Evening had settled quietly over the Kwong mansion. The room was dim now, curtains half-drawn, the outside light muted and distant.
Ling was still wrapped around Rhea, almost boneless with exhaustion. Her face was buried against Rhea's collarbone, one arm slung tight around her waist, the other tucked between them. Every few minutes, her fingers would flex, unconsciously checking that Rhea was still there.
Rhea hadn't moved in hours.
A knock came.
Measured. Controlled.
Ling's body reacted instantly.
Her grip tightened. Her breathing stuttered.
Another knock.
"Ling," Eliza's voice called through the door. Calm. Too calm. "It's evening."
Ling swallowed hard. She didn't lift her head.
Rhea felt the tremor run through her.
"She can't come in," Ling whispered, panic low and urgent. "Please."
Rhea slid one hand up Ling's back, grounding. "She won't," she murmured.
The knock came again, firmer.
Ling closed her eyes. "Just—don't move."
Rhea nodded even though Ling couldn't see it.
Ling carefully shifted, disentangling herself just enough to stand. She grabbed the blanket and draped it loosely over Rhea, shielding her completely. Rhea stayed silent, hidden, heart pounding.
Ling walked to the door and opened it only a crack, keeping her body angled to block the view inside.
Eliza stood there, perfectly composed.
Her eyes went immediately to Ling's face.
"You didn't come down for dinner," Eliza said. "You didn't answer your phone."
Ling kept her voice steady with effort. "I wasn't hungry."
Eliza's gaze narrowed slightly. "You've been in your room all day."
Ling shrugged stiffly. "I needed rest."
Silence stretched.
Eliza studied her daughter—pale, eyes tired, jaw tight. She didn't look past Ling. She didn't step forward.
"You're shaking," Eliza said quietly.
Ling clenched her hands behind her back so Eliza wouldn't see them tremble. "I'm fine."
Eliza held her gaze. "Open the door wider."
Ling's breath caught. "Why?"
"So I can see you're fine."
Ling didn't move.
For a long second, neither of them spoke.
Then Ling said, low but firm, "Please don't."
Something flickered behind Eliza's eyes—not suspicion of another person, but concern mixed with irritation.
"…Very well," Eliza said after a pause. "But this isn't normal, Ling."
"I know," Ling replied, voice rough. "I just—need tonight."
Eliza nodded once. "I'll have food sent up. Eat something."
She turned to leave, then stopped. "If you need anything—"
"I won't," Ling interrupted quickly.
Eliza glanced back, studying her again, then left without another word.
The door closed.
Ling stood there for a full ten seconds, unmoving.
Then her shoulders sagged.
She crossed the room in two quick steps and climbed back onto the bed, pulling Rhea into her arms again with desperate urgency, like she was afraid the space itself might steal her away.
"She didn't see you," Ling whispered shakily. "She didn't."
Rhea wrapped around her instantly, firm, protective. "I know."
Ling buried her face into Rhea's neck, breath breaking. "Don't disappear," she murmured. "Not even for a second."
Rhea tightened her hold, chin resting on Ling's head. "I won't," she said quietly. "I'm not going anywhere."
Ling's breathing slowly steadied, her grip loosening just enough to rest instead of cling—but she never fully let go.
Outside the room, the mansion continued as usual.
Rhea's phone vibrated sharply.
She looked at the screen.
Shyra calling.
Her chest tightened. She answered immediately, voice low.
"Sheruu—"
Shyra didn't waste a second. "Mom's on her way to Zifa's," she said fast. "She said she's picking you up herself. Rhea—go there. Now. Before she realizes you're not."
Rhea closed her eyes.
"How much time?" she asked.
"Twenty minutes. Maybe less. You know how she gets when something feels off."
Rhea swallowed. "Okay."
She hung up and turned.
Ling was already watching her.
The way Ling sat up—too fast, too alert—said she had understood everything without a word being spoken.
Rhea stood. "I have to go."
Ling's face didn't change immediately. Then her eyes did. That small, quiet dimming—like someone turning the light down instead of switching it off.
"…You said you were staying," Ling said softly.
Rhea stepped closer, hands clenched at her sides. "I know. I know. But if she goes to Zifa's and I'm not there—"
"She'll know," Ling finished.
Rhea nodded.
Ling looked away, jaw tight. For a second she didn't speak at all. Then she nodded once, slow, controlled.
"Okay," Ling said. Her voice was steady, but her eyes weren't. "I'll take you out."
Rhea's breath hitched at how easily Ling agreed.
"You're sure?" Rhea asked, quieter now.
Ling let out a short breath that was almost a laugh. "I don't get to keep you by trapping you," she said. "That's not—" She stopped herself. "Come."
She grabbed a hoodie and wrapped it around Rhea quickly, practiced, hiding her the way she always did—instinctively, protectively.
They moved through the room in silence, Ling opening a side door, checking the corridor, listening for footsteps. Every movement was careful, deliberate.
When they reached the back exit, Ling stopped.
She turned to Rhea.
Up close, the tears Ling had been holding finally showed—caught in her lashes, unshed but heavy.
Rhea reached up without thinking, cupping Ling's face. "Hey," she whispered. "Look at me."
Ling didn't resist.
Rhea leaned in and kissed her—once. Slow. Intentional. No teasing this time. Just a promise pressed into skin.
"I'll make it up to you," Rhea said softly, forehead resting against Ling's. "Next Saturday. Sunday. My place."
Ling's breath stuttered. "You're serious?"
Rhea smiled faintly. "Very."
She tilted her head, eyes glinting despite the tension. "And this time… you don't have to pretend you're just watching."
Ling's ears went red instantly.
Rhea added, teasing but gentle, "We can even take a bath together. Save water. You love that excuse."
Ling huffed out a breath that almost sounded like a laugh. "You're evil."
Rhea kissed her again, quick this time. "Only for you."
Ling pulled her into one last tight hug, forehead buried in Rhea's shoulder. "Don't make me wait longer than that," she murmured.
"I won't," Rhea promised.
Ling opened the door.
Rhea slipped out into the evening air, heart pounding, and disappeared into the shadows—headed for Zifa's, for safety, for lies she hated telling.
Ling stayed there for a moment after the door closed.
Hand still warm where Rhea had been.
Eyes burning.
But she didn't chase.
She never chased.
She just waited.