Dylan clenched his phone tighter, his voice low but firm. "I'll ask her about this."
On the other end of the line, Sheng's voice carried a soft urgency. "It's better if you can contact them. This is a sensitive topic. Ember... she can feel incredibly alone when there's no one by her side—especially when she was trying to explain all this to her parents."
Dylan's jaw tensed. "I have the number of Ember's doctor from City Blue. I can call him... but what do I even say?"
Sheng didn't hesitate. "Why don't you tell them the truth?"
The words hit like thunder.
"What?" The room fell into stunned silence, everyone staring in disbelief.
Sheng's voice was calm, resolute. "I think it's time they know the truth. This isn't something we can keep hiding. And Adrien is here too—you know what it means to have a doctor see her up close. Ember's condition isn't ordinary. She needs extra care."
Adrien stepped forward, his voice steady, but laced with concern. "She's right. Ember's been having panic attacks—bad ones. Her emotional state is fragile. Her parents should know. It's best if they understand what she's going through."
Dylan's voice broke, raw and filled with guilt. "And what do I tell them? That I failed to protect their daughter? That she was nearly..." His breath caught. "She almost got raped because of me. Because she trusted me."
"Dylan." Sheng's voice softened, firm but kind. "Stop blaming yourself. If you truly want to support Ember, then be honest. Tell her parents what's going on. Don't let her carry this alone anymore. She came to you in the middle of the night, remember? You may not always be by her side, but her parents can offer her the kind of support she needs, especially when you are not there."
He continued, more gently now, "If possible, ask them not to let her know they've been told. Let Ember speak when she's ready. But talk to them before she wakes up, so they can process everything. You're the only one who can assure them that their daughter is safe now... safe with you."
His voice was a vow now, low and resolute. "Okay."
Sheng chuckled faintly. "And Dylan? Don't drink too much. You're about to call your future in-laws. Try sounding like a decent guy, alright?" Her teasing held warmth. "I'm hanging up now. You guys take care. Keep me updated on Ember's condition."
After the call ended, Dylan took a deep breath, pushing his hand through his hair. The weight of everything still lingered in his chest, but there was no time to hesitate. He quickly changed into a clean shirt and dark jeans, the scent of Ember still lingering on his skin from earlier.
As he reached for his keys, a voice called from behind.
"Hey, where are you going?" Emir asked, eyes narrowing with curiosity.
Dylan didn't look back, just gave a faint smile. "Back to Ember. She might wake up soon."
Adrien stepped forward, "Don't forget to apply the ointment I gave you. Every bruise, Dylan—every one. She shouldn't be in more pain than she already is."
Dylan nodded solemnly. "I won't forget." His voice was low, protective. His heart beat with a restless rhythm, already pulling him back to her.
He offered a quick goodbye and left the hotel room, the city lights blurring past him as he drove back to his apartment.
When he stepped inside, the living room lights were dim. His mother sat on the couch, flipping through a magazine with half-interest.
"Hello, Mom," Dylan greeted, voice soft.
She looked up and smiled warmly. "Hello, Dylan. Where did you go?"
"Just out with some friends," he lied easily, then softened. "Thank you for staying with Ember while I was gone."
She waved it off, her eyes kind. "You don't have to thank me. It's my duty as a mother-in-law, after all."
Dylan blinked, a warmth creeping into his chest. "You really accept our relationship?"
She set the magazine aside and stood, her tone tender. "I liked her the first time we met at the party. She was so quiet… so lost. Poor girl, she didn't deserve any of this. No one does."
Dylan's voice dropped, filled with quiet conviction. "Yeah. But nothing that happens is going to lessen my love for her. Nothing."
His mother smiled, her gaze full of understanding. "That's my son. I always knew you'd love with everything you had." Then her tone shifted. "So, what happened with the police?"
"They're still trying to track them down. We're hoping for the best," Dylan replied, tension flickering in his eyes.
His mother nodded. "I made some food. Have a bite—your father's on his way. Then I'll leave with him."
"Thanks, but… I need to see her first."
She gave a knowing smile. "Go."
Dylan walked quietly down the hallway and stopped outside Ember's door. He inhaled sharply before gently pushing it open.
And then he froze.
There she was.
The room was cloaked in the hush of night, the only light spilling from a silver crescent moon beyond the curtains. Shadows stretched long across the walls, casting soft silhouettes that danced like forgotten memories. The faint hum of the city outside barely reached them, muted by the thick stillness of the hour.
Ember sat upright in bed, the blanket falling slightly from her shoulders. Moonlight bathed her skin in pale silver, glinting off the wet trails of dried tears. Her dark hair clung to her cheek, her breathing unsteady, caught between the remnants of a nightmare and the warmth of reality.
And then she saw him.
Dylan stood frozen in the doorway, as if he, too, was afraid to move—to breathe. His name fell from her lips like a fragile prayer.
"Dylan…"
The sound of it—soft, broken, full of longing—shattered something deep inside him. He stepped into the room slowly, almost cautiously, his heart thudding louder than the quiet around them.
"You're awake," he whispered, voice raw, barely more than breath. As if saying it too loud might make her vanish again.
Ember's hand trembled as she reached toward him, her eyes glistening. "I waited for you… I was so scared you wouldn't come back…"
He didn't speak. He couldn't. He crossed the room in two strides and dropped to his knees beside the bed, wrapping her small, bruised hand between his palms like it was made of glass. His thumb brushed over the fading marks on her wrist, his touch gentle, reverent.
"I'll always come back to you, Ember. Always." His voice cracked, choked by everything he was holding back. "You're safe now. I won't let anyone hurt you again. Not while I'm breathing. Even if I have to burn the world down to protect you."
She leaned forward, their foreheads brushing, her tears falling freely now. The quiet between them was sacred, heavy with the pain of what was and the fragile hope of what could be.
"I dreamed of you…" she whispered, her voice breaking. "I thought I lost you."
"You'll never lose me," Dylan murmured, his lips barely grazing her temple. "You're mine, Ember. And I'm yours."
His fingers slid through her hair, tender and slow, like he was memorizing every strand. Then, as if pulled by a force stronger than gravity, he leaned closer, his voice a soft vow in the dark.
"You're everything, Ember."
When Dylan stepped closer to the bed, then he blinked.
It was just an illusion… a cruel trick of the dim moonlight.
Ember still lay motionless, her chest rising and falling softly beneath the blankets. Her face was pale, her lips parted slightly as if caught mid-sigh. Dylan's heart sank, and a bitter smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Hope, it seemed, was a dangerous thing.
He moved closer, crouching beside her. His fingers brushed a strand of hair away from her face before he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.
"I'll be waiting for you," he whispered, his voice trembling against her skin.
Then he stood, slowly, and walked out of the room—leaving behind the girl who held his heart, trapped in a silence that haunted him.
In the kitchen, the soft clink of plates brought him back to the world. His mother had already heated the food, and Emir was just about to sit down when the front door opened. Dylan's father stepped inside, looking exhausted but composed.
"Dylan, my child," his father said firmly, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry. I've contacted the police. I told them to find those men—fast. I want the case closed as soon as possible. You don't carry the weight of this. Just take care of your girl."
"Thanks, Dad," Dylan murmured, his voice low.
His mother moved in, wrapping her arms around him. Her embrace was warm but heavy with concern. "Make sure you feed her when she wakes. And please… keep us updated about her condition."
Dylan nodded silently, the knot in his throat too tight to speak.
As the front door clicked shut behind them, silence once again filled the apartment. He stood at the dining table, staring at the plate of food his mother had made. But his appetite was gone, stolen by the bruises on Ember's skin and the weight of everything she'd been through.
He placed the food gently in the fridge and whispered to himself, "I'll eat when she wakes… with her."
Returning to his room, his gaze immediately landed on the small tube of ointment Adrien had given him. He picked it up, his fingers tightening around it.
The room was quiet—too quiet. The kind of silence that screams.
Dylan sat beside Ember on the bed and pulled the blanket down slowly. His hands trembled as he gently applied the ointment to each bruise, each wound another reminder of what had been done to her. His touch was tender, reverent… but every mark on her skin felt like a dagger in his soul.
Each time his fingertips grazed a bruise, his jaw clenched.
His eyes were glassy now, swimming with guilt.
"I should've been there," he whispered, barely able to say the words. "This should've never happened to you…"
The ache in his chest twisted tighter with each breath. But still, he continued—softly tending to her as if she were made of porcelain, as if one wrong move could shatter her completely.
When he was done, he lay down beside her and pulled her carefully into his arms. Her body molded against his, warm but still too still.
"I've got you now," he breathed into the darkness. "And I'm never letting go."
The day had drained every last ounce of strength from him. Wrapped around her, Dylan finally surrendered to sleep, his arms curled protectively around Ember, as if even in dreams, he could keep her safe.
When Dylan stirred, the clock had already slipped past midnight. The apartment was cloaked in silence, the only sound the soft rhythm of Ember's breathing beside him. She hadn't woken yet.
He turned his head, gazing at her through the dim moonlight. The way her face looked in sleep—so peaceful, so heartbreakingly serene—tugged at something deep within him. The bruises were still there, faint shadows beneath her beauty, but the pain seemed far away, at least for now.
He let his eyes linger on her for a moment longer, memorizing her as she was. God, she looked like something out of a dream… too fragile for this world. He wanted to freeze time—capture that image and keep it forever.
But reality crept back in.
Dylan sat up slowly, careful not to wake her. He slipped from the bed and stepped out into the quiet of the living room. The air was cool, the shadows stretching long across the walls. He grabbed a glass of water from the dining table and took a slow sip, letting it clear the tightness in his throat. His voice needed to be steady—for this call.
He took a deep breath and dialed.
-------------------------------------------------------------
In the city of Blue, Country I
The soft light of early morning spilled through the hospital window as Zayne slowly stirred awake. The room was still, and the first thing he saw was Ember lying peacefully on the hospital bed. Her body was wrapped in clean bandages, her breathing steady but faint—like a whisper holding onto something fragile.
He rose from the chair and stepped toward her, brushing his fingers gently against her arm. The invisible wall that had surrounded her during the night—was gone. That meant it was finally he can examine her thoroughly.
Zayne performed a full body check-up, and though her vitals were stable, his heart sank as he discovered more bruises than he had expected. Deep, dark marks covered her skin like cruel fingerprints of someone who had meant to break her. His jaw clenched.
Who the hell did this to you, Ember?
Just then, his phone buzzed sharply, cutting through the silence. Dylan's name flashed across the screen. Zayne hesitated for a second before answering.
"Hello," he said cautiously.
"Hey... it's Dylan," came the low voice on the other end—strained, as if carrying the weight of the world. "Ember's safe now. How's she doing there?"
Zayne sighed, glancing once more at the bruised girl lying on the bed. "She's holding on. I just finished her full-body exam."
"That's good," Dylan replied. But his voice didn't carry relief—it was haunted.
Zayne didn't waste time. "Dylan... what the hell happened? She's got fresh bruises everywhere. Her body looks like it's been through hell."
There was a long silence on the line. Zayne could hear the faint sound of Dylan's breath hitching, but no explanation came.
"Can I get Ember's parents' number?" Dylan asked quietly, evading the question.
"Why?" Zayne's voice sharpened. "Why do you want to call them?"
"I need to talk to them," Dylan said, steady but distant. "About Ember. About us."
Zayne paused. "Did you ask her if she wants that?"
"No..." Dylan confessed. "But I know it's the right thing. She needs support, and if I can't be there every second, her parents should be. I won't let her go through this alone again."
Zayne narrowed his eyes. "Dylan, you're not thinking straight. She's been through trauma. If she finds out you went behind her back—"
"I'll take the blame," Dylan interrupted, his voice low and full of resolve. "But I'm not risking her breaking again. If you care about her, Zayne, you'll help me help her."
There was another long pause.
Finally, Zayne exhaled slowly. "Fine."
A moment later, a message buzzed onto Dylan's phone. The contact information for Ember's parents.
The call ended in silence, but the air on both ends felt heavier—as if something was about to change.