Mochi’s pulse quickened as she lowered the phone, Elena’s warning echoing sharply in her ears. Noah. It had to be Noah. And that girl—the girl who’d clung to him that night at the KTV, the one who looked disturbingly similar to herself. Her name eluded Mochi, though her face remained vividly clear, the memory laced with bitter jealousy.
She moved quickly, stuffing her belongings haphazardly into her bag. Her first instinct was escape—through the bathroom window, the route she’d always planned. She hurried towards it, reaching out to unlatch the frame, then hesitated. Noah knew her habits too well. He would be expecting this. He might already be there, lurking, waiting silently in the shadows.
Mochi paused, heart racing as she recalculated. Noah usually operated alone; he hated complications. If he’d brought anyone, it would be the girl—a fragile, harmless thing she’d easily outmaneuver. That meant Noah himself was probably covering the back window, anticipating her escape. The girl was likely positioned at the front—a weaker threat by far.
She drew a slow breath, steadying herself. She could handle one trembling little girl.
Decision made, Mochi closed the bathroom window softly, then carefully peered through the front curtains, scanning quickly. Nothing out of the ordinary. Quietly, she edged open the motel door and stepped out, moving confidently forward.
She barely took two steps before the cold, unmistakable press of metal dug sharply into her abdomen, halting her instantly. Her breath caught, a shiver of shock running through her body as she lifted her gaze slowly, disbelief tightening her chest.
It was the girl. But she was different now—gone was the frightened expression, replaced instead with an icy calm, eyes hard and utterly unrecognizable from the scared victim she’d seen that night at the KTV. The girl leaned in closer, the gun positioned expertly, invisible to any casual observer who might glance their way. To anyone else, they’d simply appear to be two women sharing quiet confidences.
The girl’s lips curved into a slow, chilling smile, her voice deceptively soft, carrying the edge of steel beneath.
“Hey sis, why don’t we chat a little inside first?”
*****
Vivian kept the gun pressed tightly into Mochi’s abdomen, anger coiling dangerously inside her. Images flashed vividly through her mind—Mochi’s cold smirk as she’d left her trapped with Sammy, his repulsive hands touching her. Each memory unlocked something icy and unforgiving within her.
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Mochi backed slowly into the motel room, her eyes wide with fear.
“L-look, I’m sorry about what happened, okay?” Mochi stammered nervously, her voice trembling. “It was messed up. B-but you’re okay now, yeah? No harm done.”
“No harm done?” Vivian snapped, incredulous rage sharpening her voice. “Are you insane—”
Without warning, Mochi’s hand shot out, knocking the gun from Vivian’s untrained grip. Before Vivian could react, the cold edge of a knife pressed firmly against her throat. Mochi grinned victoriously, regaining confidence.
“Oh honey,” Mochi taunted softly, eyes glittering. “You don’t even know how to hold a gun properly, and you want to play with me?” The blade pressed closer, threatening.
Vivian froze, adrenaline surging through her veins. In that moment, clarity sliced sharply through her fear. Mochi was her only real link to Serena’s disappearance—she could not afford to lose her now.
Ignoring the cold bite of metal against her throat, Vivian reached up and grabbed the blade directly with her bare hand. Pain exploded instantly, sharp and deep as the knife sliced through her palm and fingers, but she refused to let go, gripping it tighter to prevent Mochi from pushing deeper.
Mochi’s eyes widened in shock, stunned by Vivian’s reckless determination. Vivian forced herself forward slightly, staring fiercely into Mochi’s startled face, her pupils dark and dilated.
“Oh honey,” she echoed mockingly, voice low and dangerous, “I’m not playing.”
Before Mochi could recover, Vivian shoved Mochi’s arm sideways with all the strength she could muster, forcing it roughly against the wooden door frame. Mochi gasped sharply in pain, her wrist jolted, releasing the knife from her grip.
Not hesitating, Vivian threw herself at Mochi, clumsily tackling her to the ground. They hit the floor in a chaotic heap, Vivian landing roughly atop Mochi, gasping for breath, heart racing. Panic and fury drove Vivian as she pressed her uninjured forearm against Mochi’s throat, pinning her down.
Mochi bucked and twisted violently beneath her, struggling to regain the upper hand, but Vivian’s desperation lent her strength. Blood dripped freely from Vivian’s injured hand, which now shook as she pressed it firmly to keep the fallen knife out of Mochi’s reach.
The motel room door swung open quietly, revealing Noah standing silently in the doorway. Mochi opened her mouth to scream, but Vivian reacted instinctively, grabbing a fistful of Mochi’s hair with her uninjured hand and slamming her head forcefully against the floor, muffling the sound instantly.
In a swift, decisive movement, Noah strode forward and seized Mochi, delivering one precise punch that rendered her unconscious.
Vivian rolled off Mochi, gasping shakily, eyes wide with adrenaline and shock. Her injured hand was still clenched tightly around the knife’s blade, blood steadily seeping from her deep wound, unable to release it without unbearable pain.
Noah knelt swiftly at Vivian’s side, his expression aghast. “Viv, I told you not to confront her alone.”
Vivian winced, managing a weak, breathless grin despite the pain. “You said don’t confront her alone if something doesn’t feel right. It felt right—” Another wave of pain cut her off, and she closed her eyes briefly against the dizziness.
Noah stared at her, torn between concern, irritation, and a deep, undeniable reverence. “You’re insane,” he breathed softly, but it sounded strangely like admiration.
Vivian ignored him, nodding towards Mochi’s unconscious form. “What do we do with that?”
Noah quickly snapped back to practicality, his voice firm again. “I know a place nearby. Let’s get her into the car, then we need to look at that hand of yours.”