CHAPTER 2: THE GIRL WHO SHOULD NOT HAVE BEEN THERE
Melody Park should not have stepped forward.
Every instinct screamed at her to stay behind the guards, stay invisible, stay alive.
But the boy in the corner—
was not a threat.
He was drowning.
“Noise… noise… noise…”
His voice cracked through the shattered room like glass dragged across stone.
One of the guards shifted.
“Don’t move closer,” he warned Melody sharply.
But she wasn’t looking at him anymore.
She was looking at the boy.
His hands were pressed so tightly over his ears that his knuckles had gone white.
His entire body trembled like he was trying to escape something no one else could see.
Melody whispered without thinking:
“He’s overwhelmed.”
The guard stared at her.
“That’s not your concern.”
Another crash echoed from the hallway.
A man’s voice barked orders.
“Hold him down if you have to!”
The boy screamed louder.
Melody flinched.
Then—
she did something that made every guard in the room tense instantly.
She stepped forward.
One step.
Then another.
“Miss—STOP,” the female guard snapped, reaching for her arm.
But Melody lifted her hand slightly.
Not defiant.
Not challenging.
Just… asking for space.
“Don’t touch him,” Melody said softly.
The guard frowned.
“You don’t understand what he is.”
Melody didn’t look away from the boy.
“I understand enough.”
The room went silent.
Even the chaos in the hallway seemed to pause for a fraction of a second.
A tall man stepped into view.
Black suit.
Cold eyes.
Authority like a blade.
The air shifted instantly.
Everyone reacted to him.
Except Melody.
He looked at her like she was a mistake in the system.
“Who let her in here?” he asked flatly.
No one answered immediately.
Because no one wanted to be the one who had.
The female guard finally spoke.
“She’s a delivery driver.”
A pause.
“She… was in the wrong place.”
The man’s gaze shifted to Melody.
Then to the food bags in her hands.
Then back to the boy.
“Get her out,” he ordered.
Melody swallowed.
But she didn’t move.
Because the boy had stopped screaming.
Not fully.
But slightly.
His head tilted.
Just barely.
As if something about her voice had cut through the noise.
Melody spoke again, quieter:
“Hey…”
The boy flinched.
But didn’t run.
That alone changed something in the room.
The man narrowed his eyes.
“That’s impossible.”
Melody blinked.
“What is?”
A guard whispered behind her:
“He doesn’t respond to anyone.”
The man stepped closer.
“You should leave,” he said to Melody.
His voice was controlled.
But tight.
“He is not safe.”
Melody looked at the boy again.
“I don’t think he’s dangerous,” she said.
A sharp laugh came from one of the guards.
“You’re standing in a mafia estate during a meltdown and you think he’s not dangerous?”
Melody didn’t answer that.
Instead, she slowly crouched.
The guards instantly tensed.
The man raised a hand slightly.
“Let her,” he said suddenly.
Everyone froze.
Even the guards.
Even Melody.
The man studied her.
Like he was calculating risk.
Or curiosity.
Or something more dangerous than both.
“Three seconds,” he said.
“If she makes it worse, remove her.”
Melody nodded once.
Then turned back to the boy.
She lowered her voice.
“No noise,” she said gently.
The boy trembled.
“Too loud,” he whispered.
Melody nodded.
“I know.”
A pause.
Then she did something no one expected.
She sat down.
Not close.
Not far.
Just… present.
On the shattered floor.
Among broken glass and chaos.
And she began to speak softly.
Not to fix him.
Not to correct him.
Just to anchor him.
“It’s raining outside,” she said quietly.
The boy paused.
“…Rain.”
Melody nodded.
“Yes. It’s loud too, right?”
He hesitated.
Then nodded slightly.
Melody continued:
“But rain is just water falling. It doesn’t mean danger.”
The boy’s breathing slowed just a fraction.
The guards exchanged confused glances.
The man in the black suit watched without blinking.
Melody picked up a small cushion from the floor and placed it gently beside her.
“No pressure,” she said softly.
The boy’s eyes flickered open slightly.
Melody didn’t move closer.
Didn’t push.
Didn’t demand.
Just stayed.
May you like
And for the first time—
he didn’t scream.
