Rehab for SuperVillains (18+)-Chapter 273: Earlier that day 2

"The shadow twin."

Lila’s head tilted slightly, her black eyes glinting like polished obsidian, the warmth from moments ago draining away as if a veil had lifted—or fallen.

The room felt colder, the sunlight through the window now sharp and unforgiving, casting long shadows across the bed where the forgotten book lay abandoned.

"How did you know?" she asked, her voice low—a quiet murmur stripped of the fragility that had once clung to Lila’s words.

Now it was steady.

Probing.

Like a predator testing the air before the strike.

Kael didn’t flinch.

He didn’t step back. His stance was relaxed, but there was tension in the quiet set of his shoulders, in the way his arms hung—loose, but ready.

"I found the records," he said. "Old files buried beneath layers of forgeries, tucked deep in the ashes of what the fire didn’t consume. There was a girl listed at Ashbrook Orphanage. Just one, with a name that stood out."

He paused.

"Lital."

Lila’s lips parted, the smallest fracture in her mask.

But she said nothing.

Her black eyes narrowed—sharp, unreadable—watching.

Waiting.

Kael stepped closer, his boots soft on the floor, closing the distance without aggression, his hazel eyes locked on hers.

"A strange name, right? But not if you see it like this—’Lila’ and ’Tila’ meshed together. One name. One child. At first, I assumed Tila was the duplicate, the unstable half, the one who wrecked havoc, the dangerous one. But then... I watched. I really watched."

Lila’s gaze darkened, her body still as stone, her curls framing her face like a dark halo.

She didn’t blink, didn’t breathe too loudly, but the air between them thickened with unspoken truths.

Kael’s voice softened, carrying a weight of quiet observation.

"That day the Haven was raided... Tila lost control. She slaughtered everyone in the compound like she wasn’t even human—blood everywhere, screams cut short. And you... you just stood there, behind her. You didn’t scream. You didn’t try to stop her. You smiled."

He paused, letting the memory hang, his hazel eyes searching hers for any flicker of denial. None came. "Like a proud mother watching her daughter take her first steps."

Lila’s fingers twitched at her sides, a barely perceptible movement, her black eyes sharpening further, but she remained silent, her posture unyielding.

"And then there was the reaper," Kael continued, his tone even, recounting it like a story long pieced together.

"I am sure you remember. You were cut down—your head chopped off clean from your neck, blood pooling, body crumpling. To everyone else, it looked like Tila went berserk, broke from the trauma, lashing out in blind rage. But that wasn’t rage, was it?"

He took one more step, now close enough to feel the subtle heat radiating from her, the faint scent of her curls—something floral and faint, masking deeper shadows.

"You possessed her. You merged again. You became Lital. The single identity you were always meant to be."

"I’m not a monster," Lila whispered, her voice cracking just a fraction, the words slipping out like a defense long rehearsed.

"I know," Kael said instantly, his hazel eyes softening with genuine conviction, no judgment in his gaze.

Her voice rose, more fragile now, a tremor beneath the steel. "I’m not a bad person."

"I know."

He was standing in front of her now, the space between them mere inches.

Lila’s black eyes were sharp as razors, full of panic, resistance—but beneath them shimmered something desperate, a vulnerability clawing to the surface.

"What are you doing?" she asked, stepping back once, her back brushing against the bedpost, her voice laced with warning.

Kael’s arms moved slowly, deliberately, giving her every chance to pull away. "I know you want a hug."

"I don’t—"

But he reached anyway, his movements gentle yet insistent.

She shoved once—weakly, her palm flat against his chest, lacking any real strength, more a token resistance than a fight.

Kael pulled her into his arms, firm and unwavering, enveloping her in a hold that was both protective and unyielding.

She didn’t collapse, not right away—but the fight in her bled away like ink in water.

Her fists curled against his shirt, gripping the fabric, but she didn’t push again, her body slowly yielding, trembling faintly.

"I know who you are, Lila," he murmured into her hair, his voice a low rumble, warm against the chill she carried.

She swallowed hard, her breath hitching. "What am I, then?"

"You’re Tila’s guardian," Kael said softly, his words laced with quiet admiration, his chin resting lightly atop her head.

Lila went still in his embrace, her black eyes widening unseen against his shoulder, the truth resonating like a bell in the silence.

"You’ve always been that. Her shield. Her teacher. Her shadow. You made her strong—not just physically, but emotionally. You taught her to walk without fear, to face the world with that unshakeable arrogance, because you were always there, just behind her. Catching her if she ever fell. Guiding her through the nightmares that Ashbrook carved into you both."

Kael’s voice cracked with warmth, a rare vulnerability slipping through his resolve.

"And when you came to me that day, asking for help... that wasn’t for you. You didn’t need me. But she did. You saw her starting to lose herself—to drift too deep into the dark, unraveling thread by thread—and you wanted to save her before she became what the world made her in Ashbrook. A weapon without a soul. You knew she needed something else. Something real. You hoped I could be that."

Lila trembled in his arms, her curls brushing his neck, her breath uneven as the walls she’d built began to crumble.

And in the silence that followed, Kael pulled back just far enough to see her face, his hands gentle on her shoulders.

Her black eyes met his, shimmering with unshed tears—not from guilt this time, but from a raw, aching release, like chains finally loosening.

He asked, gently, his hazel eyes searching hers. "Am I right?"

Her voice came soft, barely a whisper, carried on a breath she’d held too long.

"...Yes."