Don't make me choose between stopping you—"
His grip tightened at my waist.
"—and keeping you."
For a second—
everything stilled.
My breath.
My thoughts.
Him.
Then something in me snapped again.
Harder this time.
I shoved him back—sudden, desperate, using everything I had.
He wasn't expecting it.
Not this time.
His grip slipped.
Just for a second.
But that was enough.
I stepped back—fast—then turned and ran.
Through the door.
Out.
This time—I didn't stop.
Didn't look back.
Didn't think.
Just ran.
The door slammed behind me.
But I didn't hear it.
All I could hear was my own heartbeat—loud, frantic, alive.
I didn't stop until I reached home.
Until I saw her.
My mother.
Standing there.
Safe.
Breathing.
Alive.
The moment she turned and saw me—
everything broke.
"Shu Lin? What—"
I crossed the distance in seconds, pulling her into a tight hug.
Too tight.
Like if I let go—
she'd disappear.
"I'm okay," she said softly, confused, her hand resting on my back.
"I'm here."
And for the first time in days—
I believed it.
The next few days passed quietly.
Too quietly.
I stayed with her.
Didn't leave.
Didn't answer calls.
Didn't think about him.
Or tried not to.
But sometimes—
late at night—
I'd feel it.
That pull.
That presence.
Like he was still watching.
Still there.
Waiting.
It happened on the fourth day.
Suddenly.
Without warning.
She was talking—
smiling—
and then—
her voice cut off.
Her hand clutched her chest.
"Mom?"
Her face went pale.
Too pale.
"Shu… Lin…"
My heart stopped.
"No—no, no—"
I caught her before she fell, lowering her to the ground, panic rising too fast, too sharp.
Stay with me—please—stay with me—"
My hands were shaking.
My mind blank.
Just like before.
Just like that night.
Her breathing turned uneven.
Weak.
Fading.
"Help—" my voice broke as I reached for my phone.
Call.
Ambulance.
Fast.
Too slow.
Everything felt too slow.
Please…"
Not again.
Not like this.
Not in front of me.
Not when I could—
Not when I had to—
A sound cut through the panic.
Calm.Steady.Out of place.
"She'll be fine."