Trapped.
Actually trapped.
Not metaphorically.
Not emotionally.
Physically.
The realization settled in slowly.
And then all at once.
My fingers curled into fists.
I turned away, pacing the room once—twice—too fast, too restless.
My eyes scanned everything.
Windows.
Balcony.
Anything.
There had to be a way out.
There had to be—
Then I stopped.
Because something caught my attention.
On the table.
His phone.
No—
Not his phone.
A second one.
Left behind.
Deliberately.
My breath slowed.
Carefully—I picked it up.
The screen lit up instantly.
No password.
A message already open.
My heart skipped.
And then dropped.
A photo.
My mother.
Walking outside the house.
Unaware.
Unwatched—
Except she wasn't.
Because below it—
one message.
From an unknown number.
"Do you want us to keep watching?"
My hands started shaking.
Because suddenly—
this wasn't just about me anymore.
And somewhere—
far too calm for this situation—
I could almost hear his voice again.
"I'll protect her… better than you ever could."
My grip tightened around the phone.
For a second—
I couldn't breathe.
Then instinct took over.
I unlocked it—no resistance, no password—and immediately went to the call screen.
My hands were shaking too much to type properly.
"Come on… come on…"
I dialed her number.
The phone rang.
Once.
Twice.
Each second stretched unbearably long.
"Pick up… please pick up…"
Then—
The call ended.
My heart dropped.
No answer.
"No."
I tried again.
This time—
Call failed.
My phone was dead,no charging cord found in his room.
I had no time to look for it more.
My chest tightened.
I switched to messages, typing fast, messy in his second phone.
"Mom don't go out don't trust anyone call me now"
Send.
The message didn't go through.
A small symbol blinked at the corner.
No network.
Of course.
Of course he thought of that.
A hollow laugh escaped me, breathless and broken.
"Cheng Mo…"
My grip on the phone tightened until my knuckles turned white.
He didn't just trap me.
He cut me off.