You suggest her to get some rest .. as the compound is ready too .

"You should get some rest," I suggest, carefully sealing the compound in a small vial. "The neutralizing agent is ready, but it needs to freeze for about eight hours before it can be injected. There's nothing more we can do until morning."

Lina glances up from the couch where she's been watching me work. The mental connection between us has faded gradually over the past hour, leaving a strange emptiness in its wake. She looks exhausted, dark circles under her eyes—Jane's eyes—making the resemblance to her sister both stronger and more haunting.

"Yeah," she agrees, her voice thick with fatigue. "I need to recharge. My powers won't return without rest." She stands, stretching her arms above her head, the university t-shirt riding up to reveal a slice of pale stomach. "You can take the couch. Sheets and a pillow are in the closet by the bathroom."

I nod, placing the vial carefully in the freezer compartment of the refrigerator. "This should be ready by morning. Once injected, it should provide permanent immunity against my compound."

She pauses at the bedroom doorway, one hand resting on the frame. "Thank you, Sam. For helping me. For... understanding."

"We both want the same thing," I reply simply. "Justice for Jane."

She nods, a ghost of a smile touching her lips before she disappears into the bedroom, closing the door softly behind her.

I find sheets and a pillow in the closet as promised, making up a makeshift bed on the couch. The apartment is quiet except for the occasional city sounds filtering through the windows—a distant siren, the rumble of a truck, the muffled bass from someone's stereo. I lie down fully clothed, too exhausted to bother changing, staring at the ceiling as fatigue pulls at my consciousness.

Images from the past week flash through my mind: the ****, the lab work, Diamond Girl's terrifying powers, the revelation of Lina's identity. Jane's face superimposed over her twin's. The weight of grief and purpose pressing down on both of us. My last thought before sleep claims me is that Jane would be proud—her boyfriend and her twin sister, united in seeking justice for her ****.

Sometime around midnight, I open my eyes suddenly, disoriented. I'm no longer on the couch but in a bed—soft sheets beneath me, a proper pillow under my head. Moonlight filters through half-drawn curtains, illuminating the room just enough to make out shapes. Beside me lies Lina, her breathing deep and even in sleep. A thin line of saliva glistens at the corner of her mouth, dripping slowly onto the pillow.

I blink in confusion. Did she use her diamond form to carry me in here? It seems impossible otherwise—I'm heavier than her slight human frame could manage. But she was completely drained of power...

A soft murmur escapes her lips as she shifts in her sleep, one arm flung carelessly across the mattress, her dark hair splayed across the pillow in a way so achingly familiar that my heart clenches. Jane used to sleep exactly like this—mouth slightly open, drooling onto the pillow, hair a chaotic halo.

I should get up, return to the couch. This feels too intimate, too complicated. But exhaustion weighs my limbs down like concrete, and the bed is so much more comfortable than the sagging couch. I find myself smiling at the familiar sight of her sleeping face—so like Jane's—before my eyes grow heavy again.

"I'll figure it out in the morning," I think as consciousness slips away. The last thing I register is the faint scent of vanilla and lavender—Jane's signature scent—lingering on the pillow beneath my head.