Mila is back to her old self, for the most part.

Something's different about her though, like she flipped a switch that gives her this push of confidence and self-assurance, even if it's just a minor one. But it's there, visibly, audibly, physically. She even moves differently, her posture is a little more upright, her movements not as fragile and uncertain as before.

When she says she wants to tell me about her dad, it becomes obvious something happened in the days we didn't talk to each other that made her open up to me.

I can't deny that I fucking love that. I want to be there for her whenever she needs me. She could ask me for anything; I'd buy every goddamn peanut butter cup in this country if that's what she wanted. Because she pulled me in, stole my heart, and locked it in the biggest damn safe in existence. I know I won't be getting it back. I don't want to.

"Okay, take your time." I squeeze her hand when she nods, telling me she's ready to start.

"Three years ago, my parents and I went to Costa Rica. My mom was an investigative journalist and started her new story, where she wanted to prove that one of the biggest businessmen in the states had a direct connection to the head of the drug cartel in Costa Rica."

"Wow, that's a huge task."

"It was. We went there and stayed in a classic hotel by the beach, which was beautiful too. I was a beautiful vacation in general, despite the fact that I didn't get to see my mom a lot. But then, the night before our flight, she was so excited. Apparently, she found something she wanted to investigate further, and she wanted to stay to get to the root of it all." She sighs, and I can only imagine this case had something to do with the predicament her father found himself in. "We didn't want her to stay, though. And that turned into a huge fight between my parents, but in the end, she agreed and came back with us. When we got back to L.A., she was still upset. That case has been on her mind for years, and now she was finally getting somewhere—she wanted to go back there. Dad and I were used to her being away. She was a free spirit and did whatever she deemed was right and just, but she agreed to settle down shortly after I left for college so she could spend more time with my dad."

Mila takes another deep breath, her eyes focused on our fingers, watching how she draws patterns on my palms with her shaky thumb. This must be taking a lot out of her.

"Two days later, I was meant to go back to college, and I went out with Dad to grab last-minute winter clothes at the mall. It took much longer than expected, and then, by the time we got back home..." She releases a shaky breath, and I rub my palm over her back, trying to calm her.

I notice there's a pattern to the deep breaths she takes until she exhales one last time, her voice emotional and brittle. "When we got back home, everything seemed fine at first. But then we entered the kitchen and...there was so much blood..."

Tears roll down her cheek, and she tries to speak again, but then shakes her head as she hides her face in my chest, her body shaking when she sobs.

"Oh, baby. I'm so sorry this happened to you," I whisper into her ear while she holds onto me tightly, like she's trying to keep her grip to reality.

We stay like that for a while until she calmed down, her tears already drying on my sweater as she leans back a bit and wipes her face. "I'm sorry, I—"

"No, don't apologize, Mila. Please."

"It's just... They said it happened only an hour ago, and they didn't even look for any other suspects. Dad was arrested on sight, and then they left. The D.A. did absolutely everything he could to make him look guilty. He even started a smear campaign to ensure his victory in the case, and Dad got slain by the media..."

God, it's so fucking clear now why she wants to stay behind the curtain, to keep her name out of the media. I feel like a dick now, with everything that's happened.

"And they ate it up. Someone even released the footage from the fight at the airport, and it all seemed so believable," she explains further, wiping one more tear off her face.

"But weren't you with him the whole time?" I ask, trying to wrap my head around the order of things.

"I was. I spoke to that on the witness stand, but Dad's lawyer said if we weren't careful, they might prosecute me as well. Accomplice to murder. Because, for some reason, the cameras in the mall were out of order the day we were there."

I'm not a lawyer, by all means, but that definitely sounds fishy.

"And my dad, being my dad, refused to let me get involved with any of it, so they had to strike my testimony from the record, leaving him without an alibi."

"Fuck." It's all I can say, really. I'm still floored by the amount of pain this woman had to endure already.

"Yeah." She clears her throat as she straightens herself up again, wiping her cheeks with a sigh. "It didn't take long for the jury to come back with a guilty verdict, and now my dad is in prison. Accused of killing his own wife, the mother of his only child."

She sobs again, and I immediately wrap my arms around her, trying to give her the strength she needs. "I'm so sorry, Mila. This is just...unfair beyond belief."

Never in my life have I felt the rage and anger I feel right now. I hate to see her this way, hate that she had to endure this tragedy, both parents taken away from her in the blink of an eye.

I might not know a lot about the legal system of our glorious state, but there's one thing I have a lot of. More than I know what to do with.

Money.

And if there's one thing I've learned, it's that money can buy you everything in this world. People are starving for it, even if they're full to the brim with dollar bills. That fact gives me hope, hope that I can help her out of this. I'll surely try everything I can to make that happen.

I meant what I said. I'd do anything for this woman. Including suing the goddamn state if that's what it takes to make her happy.

She stirs in my arms and looks up at me, the tears slowly drying on her skin when she shoots me a weak smile. "You know, my dad...you'd like him."

I can't help but grin at that. I'm confident I'd be a lost cause if her father didn't approve of me. "I'm sure I would."

"He's the one who convinced me to listen to you, actually."

"Wow. Seems like I owe him." I wink, and she smiles again, this time a little brighter than before.

"Yeah, I think he always knew what was best for me, even if I didn't believe him. Just like with Meredith."

"Meredith?" The name rings multiple bells in my head, though I don't know where exactly to place it. But then Mila sighs again, and I instantly remember seeing that name on her phone that day when she told me she'd been in a fight with a friend.

"Yeah, that's...that's another story I have to tell you about," she admits.

"We can talk about it tomorrow. You must be exhausted."

But she just looks up at me again, a grateful smile on her face when she brushes her knuckles over my cheek. "I love that you know my limits. I don't know how, but you do. You understand me."

"I'm trying my best," I answer truthfully. Because I do. I'm trying my hardest to understand her, to get inside her head, to know who she is and what she needs from me.

"You're doing great. But I need to get this out of my system."

And once again, it's obvious I underestimated this woman by miles. I knew she was strong beneath that fragile surface of hers, but seeing her like this, despite all the tears and pain written on her face, I can see she's probably the strongest person I know, even if her walls don't let it show all the time.

"Meredith, she's...was, a friend of Jas and mine. We went to college together, and she helped to get me out of my shell. She was always much more extroverted than me, pushing me to get out and do something every once in a while. But unlike you, she didn't always know my limits..." The way she sighs shows me there must be much more going on. "Well, this whole ordeal started when we went to the game. The one where you found me on the rooftop later on," she whispers. I smile at the memory; it brings back a lot of feelings and confused emotions. Hell, I really didn't expect things to go the way they did. "Anyway, when I realized who you were, I told them you're the one with my phone, and Mer just..." She's quiet for a moment; I can only imagine how hard this must be for her.

"She what?" I try to encourage her.

"She didn't believe me, I guess. Said you were you and I was...well, me. That it was impossible for this to happen."

And if I wasn't livid before, I sure am now. Because holy fuck, this woman has to live through much more injustice than she deserves. "That's just—"

"I know, I know," Mila interrupts me immediately. "I know it's stupid now. But back then, it just... I guess it fed my insecurities. I was angry at her. She knew who I was and how my brain worked, and knowing that made it all so much worse."

"I totally understand that." And I really do. She betrayed Mila's trust.

"So...yeah. I ignored her calls for a while, and eventually, I picked up because I figured I should at least listen to what she has to say, you know. But yeah, then you showed up, which was...ironic." Her smirk tells me she remembers that night just as well as I do, although now I understand her behavior better. "Well, and, uh...that article."

"What about it?"

"She wrote it and sent it to me before it got published. I don't think she knows about us, or at least not for sure, but she did write it and wanted me to see it before it got out there," she rambles.

I only look at her with wide eyes. "Why the fuck would she do that?" The anger inside me rises and rises; it's unfair what this woman has to go through at the hands of someone who calls herself a friend.

"I don't know, really." Mila shakes her head. "I just know I was done playing this game. I told her not to contact me anymore. I didn't know what to believe."

"Thank fuck for that."

"She was just... I don't know, she kept saying you and I were from different worlds, and I kept believing her. Because, I mean—"

"Mila, stop," I interrupt before she goes to that place. She looks up at me, and I could lose myself in those goddamn eyes every time she looks at me. "Why the fuck did you not tell me about this earlier? Is she the reason you were so hesitant?"

"I...I don't know. Maybe. I didn't know what to say, and honestly, it was hard not to believe her."

"Jesus Christ. If I ever see that woman, so help me God..." I have to take a deep breath to contain my irritation. This has been a shit-ton of information to process, but I need to focus on what Mila needs right now.

"I'm sorry," she whispers. "I just didn't know how to start a conversation like that. I mean, I didn't even know what was going on. Not that I do now."

"It's not your fault, Mila." I shake my head and take her hand in my own. This is way too much drama for my liking, and it's caused by me, worst of all. "But I sure as hell hope you don't believe that shit anymore."

"I don't," she answers immediately, her palm finding my cheek again. The second her fingers brush against my skin, her gaze pierces into me with so much conviction, the intensity at an all-time high, like she wants to break down all the barriers to deliver her message. "I know you're good for me. I know we're good together. No matter what anyone says."

She's getting more and more perfect every goddamn second. Because not only is this woman multifaceted as hell, she's also incredibly smart, funny, and so goddamn passionate.

Her friend was right in one aspect. We are from different worlds—different planets, even. While I'm on this tiny earth, she's the goddamn sun itself.

A force to be reckoned with, able to destroy me and turn me into ash with just a snap of her fingers.