Morning came too quickly.
Lina barely slept.
The night had been restless—filled with thoughts she couldn't quiet, questions she couldn't answer, and a lingering feeling she couldn't shake.
Still, she woke before sunrise.
Habit.
Responsibility.
Care.
In the quiet of her home, she moved gently through the kitchen, preparing a simple meal while glancing toward her mother's room every few moments.
She checked her temperature carefully.
"…It's still high," she whispered, her voice low, almost afraid of the confirmation.
"I'm okay," her mother said weakly from the bed. "You should go to work."
Lina turned back with a soft smile.
"I will," she replied, trying to sound reassuring. "But I'll come back early today."
Her younger brother sat at the table, quiet, watching her.
After a moment, he spoke.
"Ate… are we going to the hospital again?"
The question lingered in the air longer than it should have.
Lina paused.
Just for a second.
Her smile faltered—just slightly.
But she caught it quickly.
"…Soon," she said softly.
Not a promise.
Not a denial.
Just something to hold onto for now.
After leaving the house, Lina walked alone.
The morning air was cool, but it didn't feel refreshing.
If anything—
it made her more aware.
More aware of the weight she carried.
Hospital bills.
Medicine.
Rent.
Food.
Responsibilities that never paused.
And now—
a fear that sat quietly in the back of her mind.
The fear of losing everything she had worked so hard to protect.
Her steps slowed for a moment.
Her fingers curled slightly into her palm.
"I just have to work harder," she whispered to herself.
"Just a little more…"
It was something she had always told herself.
Something that had always worked before.
At least—
enough to keep going.
By the time she reached the company, the sun was fully up.
The doors opened.
And Lina stepped inside.
Her posture straightened.
Her expression softened.
Her smile returned—polished, familiar, practiced.
As if nothing had changed.
As if nothing was wrong.
As if she was exactly the same as always.
But this time—
someone was watching her.
Not casually.
Not distractedly.
But closely.
Adrian stood not far away, his gaze steady as he observed her from across the room.
And this time—
he didn't look away.
Because something about her smile…
felt different.
Not brighter.
Not lighter.
But heavier.
Like something was being carried beneath it.
And for the first time—
he didn't just notice her presence.
He noticed what she was hiding.