The Kwong mansion gates opened with silent precision as the car rolled in.
Ling didn't look out the window.
Mira sat beside her.
Too close.
Ling tolerated it.
That alone was a sign something was wrong.
Rina watched from the back, arms crossed, eyes sharp. She'd placed herself there intentionally—to observe, to intercept if needed.
The car stopped.
Eliza hadn't come out.
That, too, meant something.
Inside, the mansion smelled like polish and control. Everything exactly where it belonged. Nothing allowed to breathe.
Ling removed her jacket and handed it to the staff without a word. Mira hovered, waiting for instruction, waiting for acknowledgment.
None came.
"Ling," Mira said softly, almost fragile. "Are you okay?"
Ling walked forward.
"I'm fine."
Flat. Final.
Rina bit back a comment.
They reached the living room.
"You should rest," Mira offered quickly. "The trip was exhausting. I can—"
"No," Ling said.
The single word carried authority and dismissal all at once.
She turned slightly, eyes cutting to Mira—not cruel, but distant. Final.
"You can go."
Mira froze.
Rina raised an eyebrow.
"But aunt asked me to stay," Mira said, voice trembling. "She said I should make sure you're—"
Ling stepped closer.
Not threatening.
Worse—unmoved.
"My mother doesn't command my personal space," Ling said calmly. "You don't either."
Silence slammed down.
Mira's eyes filled, but she nodded. "Of course."
She turned to Rina, desperate. "I'll call you?"
Rina smiled sweetly. "Don't."
Mira flinched, then hurried out.
The door closed.
Ling didn't react.
She walked toward the stairs, movements precise, controlled—until she reached the landing.
Then her hand hit the railing.
Hard.
Rina followed, slower now.
"She's gone," Rina said gently. "You can breathe."
Ling didn't turn.
"I am breathing."
Rina leaned against the wall, studying her cousin.
"You didn't look back at the bus," Rina said quietly. "Not once."
Ling's fingers tightened.
Rina continued, softer. "But you counted every second she wasn't beside you."
Ling's jaw flexed.
"Stop," she said.
Rina didn't.
"You let me sit with you," Rina added. "That alone tells me how far gone you are."
Ling turned then—eyes sharp, defensive.
"I let nothing happen."
Rina met her gaze evenly. "Exactly."
A beat.
Then Ling looked away.
"She chose her seat," Ling said. "She didn't look too."
Rina smiled faintly. "And that hurts."
Silence again.
Ling finally moved—ascending the stairs alone.
"I'm going to shower," she said. "Cancel my evening."
Rina watched her go.
As Ling's door closed upstairs, Rina's expression softened into concern.
For the first time, she thought—not teased, not joked—
Ling Kwong is in danger.
And it wasn't from anyone else.
It was from the quiet, relentless absence of Rhea Nior.
Rina headed straight for the inner courtyard.
Dadi sat there, as always, cane resting against the arm of her chair, tea untouched. Sharp eyes lifted the moment Rina approached.
"She's home," Dadi said. Not a question.
Rina nodded. "Just now."
Dadi's gaze flicked toward the staircase instinctively. "She didn't come here."
Rina sat opposite her. "No."
That was answer enough.
Dadi sighed softly. "Talk."
So Rina did.
She told her everything—
about the jungle trip,
the injuries Ling ignored,
the way Ling kept checking Rhea without calling it concern,
the salt incident, the vomiting, the crying Ling thought no one saw.
"And Eliza?" Dadi asked quietly.
Rina's mouth tightened. "Calls came. Mira cried. Stories were… edited."
Dadi scoffed softly. "Of course they were."
"Aunt told me to keep Ling away from Rhea," Rina continued. "I tried. But Ling doesn't respond well to invisible cages."
Dadi smiled sadly at that. "No. She never has."
"She's unraveling," Rina said, voice lower now. "Quietly. She's still respectful. Still controlled. But it's costing her."
Dadi nodded slowly. "Eliza loves like a general. She forgets Ling isn't a battlefield."
Rina leaned forward. "If Aunt pushes too hard—"
"She'll lose Ling," Dadi finished. "Not in rebellion. In silence."
They both fell quiet.
Upstairs, behind a closed door, Ling stood under the shower, water scalding her skin, head tilted back, jaw clenched.
She respected her mother.
She loved her.
But for the first time, she didn't know how to obey her without tearing something vital out of herself.
And that terrified her more than defiance ever could.