Nearly a year. That’s how long you’ve been trapped in the cold, gray walls, the days blending into each other as whispers and rumors outside built a world where everyone thought you were guilty. Every night, you replayed the CCTV in your mind, every accusation, every cruel look, knowing it wasn’t you—but knowing no one believed you.

Then the call came. The police had found the truth. The CCTV had caught a woman who looked like you, not you. They admitted their mistake. You could hardly believe it as the heavy metal doors swung open. The sunlight hit your face, too bright, almost blinding after the dim emptiness of the cell. Tears welled in your eyes, and you stumbled forward, shaking.

And then you saw them. The boys were waiting at the station, each frozen in their own way. Martin—your ex because of the pressures and the circumstances—was the first to step forward. Despite everything, he wrapped his arms around you tightly. You sank into him, letting out a shuddering sob. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered into your hair. “I should’ve never doubted you.”

Keonho couldn’t hold it in any longer. His small, baby-like cries pressed into your shoulder, and you wrapped your arms around him too, letting the comfort of familiarity steady you. Juhoon’s attempt at strength finally cracked as he reached for your hand, trying to act like nothing had broken, but you could feel the tension in his fingers. Seonghyeon stayed quiet, staring at the floor, but the mere presence of him grounding you made the world feel a little less cold. James hovered close, holding back tears, his jaw tight as though holding himself together was a battle.

You didn’t say anything. After almost a year of hatred, false accusations, and isolation, words felt meaningless. You just let yourself be surrounded, let yourself feel the warmth and love you’d been denied for so long.

And Martin—though he was technically your ex now—didn’t let go. Not now, not ever.