Before Emma could form another word, Brian's voice exploded across the room.
"GET OUT!"
The command was sharp enough to cut through air. Emma nearly jumped, her breath catching in her throat. But something inside her, something that had been buried under fear and desperation refused to yield.
"I'm not leaving," she said quietly.
Brian froze mid-stride. His shoulders tensed, the muscles in his jaw tightening as he turned his head toward her. The look in his eyes was pure warning.
"Don't test me," he said flatly. "If I come back and find you still standing here, don't blame me for what happens next."
And with that, he disappeared into the bathroom.
The sound of running water soon filled the silence. Steam began to seep through the cracks of the door, curling lazily into the air. Emma stood motionless, staring at the carpet beneath her feet. Her hands trembled, but she couldn't move even when her throat burned from holding back tears.
Charlotte's words replayed in her mind like a haunting whisper: "It will change your family's situation as well…"
Her mother's fragile figure flashed before her eyes, her sisters' hungry faces following. Emma pressed a hand to her chest to steady her racing heart. You have to do this. Just once. For them.
The water stopped. Silence again louder this time, as though the walls themselves were listening.
A moment later, the bathroom door opened.
Brian stepped out, the faint light glinting off his damp hair. His presence filled the room instantly, his expression unreadable, his eyes cold but heavy with something else weariness, perhaps.
Emma froze behind the curtain, her pulse pounding in her ears. She could hear the faint rustle of fabric as he moved toward the closet. Every small sound felt magnified.
He didn't seem to notice her at first, and for a fleeting second, she thought of running just leaving everything behind. But then her mind drifted again to the people waiting for her back home, and her fear hardened into a quiet determination.
When Brian finally sensed movement behind him, he stopped. His back straightened slightly, as though alert to an unfamiliar rhythm in the room.
Before he could turn, Emma stepped forward.
Her arms moved on their own, sliding around his waist from behind, her face pressed against the warmth of his back.
Brian stiffened immediately. The contact shot through him like a spark unexpected, unwanted, but undeniably real. His breath hitched, his body reacting faster than his mind could process.
"Let go," he said, voice low and strained, the calm before a storm.
Emma's arms trembled but held on. Her heartbeat drummed against his spine.
"I need this chance," she whispered, her voice cracking. "Please."
He inhaled sharply, then pried her hands away with firm restraint. "You don't know what you're doing," he said, turning to face her.
For a second, the air between them thickened. His eyes met hers shimmering with fear and desperation, his shadowed by disbelief and something dangerously close to sympathy.
The faint scent of lavender from his skin wrapped around her like a cruel temptation. She bit her lip, fighting the tears that threatened to spill.
"I know exactly what I'm doing," she whispered again.
Brian stood still. The look in his eyes changed just slightly but it was enough to make the moment tremble on the edge of something neither of them could name.
Finally, he let out a long, controlled breath and took a step back. "You should leave," he said, softer now, though the coldness remained. "Before you do something you can't take back."
Emma didn't move. Her shoulders quivered, but her gaze held steady. "It's already too late for that," she murmured.
For a brief, fleeting instant, silence ruled the room again dense, electric, and full of things neither dared to speak.