The car jolted along for ages. None of us spoke a word.

I kept a close eye on Lizi Sa, terrified she might not hold on and suddenly pass out. If that happened, I’d carry the guilt forever.

“This blunt-tipped arrow’s for sedation. Even if it hits the back, it won’t kill anyone,” Mom said suddenly, turning to me and handing it over.

I took it carefully, examined it for a moment. No idea how she knew this stuff—I couldn’t spot a single clue.

“Just a little longer. We’re almost there,” she added, glancing at me through the rearview mirror.

Thankfully, Lizi Sa’s breathing gradually steadied. The wound on her back had stopped bleeding, but the blood already soaked through had stained nearly half my school uniform crimson. After hours of sheer panic, my head felt foggy and heavy.

***

Ahead, a patch of light emerged—a campsite. The car rolled to a stop beside it. No buildings around, just open grassland.

The stranger stepped out and waved. Several people in white lab coats rushed over with a stretcher, lifted Lizi Sa onto it, and hurried her into a nearby tent.

The night wind bit sharp. Bloodstained or not, I pulled my uniform back on. Watching them carry her away, unease crept up my spine.

Five or six large tents stood scattered. Black cars lined the perimeter. A few figures in white coats sat by a campfire, keeping watch. The sedan’s headlights still glowed. Mom stood before the car, arms crossed beneath a black mink coat, silently watching Lizi Sa vanish into the tent.

Only then did I fully take in her outfit. That lavish mink-coat aura? On the street, I might not have dared claim her as my mom. Had she ever bought clothes like this? I’d never seen her dress this way—not once while growing up. How had she changed so drastically in just over ten days?

While I pondered, she turned, locked eyes with me, and walked straight over.

Beneath the mink coat: a sleek black dress. Slender, fair legs in round-toed black heels. Impeccable makeup. Hair pulled into a high bun, two face-framing strands, wispy bangs radiating quiet elegance. She exuded cool grace and quiet nobility.

“Are you really okay?” she asked, stepping closer to check me over. Thank goodness I’d already passed the e-cigarette to Lizi Sa—I could meet her gaze without flinching.

“I’m fine, really,” I said with a weak smile, stepping back two paces. I frowned. “Wait—why are you dressed like this? Last month you said we were in a financial crisis and had to cut back on everything!”

Curious, I brushed a finger over the coat’s fur. “And now you’re wearing real mink? Is this even real?”

Mom listened, then glanced toward the tent where the stranger was calling out. “Long story. It’s freezing. Let’s go inside first.” She took my hand and led me toward the tent.

I couldn’t remember the last time we’d walked hand in hand. Normally, I’d feel weird and pull away instantly. But right now? I didn’t want to let go. That warmth was an irreplaceable calm. For the first time all day, I felt safe.

***

Inside, the tent was spacious. A heater hummed, washing us in gentle warmth. Dim light. The three of us—me, the stranger, Mom—sat around it.

“Let me introduce you,” Mom said, gesturing to the man.

My stomach dropped. *Please don’t say he’s my new stepdad.* I’d been wondering where this whole glamorous look came from. With her looks, landing a rich guy wouldn’t be hard… But no. I trusted her. I’d witnessed her and Dad’s love my whole life.

“This is your uncle, Yan An. Go ahead and greet him.”

“Uncle?” I let out a silent sigh of relief, though surprise flickered as I glanced at him. Mom never spoke of her family. Never. This was the first I’d heard of an uncle. Instinctively, I offered a quiet “Hello.”

Uncle Yan An nodded cheerfully, his smile warm and sincere—likely just the natural ease of a younger brother beside his sister.

***

“Never mind ‘little brother’—oops, *Uncle*… Guess what I ran into today?” I burst out, excitement bubbling. So much to tell—I’d go step by step.

Mom raised a hand in a “pause” gesture, nodding calmly. “I have a rough idea. I’ve been on edge all day.”

“You *guessed*?” I blinked.

“Let me talk now. It’s time you knew some things.” She shifted closer, draping the mink coat over my shoulders. “So—how’s the ‘rich lady trial pass’ treating you?”

“Huh? Just tell me already!” I urged, pulling the coat snug around me, eyes wide with anticipation.

Instead of speaking, she looked at me, smiled—a relieved, tender smile—and pulled me into a tight hug.

I knew that scent instantly. Same favorite perfume. Dad’s gift.

***

“Thank goodness you’re safe…” Her voice trembled with a hint of tears.

Uncle must’ve sensed we needed a moment. He quietly slipped out of the tent. I still hadn’t heard him say a single word.

***

I was bursting with questions—countless puzzles crowding my mind, answers I desperately needed. But I understood her too. If she’d known I might be in danger… I remembered that serial killer’s photos. How frantically I’d worried for Mom, alone at home. That’s family. When someone you love is in peril, that fear pierces straight through you.

“So… why didn’t you call me?” I whispered.