Kwong Mansion — Dinner Night
The dining table was full.
Food untouched.
Conversation strained.
Eliza places her napkin down slowly. "Where is Ling."
Rina doesn't look up. "Probably out riding."
Dadi nods a beat too fast. "Yes. Fresh air. Youth."
Eliza's eyes lift. Sharp. "At dinner time."
Victor clears his throat. "She said she'd be late."
"She didn't," Eliza replies calmly.
Rina smiles too brightly. "She implied."
Eliza leans back, studying them both. "You're covering."
Dadi sighs theatrically. "Oh darling, if we were covering, we'd be worse at it."
Eliza ignores her. "She's with that girl."
Rina sets her fork down. "She's with herself."
Eliza's jaw tightens. "I asked where my daughter is."
Victor finally speaks. "Eliza."
She looks at him.
"Pushing will only drive her further," he says quietly.
Eliza stands. "I don't push. I correct."
She leaves the table.
Rina exhales. "Well. That went well."
Dadi smiles knowingly.
Nior Mansion — Rhea's Room
Rhea stands in front of the mirror, hair loose, baggy shirt falling soft against her thighs. She's adjusting the hem, frowning at herself.
Something moves behind her.
She freezes.
Slowly lifts her eyes to the mirror.
Nothing.
Her heart thumps once. Annoyed at herself, she exhales. "Get a grip."
She turns—
A shadow flashes past the window.
Rhea spins fully now. "Hello?"
Silence.
Then—
A soft thud.
Rhea walks closer, cautious. Pulls the curtain aside.
Outside, three floors down, Ling Kwong is bouncing lightly on black jumping foam, hands tucked casually in her pockets like this is the most normal thing in the world.
Up.
Down.
Up again.
Rhea's eyes go wide. "What—are you—doing?"
Ling looks up mid-bounce and grins. "Testing gravity."
"Have you lost your mind?" Rhea hisses, cracking the window open just enough. "This is my house."
Ling lands, springs again. "Correction. This is your window."
Rhea glares. "Stop jumping."
Ling doesn't. "You said last time window exit only. I'm respecting boundaries."
Rhea pinches the bridge of her nose. "You're going to be seen."
Ling shrugs mid-air. "Security's blind again."
Rhea snaps, "That's not reassuring!"
Ling times a higher jump, grabs the sill smoothly, and vaults inside like it's nothing. Lands silently. Straightens. Smiling.
"There," Ling says. "No more jumping."
Rhea stares at her. "You could've died."
Ling tilts her head. "You sound worried."
"I sound angry."
"You look both."
Rhea slams the curtain shut. "Why are you here."
Ling glances around the room, satisfied. "You didn't text back."
"I was busy."
"Lying," Ling says easily.
Rhea folds her arms. "You're not staying."
Ling leans back against the window. "You didn't say that yet."
Rhea glares. "Ling."
Ling's gaze drifts to the mirror, then back to Rhea. "You were checking yourself."
"That's none of your—"
Ling interrupts softly, "You saw me twice before believing."
Rhea stiffens.
Ling steps close. Never rushing. "You always do that," she says. "Doubt your instinct first."
Rhea's voice drops. "Don't psychoanalyze me in my own room."
Ling smiles faintly. "Then don't invite me into your head."
"I didn't invite you anywhere."
Ling looks at the open drawer. The corner of black fabric barely visible.
Her eyes flick up to Rhea.
"You kept it," Ling says.
Rhea snaps, "I forgot to throw it."
Ling hums. "Sure."
Rhea points at the window. "You're leaving."
Ling doesn't move. "Say it properly."
Rhea grits her teeth. "Go. Now."
Ling studies her for a long second. Then nods once. "Okay."
She turns toward the window.
Rhea exhales—too soon.
Ling pauses, glances back over her shoulder. "You smiled today."
Rhea stiffens. "About what."
"You know," Ling says quietly.
Rhea doesn't answer.
Ling opens the window, steps onto the sill, then stops again. "If you hear bouncing," she adds lightly, "don't panic."
Rhea snaps, "I'm panicking already!"
Ling laughs under her breath. "Goodnight, baby girl."
She disappears.
Rhea rushes to the window just in time to see Ling bounce once—salute—then vanish into the dark.
Rhea presses her forehead to the glass.
"…Idiot," she whispers.
Her phone vibrates.
A message lights up.
Ling: Next time, I'll bring quieter foam.
Rhea closes her eyes.
And smiles.
Before Ling can go away the lights snap on.
White. Blinding.
A sharp whistle cuts the air.
"Movement near the west wall."
Ling freezes mid-step.
"Shit," she mutters under her breath.
Footsteps. Two sets. Radios crackling.
Ling ducks instinctively, pressing herself into the shadow where the wall meets the hedges, body tight, breath measured. The foam shifts slightly under her boot.
She stills it with her heel.
Her phone vibrates in her palm.
She doesn't look.
Another whistle. Closer.
"Check the boundary."
Ling finally glances down.
Ling: Security. I'm still inside.
Not even three seconds pass.
Her phone vibrates again.
Rhea: Don't move.
Ling's mouth curves despite everything.
Ling: I'm trying not to breathe.
A flashlight beam sweeps the wall.
Ling presses flatter, shoulder scraping stone. Her jaw tightens—but she doesn't move.
Above her, a balcony door creaks.
Rhea slips out, barefoot, wrapped in irritation and adrenaline.
She doesn't look panicked.
She looks furious.
She scans once—then her eyes lock onto the shadow.
She moves fast.
Down the stairs. Across the lawn.
Straight into Ling's space.
Rhea grabs her collar and slams her back against the wall silently, forearm pressed to Ling's throat just enough to pin—not choke.
"I hate you," Rhea whispers, shaking with contained rage.
Ling smiles. Of course she does.
"Missed you too."
Rhea glares daggers. "Are you insane?"
Ling's eyes flick toward the approaching light, then back. "A little."
Rhea tightens her grip. "You could've been caught."
Ling's voice drops. "But I wasn't."
Rhea leans in, teeth clenched. "Because you're lucky. Not smart."
Ling lifts a brow. "You came down anyway."
Rhea releases her abruptly, hissing, "You make me do stupid things."
Ling watches her like that's the best compliment she's ever received.
Rhea grabs the foam, drags it back under the window. "Get back."
Ling blinks. "What."
"Jump," Rhea snaps. "Land in my room. I'll distract them."
Ling studies her face. The resolve. The fire.
"You're choosing violence," Ling murmurs.
Rhea shoves the foam into place. "I'm choosing you leaving."
Ling steps onto it. "Say it properly."
Rhea growls, "Go. Now."
Ling springs.
She jumps, catches the railing clean, muscles tight as she swings herself up, boots scraping stone softly. She disappears inside the window.