I didn't turn.
I didn't have to.
"Visiting hours are over," I said quietly, my fingers tightening around my mother's hand.
Silence.
Then—
"They made an exception."
My breath stilled.
Slowly—
I looked back.
Cheng Mo stood at the door.
Calm.
Composed.
Like he belonged here.
Like he always did.
"What are you doing here?"
The question came out sharper than I intended.
He didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he stepped inside—unhurried, controlled—his gaze flicking briefly to my mother… then back to me.
"Making sure she's stable."
My chest tightened.
"I can do that."
A faint pause.
Then—
"No," he said softly.
"You can't."
Anger flared instantly.
"I'm her son—"
"And you froze."
The words cut clean.
Precise.
My voice died in my throat.
Because that wasn't just about now.
That was about before.
Always before.
I stood up abruptly.
"Get out."
For a second—
he didn't move.
Then his gaze shifted slightly—past me.
Toward the monitor.
Beep.Beep.Beep—
It changed.
Just slightly.
Irregular.
My heart dropped.
"What—"
I turned instantly.
"Mom?"
Her fingers twitched weakly in mine.
The machine beeped faster now.
Unsteady.
Doctor!" I called out, panic rising too fast.
But before I could move—
his hand caught my arm.
Firm.
Stopping me.
"Wait."
"Are you crazy?!" I snapped, trying to pull away.
But his grip didn't loosen.
Look."
My breath hitched.
Because his voice—
wasn't calm anymore.
It was focused.
Sharp.
I followed his gaze.
The IV line.
A slight bend.
Restricted flow.
Something wrong.
He stepped past me, fixing it in one smooth motion.
The monitor steadied.
Slowly.
Beep.Beep.
Normal again.
My chest heaved.
Relief hit—but it didn't settle.
Because this didn't feel like coincidence.
You saw that?" I whispered.
He didn't look at me.
"Of course."
A pause.
Then—
he finally turned.
And this time—
his expression wasn't calm.
It was something colder.
More certain.
"She won't last here."
My stomach dropped.
"…what do you mean?"
A step closer.
Close enough to make my pulse spike again.
"This hospital isn't safe."
Silence.
Then why bring her here?"
The question slipped out.
Before I could stop it.
His gaze locked onto mine.
Unmoving.
"Because," he said quietly,
"I needed you to see it."
My breath stopped.
Because suddenly—
this wasn't about saving her.
It was about proving something.
And I didn't know which was worse.