At Sinir International Hospital, in the VIP wardroom, Be finished her shower and changed out of her bloody clothes into something clean.

    She stepped out of the bathroom and found Tristan waiting for her in the living room. Her movement paused, and all the pain she had momentarily escaped swallowed her again.

    Be approached him, trying to appear casual as if nothing had happened. However, her efforts failed; Tristan could see the sorrow reflected in her eyes.

    Tristan felt sorry for her but chose not to pry into the details of the incident. He decided to wait for her to share when she was ready.

    There was an urgent matter he needed to address now. Tristan stood up from his seat and approached her.

    "Dear, let’s eat first. I heard from Leo that you haven’t had anything to eat yet." He took her hand and led her to the dining table. "They just served this for us. Let’s eat."

    Be didn’t refuse him. Even though shecked an appetite, she knew she needed to eat, or she might copse soon.

    However, after only half of the food she had eaten, Be suddenly felt like she wanted to vomit, remembering the strange and scary feeling she had been harboring in her heart. The sense of satisfaction in killing Andreas Corby didn’t feel right because now she felt like she was a sinner and deserved to be punished.

    She tried hard to suppress this feeling, telling herself, ’You are not a murder, but you just tried to protect yourself...’ but failed.

    That feeling kept appearing to torture her.

    Silently sighing, she put her cutlery on the te and nced at Tristan.

    Be’s worried gaze was enough to attract Tristan’s attention. He also stopped eating and observed her for a while before asking, "Do you feel ufortable somewhere? Do you want to lie on the bed?" he offered.

    She shook her head and met his gaze.

    "Tristan, why do I feel like a murderer, a sinner? Do the police need me toe to their office? What happens to our children if they find out their mother killed someone?"

    Her words trembled as she expressed all the questions that were now filling her mind, torturing her inside.

    When Be saw the shock in Tristan’s gaze, it hurt her. She lowered her eyes and looked at another ce, clenching her fist tightly.

    Tristan ced his hand on her back, rubbing it gently. "Of course, you are not. That person deserved it. He took people’s lives and injured so many of you. What you did was just an attempt to protect yourself. You are not a sinner..."

    Be knew that, but even after hearing Tristan’s words, her inner self still med herself, frightened of her sin.

    "I took someone else’s life. I killed someone. I am a murderer..." Her voice trembled, and she still couldn’t bring herself to meet Tristan’s gaze.

    Tristan was stunned. He hadpletely forgotten that his wife might also need a psychologist to get through this. After all, this was her first kill.

    He didn’t want his wife to bear the burden of her suffering alone. He made her chair face him. He took her hands and rubbed them gently.

    "Can you see my eyes?" Tristan gently asked.

    Be slowly lifted her head.

    "My wife, you are not defined by your thoughts. You are not ending someone’s life; rather, you are aiding in God’s punishment of that person to prevent him from taking another innocent life."

    He added, "Don’t worry about anything else—the police won’t ask you toe to their office; someone will handle that. They wille to you if they need to ask you something."

    Be listened quietly as Tristan exined, and she gradually felt her mind lifting from the shadows; the dark smoke that once clouded her thoughts began to dissipate.

    "And our child? They will be proud of you. No one will judge you or speak about your thoughts or fears. You are their mother, their hero. And not just their hero, you are a hero to others too because you have helped others... right?" Tristan smiled.

    A barely noticed smile appeared on Be’s lips.

    "Please, you might have shot someone, but that’s because you have to stop him from killing others. Be confident in yourself. You are not what you think: a killer. You are my brave and kind wife, Arabe Donovan." He finished, gently squeezing her hand before pulling her into a hug.

    "Thank you, Tristan..." Be whispered. She needed to hear those words from him, and now she was starting to feel better.

    "Alright, continue your lunch. You want to see Jack and the others, right?" Tristan asked as he released her from his embrace.

    Seeing his wife nod quickly, he noticed that her look was no longer filled with confusion and fear. He felt relieved.

    ***

    Not long after, Tristan and Be arrived in front of the surgery room—a small lounge where the patient’s family could wait.

    Be noticed Leo and Dana already there, sitting on the couch with their backs turned to her.

    Some of Tristan’s people in the corner appeared to be discussing something serious—no one noticed their presence.

    She approached Leo and Dana, trying to maintain herposure, but her trembling hand betrayed her. Clenching her fists tightly, she greeted them, "Leo, Dana..."

    They both looked in her direction, surprised. "Be, I’m d you finally made it," Leo said, standing up to face her.

    Leo added, "I wanted to visit your room but was afraid to leave this ce; I worried that the doctor would look for Jack and Sam’s family." He felt relieved to see she hadn’t been injured after that man, Andreas Corby, had tried to kill them all.

    "It’s fine. I also nned toe here, but I had to shower first. You know there was blood all over me, right?" Be said with a faint smile as she nced at Dana. Her smile vanished when she saw Dana’s appearance.

    Worried about Dana’s pregnancy, Be turned her gaze back to Leo. "You need to care and pay more attention to your wife. She doesn’t look well, Leo."