Maxwell looked at her, his blue eyes heavy with pity and pain.
"We need to leave," he said quietly, his voice almost a whisper.
"You need to tell me. I *need* to know," Amara's voice trembled, curiosity and fear warring in her chest. She could feel it—something was terribly wrong. "There weren't just one or two secrets, were there? There were *many*. What are you hiding?" Her words softened, almost afraid to be heard.
"This is not the time," Maxwell snapped, desperation cutting through his calm. "We need to leave. Get that into your head."
"Who are you scared of?" Amara demanded, stepping closer.
"Myself," he admitted, voice raw. "I'm scared… scared of what I might do .... Right now"
"Come to your senses," she said, firm but quiet.
"Me? You're talking about me?" His hands curled into fists. "I'm trying—trying not to make mistakes, trying to stay calm—but you keep pushing me, testing me. I just told you something important, and you turn it into rebellion!"
A chill ran through Amara. She froze mid-step.
"What's wrong with you? I only asked for an answer! I'm sorry, but I know you're hiding something like always ," she said, her voice low, controlled, but edged with frustration.
"Amara! *We need to leave!* What don't you understand? I can't tell you anything right now. Just… leave it, I'll try to explain everything when you're well and when you get home! " he said, the words trembling as anger and fear battled in him.
"oh! Great then!! If you can yell, I can yell too! Do you think being loud makes you right? I have the right to know the truth! Enough is enough! Stop throwing me aside. You threw me aside as if I were powerless," she shouted, taking a step closer. Her hands shook, but her gaze held his.
"You ran away from me for eight years because you were afraid of me over things I didn't do. What else do you want me to say?" Maxwell's chest heaved, his tone a mixture of hurt and exhaustion.
"I don't believe you're using that against me now. I wasn't even myself back then, and it was because of you. If you had listened to me, even once… we wouldn't be here. Don't forget that," she said, her voice softening, but the pain in her eyes spoke volumes.
"You don't know anything. Anything — because you don't even remember it," he said.
"I remember that you tied me to the bed, though," she shot back.
He stepped closer, his face inches from hers.
"Yes, because you were trying to kill yourself — I had to," he whispered, anger trembling beneath his breath.
"Oh, great. My hero!" she yelled, her voice cracking with rage and hurt.
He started to laugh, a sharp, bitter sound.
"You think this is a game? You think this is a joke?" he said, his voice breaking into anger.
"Me? I asked you one—not two, just one question! And oh, what was that? Right—what the fuck are you hiding from me? It's a simple question!" she shouted back.
"I'm trying to protect you! Like I always have!" he yelled.
"Protect me? Oh, you did a great job protecting me!" she screamed. "I tried to kill myself! Eight years passed, and now I find out my children are alive. Woo-hoo! You did a GREAT job!" She shoved him in the chest, her voice cracking with fury.
"Tell me why!" she demanded, hitting him again.
"Amara, that's enough!" he said, looking up at the ceiling, trying to calm himself.
"Tell me what!" she yelled, refusing to stop.
Maxwell grabbed both her hands, his grip trembling with anger and fear.
"They'll kill you," he said through his teeth.
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