The sound of running water from Monica's bathroom echoed faintly in the background as Visak showered.
Meanwhile, in the study room, Monica sat with her father, Heng, and Dalin, her stepmom. The air was tense, the weight of unspoken truths hanging heavy between them.
"Tell me everything you've done with Uncle Rith so far, Dad," Monica demanded, her voice firm but laced with urgency. "We need to clear this up as soon as possible."
Heng sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping under the invisible burden he carried. After a moment, he met her gaze.
"Since... after her seventh-day ceremony," he began, his voice low and hesitant.
Dalin tried to recall that day, her mind grappling for clarity. Heng's voice cut through the silence.
"He said he saw you in the afternoon before Saraoth died," Heng continued, his tone uneasy. "I feared you were involved, so I had him stay quiet, gave him some money, and took her things. I thought that was the end of it."
Monica and Dalin exchanged a glance, both surprised, but remained silent, listening intently.
"But later, he said the police reopened the case. They found evidence that it was murder, not suicide. I suggested he work with Chief Vann and the younger officers, keep asking around the villagers…"
Monica's voice trembled with disbelief. "So just because Uncle Rith told you he saw me, you believed I killed her? Without any other solid evidence?"
Dalin felt her breath catch, but Monica pressed on. "Not just him, Dad! A lot of people saw me. I went to see her openly, no secrets."
Heng's expression faltered. "I didn't know you visited her in that hometown."
Monica exhaled sharply. "Fine."
Dalin opened her mouth, but the words hesitated, caught between the truth and the unsaid.
"So, you think Rith had more to do with this than just seeing you? What if he manipulated Heng... all for money?"
Heng spoke slowly, his voice strained. "The police have reopened the case, but there's no evidence to prove she was murdered. It could've been something else that injured her hands and feet. We don't know."
Monica remained silent, her thoughts unreadable.
Dalin's gaze sharpened. "If she was really sure it was suicide, why did you ask Rith to help stop the case?"
"That was my mistake! I was too worried!" Heng's voice cracked.
Monica's face tightened. "Dad thought I killed her. Aunt, now please... don't bring it up again."
"But this is a huge issue," Dalin pressed, her voice low and urgent. "Your dad could face any charge, unless it really was a suicide. That might lift some of the burden."
"She was murdered!" Monica's voice rang out, sharp and certain.
Heng and Dalin were taken aback, their faces clouded with shock.
"We can't deny the truth," Monica continued, her tone growing pensive. "But I wonder... Did he see me? He must've seen the real killer too. Why hasn't he said anything? Maybe the real killer is someone even more dangerous than I am."
Both Heng and Dalin were left speechless.
"Are you saying someone used Sarith to set you up?" Dalin asked, her voice low. She implied that a tall and thin man could be used as a pawn to frame Monica.
"Then who would have a grudge against Saroath and want her dead?" Dalin pressed, but neither Heng nor Monica had an answer.
"Saroath had another sibling," Heng began, his voice measured, "but he lives in Battambang province. And for the record, he hates his sister because she was with me."
"That doesn't mean he'd kill his own sister!" Dalin protested, her tone sharp with disbelief.
"I didn't say he did," Heng replied calmly. "I just thought you should know. I saw him on the seventh day too, but we didn't speak."
Monica sat in silence, her expression unreadable, as the weight of the conversation hung in the air.
Nearby, Visak stood silent, his face unreadable, his piercing eyes scanning the room with a chilling, detached air.
***
Visak drove them to the HBH office, the car slowing as they approached the entrance, where a crowd of journalists had already gathered. He parked at a distance, turning to face the women in the back seat.
"Now, what are you going to do?" he asked.
Dalin seemed unsure about confronting the reporters, while Monica took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts.
"We should head back and let the lawyer handle this," Visak suggested.
"No," Monica replied, her voice firm. "I'll go in. Aunt Dalin, it's okay if you stay here or head home."
"Can you handle it? Can be in spotlight?" Dalin asked, "Can you handle it? Can you be in the spotlight?" Dalin asked, concern reflected in her eyes.
Monica nodded, determination in her gaze. "I have to. Get a driver or someone to take you home. Take care of Dad. I need you to stay with him for now, so far."
Dalin pressed her phone to call a driver.
"Visak, wait here with Aunt Da. I'll go now."
Sak raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure you can handle all of them?"
Just then, Oudom emerged, recognizing them immediately. Monica, reassured by his presence, smiled. "I'll go with Uncle Oudom. You two stay here."
"Okay." said Visak.
Monica climbed into the car, and Oudom followed her, his gaze scanning the crowd.
"Are you fully recovered?" he asked.
"Yes!" she replied, with a nod.
"Good. But there are a lot of reporters around."
"Stay calm," Monica said, her voice steady. "We'll go now."
"You really can?" Oudom s as follow behind.
***
As Monica arrived at the building, a swarm of journalists descended upon her, bombarding her with a flurry of questions. Their voices overlapped, each one eager to get a response about her chat with Saroath and the growing controversy surrounding Mr. Heng.
"Why did you come to her hometown after threatening her?" a journalist pressed.
"Did your father, Mr. Bunheng, use his wealth to cover up the case for you?" another reporter followed.
"Will he find someone to take the fall for you as the killer?" a female journalist added. The questions came in a flood.
"What do you mean by that?" Monica shot back, her voice sharp.
"Is it possible?" a male journalist interjected, his tone probing.
"Don't twist the question if you want an answer from me," the CEO pressed, her words firm and unyielding.
The atmosphere went silent, tension rippling through the air as everyone seemed momentarily taken aback.
"So, did your father really use money to cover up the truth?" someone asked from the back.
"Did you join hands with him too?" another voice chimed in.
Monica's gaze swept across the room, her composure unwavering. "If you're just going to fire questions like that, how can I respond? I won't answer anything," she replied coolly, her calm tone cutting through the chaos.
A male journalist's voice cut through the tension. "Then answer us this: Did Kong Saroath commit suicide, or was she murdered?"
Monica's voice was firm, unwavering. "She did not commit suicide."
A shocked silence fell over the space. "How can you be so sure?"
"This is still under investigation, so I can't reveal much," Monica said, her tone steady. "But just know this—she did not kill herself. The last time I saw her, it wasn't like what others have tried to make you believe."
"What about your dad's voice leaking?" A reporter asked.
"He was manipulated!"
Khun, the delivery man who had been present, quietly slipped away after hearing the revelation. At home, Dara and Sethya sat in stunned silence, their eyes fixed on the live broadcast.
"She admitted it—she's not a killer! Dara!" Seth gasped. Dara remained speechless, processing the unexpected turn of events.
At his station, Visal watched the broadcast, his expression unreadable, his gaze resolute.
In her office, Nida, too, was captivated by the footage, mesmerized by Monica's commanding presence.
***
After sending Dalin home, Visak gripped the wheel, his foot pressing harder on the gas. His mind churned with discontent, an unsettling restlessness gnawing at him.
He sped down the road, heading toward a destination he'd already decided on, urgency driving his every move.
Monica stepped into her office, the familiar surroundings offering little comfort after her two-week absence. She took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves, and sank into her chair. Just as she settled, Oudom entered with a warm smile.
"Oh! Uncle!" she exclaimed.
They both made their way to the sofa, settling down.
"I'm so happy to see you here again, my girl!" Oudom said, his eyes lighting up.
Monica returned the smile. "You really showed up just when I needed you. I have something for you, too."
"Hehe!" Oudom chuckled, clearly pleased.
"So…?" Monica began, her tone shifting slightly.
"I have some updates for you."
"Oh, let's chat then," The CEO replied, eager to hear what he had to say.
"By the way, you haven't met our new staff, have you? Bunrong and Kakaka?"
"You hired both of them?"
"Madam Lin insisted."
"I see..."
"But after the opening ceremony, which Dalin is handling, you'll still take care of this job?"
"I'm thinking about it..."
"Are you worried about the case? Afraid it might be tough?"
"It won't be. Trust me, Uncle. A shameless killer like him will soon be dealt with."
"I nearly lost my mind, seeing the news about you and that woman while you were in the hospital. I can't believe you came back with such strength, my lovely girl! And you mom told me in the morning that…"
"What was that...?" Monica asked, her tone sharp with curiosity.
"You're reckless!" Oudom shot back, though his grin softened the jab.
"You always take her side when I argue with her!" Monica protested, crossing her arms.
"Of course I do—she's my cousin, and you're just my great-niece," Oudom teased with a playful smirk.
Monica chuckled, shaking her head. "You're funny."
Oudom let out a low laugh, but his eyes held a flicker of unease, betraying a deeper thought.
"And have you found me a secretary yet?"
Oudom's voice carried a mix of urgency and satisfaction.
"Oh, oh! God, I've gone through some CVs, interviewed a few candidates, and narrowed it down to three women for your final interview. I figured you'd need someone to help with all the work you're handling—especially with Dalin getting older and seeming to lose her drive."
Monica sighed, her tone tinged with agreement. "Yes, she is slowing down. But did Marina come in to help her?"
Oudom chuckled, a bit of disbelief in his voice. "That little girl is harder to handle than you, Monic."
Monica raised an eyebrow. "Really?"
"She's got a wild, reckless, arrogant attitude," Oudom said, shaking his head.
Monica's lips twitched in exasperation. "Oh my... that kid!"
"She said full time work was her enemy"
"Seriously! All she was doing was just playing with her digital painting…"
"She said she is going to work on some picture books with her friend…"
"Yes. But she must learn to work here too by the time being. I'll have a word with her."
"Leave her be," Oudom quickly interjected.
"Just bring me the CVs for the three candidates." said Monica
Oudom nodded. "Yes, and one of them is Bunrong's friend."
Monica paused, her surprise evident. She remembered Bunrong—Dara's friend. "Oh...Let me see."
Oudom displayed the CV on his phone, handing it over to the CEO. The name on the screen caught her attention.
"Dy Leakena," Oudom remarked. "She graduated in Business Management and is highly suitable for the position."
Monica felt a stir of unease, yet curiosity tugged at her. The coincidence was too striking to ignore.