138 Chapter 138 : Revealed

"Calm down, Ava," Farah urged, "You're not thinking clearly....." 

Ava cut her off, "I will know the truth, no matter what. I can't stay here, trapped in this web of doubt and paranoia. And I won't let these doubts and suspicions drive me crazy."

With a sigh of resignation, Farah offered Ava support. "Alright," she conceded, "but I'm coming with you."

Leaving their resort under the cloak of the newly descended darkness, they navigated the wooden bridges leading to Professors' accommodation. 

Reaching the Professor's doorstep, Farah voiced her concern. "Professor Syed isn't staying alone. There's likely another professors with him. What will we tell them!"

Ava held out her hand. "Give me your phone." 

Farah handed her the phone and Ava dialed Professor Syed's number.

"I'm in front of your resort," Ava stated, "Can we come in?"

Professor Syed's voice crackled through the phone. "We? Are you with Farah?"

"Yes," she confirmed.

A brief pause followed, then Professor Syed's response came, "Come inside. The other professors are out for dinner. The door is open."

Pushing open the heavy wooden door, Ava and Farah stepped into the living area. Professor Syed sat alone, watching television, his face obscured by the light of the bulb. He gestured towards the couch, but Ava remained standing.

"Professor," Ava began, "I want answers. What you told me about Ibrahim... is it true? Did he really kill his father? I want to know the truth."

Professor Syed's eyes, glinting behind his glasses, darted from her to Farah, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "Which truth are you seeking, Child? Are you sure you can handle it?"

Farah clenched her fists at her sides. She knew why Prof. Syed was looking at her. He could reveal her secret, the truth about what she had done to Jessica, at any moment. A truth she wanted to keep hidden from Ava forever.

Oblivious to the silent exchange, Ava repeated her demand, "I want the truth about Ibrahim. Tell me everything you know."

Prof. Syed's smirk turned into a smile, "Then sit down." He gestured again, "Do you remember when Adam died. In the fire at The Crimson Lounge?"

Ava reluctantly took a seat on the couch, Farah doing the same. 

Ava murmured, "Yes, I remember. May he rest in peace."

"And do you know how many people died in that fire, Ava?" Professor Syed continued, his voice dropping a notch lower.

Ava tried to recall from the news, "Around... sixty people? But it's not related to Ibrahim."

"Isn't it, Ava?" Prof. Syed countered, his voice dripping with false sympathy. "The Crimson Lounge was known for its high maintenance. Do you honestly believe a fire could have erupted in the kitchen without someone... deliberately setting it?"

Ava felt frozen, rooted to the spot. Her breath hitched, caught in her throat. Every muscle in her body tensed, as if bracing for a blow. Even blinking seemed like an insurmountable effort. Her mind screamed in denial, a desperate plea echoing in the chambers of her heart – Please God, not Ibrahim, please.

Professor Syed's cruel smile stretched across his face as he turned his attention to the television, fiddling with the remote, "Look closely, Ava."

The screen flickered, then came alive with a slideshow.The slideshow began, each frame a gruesome snapshot of the Crimson Lounge fire's aftermath. Ava felt a scream rise in her throat, but it died unspoken.

The pictures were more than just disturbing; they were an assault on her senses. Bodies, twisted and unrecognizable, lay scattered across the screen. Some were frozen in poses of agony, their faces contorted in screams that were never uttered. Others were slumped lifelessly. 

 Some faces were completely unrecognizable, melted by the intense heat. The once-smooth skin replaced by a horrifying network of cracked and brittle flesh. Burnt flesh hung from their exposed bones. Limbs, once strong and agile, were now blackened and brittle, the fingers twisted and deformed. 

The worst part, the part that made Ava's stomach churn and her vision blur, were the eyes. Some were wide open, vacant and staring, the heat of the fire having melted their lids. Others were closed tight, as if trying to shut out the horror of their final moments. The smell of smoke and burnt flesh seemed to emanate from the screen, filling the room with a suffocating stench.

Farah let out an angry cry. "What are you showing us? You have no right to torment her like this!"

"Just the truth," he replied coolly. "Isn't that what Ava wanted to see? The truth." 

Ava, her gaze fixed on the television screen, remained eerily composed. Her eyes, though filled with a dawning horror, remained dry. In a voice barely above a whisper, she asked, "Did Ibrahim do this?"

Professor Syed offered a curt nod. "He intended to kill Adam, Ava just because Adam asked you for a coffee date And in his pursuit of vengeance, sixty innocent lives were tragically lost. You, Mrs. Ava Lim Rahman, are living with a criminal in a cage which is made of gold." 

He paused, his gaze raking over Ava's frozen form. "You don't even know the truth about your scholarship?"

Ava's brow furrowed, a deep crease forming between her eyes. Switching off the TV, Prof. Syed told, "You received the scholarship, Child. But it was rejected from you."

Ava's frown deepened, confusion clouding her eyes. "Rejected? Wh...What? I was waiting for it, why would I reject it? I never did it."

Professor Syed, his eyes glinting with a cruel amusement, rose and disappeared into another room. He returned moments later, holding a document in his hand.

"Read this," he said, extending the paper towards her.

Ava's hands trembled as she took the letter, her fingers tracing the cold, hard edges. With a deep breath, she unfolded it, her eyes scanning the words printed on the crisp white paper. She scanned the words, her eyes widening with each sentence.

The letter, supposedly written by her, stated her desire to remain in Kuala Lumpur and pursue her graduation there and forego the scholarship to Manchester, a place she had dreamt of studying in for years. It even had a signature at the bottom, a perfect replica of her own. 

But This wasn't her handwriting. She had never written such a letter, never dreamt of abandoning her Manchester dreams. It was impossible that she would reject the scholarship, the opportunity she had strived so hard for. It was like someone had ripped a page from her life, rewritten it with a cruel twist.

Memories flooded back. Her mind raced back, recalling the countless hours spent in Ibrahim's study room, his passionate lectures on architecture, the way he patiently answered her questions. How could he, the man who had nurtured her dreams, possibly destroy them with his own hands?

"Someone else submitted this letter," Ava murmured, her voice gaining conviction. "Ibrahim wouldn't do this to me. He could do anything but couldn't betray me like."

Profm Syed's voice dripped with mock sympathy, "Your naivety is amusing, Ava. A man capable of killing his own father is capable of anything."

Farah, outraged, snatched the letter from Ava's hand. "How can you claim Ibrahim did this? Do you have proof? Anyone could've submitted this!"

Professor Syed pulled out his phone and brandished it towards Ava. "See for yourself," he smirked, playing a CCTV clip.

The footage showed their university campus, specifically the administrative office. A familiar figure, Faisal approached a staff member and handed them an envelope.

Ava's heart lurched. Faisal? The one who called her 'sister'? He had done this without a second thought, without considering her dreams! 

As if to add insult to injury, the date displayed in the corner of the video sent shivers down her spine. It was the same day Ibrahim had proposed, the day her feelings for him had begun to shift from hatred to affection. The very day her life had taken a turn towards "happiness", it had been built on a foundation of lies.

The door creaked open, revealing Professor Rahat, one of their professors. "Oh, Ava, Farah," he greeted, surprised to see them there.

Professor Syed smoothly interjected, "They just dropped by for a quick chat."

Ava forced a smile. "Thank you, sir," she said. "We'll be leaving now."

Professor Syed watched them depart, a cruel satisfaction twisting his features. Hurting Ava, Ibrahim's precious woman, was a twisted reward. He had successfully planted the seeds of doubt, and now, he would watch them bloom into a garden of despair.

Ava's legs felt like lead. Farah reached out and grasped her hand, preventing a stumble on the wooden bridge. Ava stopped, leaning against the railing, gazing out at the dark Andaman Sea. Though the darkness held a strange haunting beauty, the wind whipping her hair into a frenzy.

Then, a laugh. Not a joyous one, but a hollow, brittle sound that echoed across the waves. It surprised even Farah, who had expected tears, anger, anything but this chilling laughter.

Today, not a single tear had escaped Ava's eyes. No sobs wracked her thin frame, no choked gasps escaped her lips. Her pain had transcended the theatrics of tears. Ibrahim's betrayal had shattered her so completely that emotions seemed to have vanished.

Her mind flickered through scenes of their past. The night they watched fireworks, her hopeful plea to Ibrahim to pray for her scholarship, followed by the surrender of her virginity to him at the same night. Had Ibrahim felt no guilt, no pang of conscience, weaving lies while claiming her innocence? Didn't it bother him a bit?

Before his proposal, she had built walls, pushed him away. But then, the proposal, the change. A cruel coincidence, wasn't it? Faisal submitting the rejection letter in the morning, Ibrahim's proposal that same evening. Ava laughed again, a bitter, broken sound.

How many times had she tried to resist, reminding herself never to fall in love with the man who had forced her in marriage? Yet, brick by brick, they crumbled under the relentless siege of his affection, his promises, his carefully crafted facade. And Ava offered him her trust, her love, her virginity – only to have it all shattered in an instant.

Farah offered a comforting hand, "Cry, Ava. Let it out."

Ava smiled, "Tears aren't always the language of pain. Sometimes, the deepest wounds hide behind the brightest smiles."

"You know I like Ibrahim's brown eyes so much," she whispered, "they say you can read a person's truth in their eyes. But I never could with Ibrahim. His eyes... they are like bottomless wells, dark and mysterious. I drowned in them, never realizing the lies they held."

"Let's go inside," Farah urged gently. "Rest for sometime."

But Ava shook her head, "No rest tonight, Farah. Tonight, I make a decision."

Then Farah's phone vibrated, shattering the silence. It's was Ibrahim's call.....