that I only met her, nothing more. Isn't that clear enough?"
Heng nodded slowly, a reluctant trust settling over him.
"Okay," he said, his tone steady. "Dad trusts you."
But Sophea couldn't shake the unease that weighed on her chest, her concern running far deeper than she let on.
***
The evening fell quietly as Monica, still not fully recovered, prepared to return home.
At home, she lay on her bed in her room, her mother seated beside her, stroking her hair gently.
"Will you stay with me, Mom?" daughter asked softly, her voice tinged with vulnerability.
Sophea's heart ached. "I'm sorry," she said, her tone filled with regret. "I wanted to bring you to our house, but your dad didn't agree."
Monica sighed, trying to smile. "But I'm sick… No, it's okay. You can go. Take some rest and eat well, alright? I'll see you after."
Sophea nodded. "Okay."
"And, Marina?" Monica asked.
"She went out," Sophea replied.
"Call her to come home. Don't let her stay out too late."
"I will," Sophea assured her.
"Mom."
"Huh?"
"Don't worry about me. Stepmom takes good care of me, as you already know."
"I know," Sophea said, her voice soft. "You've always told me that. She doesn't have children of her own, anyway."
"Ok. You're going home by yourself?" Monica asked.
"Your dad arranged a driver for me."
"Okay. Mom, go now. Grandma is waiting for you."
"See you later, my daughter," Sophea said, her voice heavy with emotion.
Monica gave her a small wave, watching as Sophea left the room. The quiet settled in, leaving Monica alone with her thoughts.
She wanted desperately for her mother to stay with her, but the words caught in her throat. She watched Sophea leave, her heart aching with a sorrow she couldn't voice.
Longing filled her chest as the door closed, leaving her alone with the silence, wishing for her mother's presence but unable to ask for it.
---
As Madam Sophea left, her heart heavy with sadness, she couldn't shake the feeling of leaving her sick daughter behind. The pain of it gnawed at her, but she knew she had no choice.
Meanwhile, Mr. Heng, watching from a distance, noticed his ex-wife's sorrow as she climbed into the car with the driver. He understood her struggle—he saw the silent pain in her eyes, knowing that she, too, felt torn by the situation.
***
Dalin entered Monica's room, carrying a tray with water, medicine, and porridge. She noticed how Monica remained silent, her face unreadable. She set the tray down beside her, his tone gentle but firm.
"Eat the porridge first, and then you can take your medicine, and your feet will recover faster," she said.
"Why did you bring me this? Where is sister Nuth?" Monica demanded, her tone sharp.
"She's busy in the kitchen!" Dalin replied with a quick shrug.
"Ok! Thanks. Just leave it here, I'll eat later," Monica replied, her voice faint.
"You need to eat now," Dalin insisted. "And get some sleep soon."
"I don't want to yet," stepdaughter muttered, looking away.
"Don't be reckless," Dalin warned, his voice soft but firm.
Monica let out a deep breath, then reluctantly began to eat, her mind elsewhere. Suddenly, something crossed her mind.
"Oh, where's my phone?" she asked.
Dalin glanced over at her purse, then reached inside to retrieve the phone, handing it to her.
"Oh…thank you!" Monica murmured, taking it from her. She felt a brief sense of relief, but it quickly faded as her thoughts returned to the lingering heaviness she couldn't shake.
"Visak just talked with Dad, and he called you too, but you didn't pick up," Dalin said, his tone calm.
"Really?" Monica asked, raising an eyebrow in disbelief.
She grabbed her phone and checked, her eyes widening as she saw three missed calls.
Monica dialed Visak's number again, but the line was busy. Frustrated, she turned to Dalin.
"Are you informed that two new architects are starting next month?" she asked.
"Yes, Oudom told me, and I checked into it," Dalin replied.
"What do you think?"
"I did some digging. One of them is Dara's friend, Bunrong!"
"Really?" Monica asked, raising an eyebrow in surprise.
"Is it just a coincidence? I thought you knew!" Dalin said, his tone curious.
"I didn't," she replied.
"They're part of a group of friends with a man named Sethya—his lover," Dalin continued.
"Oh, goddess," Monica muttered.
"That guy runs his own clothing shop. Have you ever checked with Visak if he knows him?" Dalin asked.
Monica hesitated, her thoughts spinning. "No, never thought about it!"
Dalin looked at Monica with a skeptical expression. "You've followed Dara's life this far, and you didn't know about this?"
Monica chuckled softly, shaking her head. "I followed him, yes, but only with his mother. I never dug too deep into his circle."
"But what does this have to do with Visak?" Monica asked, intrigued.
"I know Visak came through your mom's side. You trust him, but I'm not so sure. And…I assume you love him," Dalin said.
Monica's interest piqued. "What do you mean by 'I assume you love him'?"
"Forget it if I was wrong," Dalin replied.
"Okay," Monica said, but her mind lingered on the words.
"Your mom, Visak, and Sethya are all involved in the clothing and fabrics community. That's why I'm saying you should pay more attention to him," Dalin explained.
Monica glanced at Dalin, her curiosity still piqued. "They might know each other?" she asked, her voice laced with uncertainty.
Dalin paused for a moment, considering. "It's possible. The circles they move in aren't too far apart. But until we know more, it's just speculation."
Monica nodded slowly, absorbing the information. "I assume you care about me, and I'll take that into account. By the way, about Dara's video footage, do you think it involves Visak?"
Stepmom hesitated. "...I didn't mean it like that."
Stepdaughter sighed, leaning back. "He's been abroad, just graduated with a master's degree in China this year... no, thank you for the reminder, though."
Dalin smiled faintly and began adjusting Monica's bed, fluffing her pillow and arranging things on her desk with quiet care.
***
Monica finished her porridge and took her medicine, soon drifting into a deep sleep.
Meanwhile, Visak had called several times, unable to let it go. As Dalin sat at the desk in the same room, sorting through some documents, she decided to answer the phone.
"Hello, Visak," she said, her tone neutral.
Visak's voice came through the line, anxious. "Madam Dalin?"
"Yes," Dalin replied.
"Where is Monic?"
"She's sleeping," Dalin answered.
"Oh, she is. Is she better?" he asked, his voice filled with concern.
"Yes, she's feeling better now. No worries," she reassured him.
"I see, but I really wanted to hear her voice. She called me, but I couldn't answer."
"Call again tomorrow. It's hard for her to fall asleep right now," Dalin said.
"Yes. Thank you, Madam."
"And don't worry, Visak," Dalin added. "Just finish your work and come back."
"Yes, Madam," Visak replied before the call ended.
Dalin put the phone down, glancing over at Monica, who slept soundly. The weight of the situation still lingered in the air.
Before leaving the room, Dalin gently pulled the blanket up over her stepdaughter, ensuring she was comfortable. She paused for a moment, looking down at her sleeping stepdaughter, her voice barely a whisper.
"You really never considered me as your mother, once, Monica!"
The statement hung in the air, unanswered, as the stepmother quietly left the room, the weight of her unspoken emotions settling around her.
***
The next day, a group of police officers arrived at Heng's villa. Two of them entered the house, greeted warmly by Mr. Heng.
"Hello, sir!" one of the officers said.
"Yes, hello, inspector Borin!," Heng replied with a cordial smile. Borin, a man in his early forties nodded and showed his respect.
Officer Borin stepped forward and presented a summons warrant.
"Based on a report from Kandal II district, we are required to bring Miss Han Monica to the police station for questioning."
Heng nodded. "I'll have my daughter come down."
Moments later, Monica, who had recovered from her illness, walked down the stairs slowly and greeted the police officers with a calm demeanor.
Dalin followed closely behind, glancing at Heng's face, searching for any sign of confirmation or discomfort. Heng's expression remained neutral, but his eyes were calculating.
***
At the police station, two officers sat across from Monica in the sterile interrogation room, one of them is Mr. Borin, Monica's male lawyer, sat next to her.
After introducing themselves and collecting her phone, as well as the memory card from her car, the questioning continued.
"So, did you really go to meet late Kong Saroath at her hometown on Thursday, the 9th of last month?" officer Borin asked.
"Yes, I did," Monica replied without hesitation.
"But there are claims that your father, Mr. Heng, was there too," the officer pressed.
"No, that's not true!" Monica said firmly. "I was alone with her that day—my father wasn't there."
"What was the purpose of seeing her?" the officer pressed.
"We had been talking a lot recently, via chat and calls before she died. About Dara, my brother's video footage, and money issues," Monica explained.
Borin raised an eyebrow. "So, what exactly was the point of seeing her there? Please specify."
Monica glanced at her phone,
"About money, I already mentioned it!"
"We already checked your phone. The full context is there, but the deleted part was on Saroath's phone. Did you hide or delete any other texts?"
"No, I didn't," Monica answered quickly.
The officer continued. "The text before she sent, 'Don't hurt my son, you bitch,' were you warning her about YoungDara's actions?"
"Yes," Monica confirmed, her voice steady despite the tension.
In the chat, Monica had sent before this message:
(Synchronization log or loss the context-2 reveal)
"Look after Dara and stop him from getting involved with that guy. What if he threatens him, or worse?"
Saroath replied, "They've already broken up."
Monica quickly responded, "Okay, but if it happens again, I won't hesitate to kick him out. I won't let this kind of behavior destroy the reputation dad has built. Don't let your stupid love for him ruin everything."
Saroath's reply came quickly, "What will you do?"
Monica's words were firm, "Whatever it takes."
Then, Saroath's last message arrived, full of anger: "Don't hurt my son, you bitch."
"It's you, you're fooling him around, and always blaming others."
"You seem overly confident, Monica... Let's see how far you can go..."
And just before the conversation ended, Saroath added: "You're threatening me!"
(Synchronization log or loss the context-1 reveal)
Saroath's message came sharp and cold: "I always did. Just don't harm us. But you're planning to get rid of us anyway, aren't you? I'm sure your greed will follow you to the grave, Monica."
Monica's response was immediate, brimming with fury: "You're crossing the line! How dare you accuse me like this? I won't let it slide!"
Saroath fired back, relentlessly: "Then what? Will you kill us?"
A pause. Then came Monica's chilling reply: "I don't know."
"You cold-blooded killer!"
"You destroyed him with your cheap tricks," Saroath's message came through, sharp and biting. "Set up cameras illegally and spread it all over social media."
Monica shot back, defensive and indignant: "Stop it. Without evidence, I can sue you for defamation."
Saroath's reply was swift, cutting through the tension like a blade: "So, who did it then?"
The police carefully reviewed the text messages and then turned their attention to Monica.
She asked, her voice filled with concern, "Does this kind of text make me a suspect?"
The officer Borin answered, his tone neutral,
"This kind of text doesn't confirm anything yet, but it's a crucial lead," the officer explained.
"Yes," Monica responded, her voice steady.
"Now, explain what happened the day you went to meet her, all the way until you both went home separately," the officer demanded.
Monica took a breath before answering. "After I got a call from her the night before, I went to the office to clear some tasks. Then, I headed to the province to see her after having lunch with Marina at a restaurant. We decided to meet at a market in her hometown, and I arrived around 2 p.m. We talked in the car, and I headed back home around half past 3."
"Why didn't both of you just talk on the phone like before? Why meet in person?" the police officer asked.
"Because we've been arguing a lot lately, and we couldn't have a proper conversation," Monica replied, her voice tight. "And there was one more thing—I wanted to check on the construction she always said she was spending money on."
"Who can we check for your alibi, besides your family? Since it took around an hour for you to drive back to the city..." the officer asked, his gaze fixed on Monica.
"I drove straight home," Monica replied firmly. "I doubt anyone can confirm that unless you check the public cameras."
The officer nodded, his tone calm but resolute. "We've already reviewed some of it, but we'll dig deeper."
"How about the camera in my house, or and around there?" Monica asked, her voice steady.
"It didn't work that day," the officer responded. "Not before, and not after either."
"Oh," Monica muttered, her expression unreadable.
"So coincidental, right?" the officer remarked, a hint of skepticism in his voice.
Monica remained silent, not showing any reaction.
Borin paused before pressing further, his eyes sharp. The officer studied her for a moment. "Do you have anything else to add?"
Monica shook her head. "No, sir."
Now, let's take a look at the video footage from your car."
Monica nodded. "Yes."
***