"Mom, why are you staring like that?"
Y/N sat on the kitchen counter, legs swinging. Her mother stood near the window, phone pressed to her ear, dressed in a simple black dress and cardigan—modern, effortless, distracted.
"I told you not to call again," her mother said quietly into the phone.
Pause.
Y/N tilted her head. "Mom?"
Her mother turned, forcing a smile too fast. "Yes, angel?"
Y/n:- "Are you mad at me?"
Her mother walked over immediately, cupping Y/N's face. "Never. Not you."
Y/n:- "But you look… scared."
That word landed heavier than it should have.
Her mother inhaled slowly. "Come here."
She pulled Y/N into a hug, tighter than usual. "If I ever tell you to hide, you listen. Okay?"
Y/N frowned. "Hide from what?"
Her mother didn't answer right away.
"From people who smile but don't mean it," she finally said.
Later that night—
"Mom?" Y/N whispered from the doorway. "Someone's outside."
Her mother froze.
"Did you open the door?" she asked, too calmly.
"No."
Her mother crossed the room in seconds, locking it, then kneeling in front of Y/N.
"Listen to me," she said, voice low.
"Whatever happens next… you don't leave this room."
"What's happening?" Y/N asked, heart racing.
Her mother brushed her hair back, fingers trembling. "I made a mistake trusting the wrong people."
A loud knock echoed through the house.
Y/N jumped. "Mom—"
Her mother stood, jaw tightening.
"Remember what I said."
The voices started outside. Familiar. Male. Laughing softly.
"You can't protect her forever," one of them said.
Y/N watched from the hallway as her mother stepped forward.
"She's not part of this," her mother snapped. "She's just a child."
"That's the problem," the man replied. "She knows things."
Y/N's breath caught.
Knows what?
Her mother looked back at Y/N—just for a second—but in that second,
Y/n saw it.
Fear.
Regret.
And something worse.
Love that knew it was about to lose.
"Run," her mother mouthed silently.
The lights flickered.
The memory snapped—
Y/N woke up gasping, fingers curling into the bedsheet like she was holding onto something invisible.
Her chest burned.
That night.
Those voices.
That look.
I know something, her mind whispered.
Something they never wanted me to remember.
Her phone buzzed beside her.
Unknown Number:
Some memories aren't lost. They're buried.
Her pulse thundered.
Unknown Number:
And you, Y/N… have been handcuffed to the truth since childhood.
She stared at the screen, frozen.
Not by metal.
Not by force.
But by a secret her past refused to let go of.
And once again, the same question clawed its way back—
What did I see that night…
and why is someone afraid I'll remember?....