The slap echoed like a gunshot. My mother’s hand trembled, her eyes wild with shame. 'You think you can just walk away? You’ll go to the factory Monday, and we’ll fix this mess before anyone knows.' I touched my cheek, tasting blood from my split lip. The ultrasound photo was still in my pocket—crumpled, but safe.

I didn’t answer. There was nothing left to say. I packed a single bag while they slept, planning to vanish into the city again. But as I stepped onto the darkened porch, headlights cut through the rain.

He stepped out—Quan Xiuyan—in a tailored coat, hair soaked, eyes blazing. 'I’ve been looking for you,' he said, voice raw. 'They told me you were gone. But I found the clinic record. You’re pregnant. Our baby.'

He dropped to his knees in the mud. 'Let me protect you. Let me make this right.'

My breath caught. This man—barely more than a stranger—was offering everything I’d been denied. But could I trust him? Or was this just another chain?

Now I had to choose: run into the night alone, or take his hand and step into the unknown.