The Fear Behind the Helping Hand.

People sometimes find themselves desperately in need of help, but in this life, not everyone is willing to extend a hand. And those who do often come with their own hidden motives, leaving us anxious and fearful, wondering if accepting their help will only lead to more pain.

The door opened, and Mia stood beside it, holding it open for the doctor to enter. Her expression was so serious that the doctor's heart raced with fear. His eyes darted frantically between Mia and Alex, pleading for mercy.

Alex stood frozen, confusion clouding his mind as he watched the scene unfold. His fists clenched at his sides, a mix of anger and pity surging through him. The doctor, trembling with terror, dropped to his knees and clutched Alex's foot, sobbing.

Please help me! Please, young man, I still have a family to take care of! the doctor cried out, his voice cracking as tears streamed down his face. Alex swallowed hard, not knowing what to do next, torn between his instinct to protect and the fear gripping him.

Mia, can we talk first? Alex's voice wavered as he blocked the doctor, his hand trembling as he grabbed Mia's hand and tried to pull her into the doctor's room. But Mia, with a sinister smirk playing on her lips, held tightly onto the doctor's hand, making Alex's efforts difficult. His breath hitched as he noticed her smirk aimed directly at him, her eyes glinting with something dark and unsettling.

Alex's heart pounded in his chest, and he stopped in his tracks, his eyes widening in fear as he realized Mia was pulling the doctor along with her, dragging him like a lifeless puppet.

A guard approached, but the moment he saw the fury etched on Mia's face, his courage evaporated. He froze in terror, eyes wide, and quickly retreated to his seat, not daring to take another step forward.

The doctor, trembling violently, felt his life slipping away as the door behind him closed with a final, ominous click. He looked around frantically, his gaze landing on the nurses. Their faces were streaked with tears, their eyes filled with horror as they watched the scene unfold, too terrified to intervene. His blood boiled beneath his skin, a wave of dread washing over him as he realized he was utterly alone.

The man in the black coat, tall and broad-shouldered, had been standing at the far corner of the street, as if he was heading somewhere. His face was partially hidden, shadowed by the upturned collar of his thick wool coat. Beneath the coat, he wore a fitted black sweater and dark trousers that highlighted his lean, muscular build. His boots, scuffed but sturdy, made a faint sound against the pavement as he moved. The dim streetlights cast long shadows, and the distant hum of the city at 5:00 AM was the only sound that accompanied him. The night was still, with only a few cars passing by, their headlights briefly illuminating the quiet, almost deserted street.

An older lady called out from a nearby doorway, her voice breaking the silence. Hey, you seem to be in a rush. Where are you off to?

He stopped, turned slowly, and tapped her on the shoulder. I'm going nowhere, he muttered, a hint of irritation in his voice. Some crazy person... Don't mind me.

Seeing her weariness, he softened. You seem tired. Let's go back so you can rest some more. His voice was so comforting that the old lady, without resistance, nodded in agreement. He gently helped her back to her bed, where she lay down with a sigh. The room was dimly lit, the only light coming from a small lamp on the bedside table. Outside, the streetlights glowed faintly through the window, casting a soft glow on the walls. Before drifting off, she gazed at him and whispered, Make sure wherever you go, you come back soon, her voice tinged with concern, knowing deep down that he had lied earlier.

He reassured her with a soft smile and stayed by her side until she peacefully fell asleep. After a moment, he turned his head to glance at his phone, the light from the screen briefly illuminating his face in the darkened room. Slowly, he stood up, making sure not to wake the sleeping old lady, and quietly closed the door behind him as he left, stepping back into the quiet, cool night of 5:00 AM

The next morning, at 11:00 AM, the same man stood by the window of a small café, sipping his coffee. The sunlight streamed through the glass, illuminating his face, now free of shadows. His coat was draped over the back of a chair, revealing the crisp white shirt he wore underneath. The street outside was lively, with people going about their day, cars honking in the distance, and the warmth of the late morning sun casting a golden hue on everything it touched. The same man who had walked through the cold, quiet night now seemed different—relaxed, almost at ease, as he watched the world move around him.

Hey, I didn't do anything! The guard's voice trembled, his wide eyes darting around as if searching for an escape.

Hey, hey, easy! Why are you having a panic attack? Breathe in slowly, a stranger in a mask soothed, his voice calm but firm. He placed a steady hand on the guard's shoulder. Easy, okay?

The guard's breath hitched, his chest heaving as he tried to calm himself.

Now, tell me, why does it seem like someone has died here? the masked man asked, his tone sharpening with suspicion.

What is happening? Is this really a hospital? He glanced around, unease flickering in his eyes as he took in the sterile, yet eerily quiet surroundings.

She... she... The guard's hand shook violently as he pointed down the hall, his face pale and drenched in sweat.

She? She who? The masked man leaned in closer, his gaze piercing as he scanned the guard's terrified expression.

She's crazy. We haven't felt at peace ever since she came here, the guard whispered, his voice barely audible, as if speaking her name would summon something dreadful. His eyes were wild with fear, darting nervously toward the end of the corridor.

The masked man followed his gaze, his footsteps echoing ominously as he walked toward where the guard had pointed.

As he drew closer, he saw Mia, collapsed on the floor, her whole body trembling. Her hands, pale and cold, clutched the ground as if it were the only thing anchoring her to reality. Her sudden, desperate movements startled the doctor and Alex, who had been standing nearby, lost in their own thoughts.

Mia's head was bowed so low that her hair fell forward, a dark curtain hiding her face from view. The sight was unsettling, like something out of a nightmare.

The doctor and Alex exchanged looks of confusion and concern. Alex, hesitant but compelled by empathy, bent down to help her, his hand hovering just above her shoulder. But before he could touch her, Mia's hand shot up, halting him with a trembling, yet firm gesture.

The doctor instinctively stepped back, fear creeping into his usually composed demeanor.

Doctor, I'm truly sorry for my previous behavior, Mia's voice was barely a whisper, trembling with guilt and sorrow. I can't lose him. That's why I may have treated you so poorly. I'm sorry, she repeated, her voice cracking with the weight of her anguish.

Slowly, she lifted her head, revealing tear-streaked cheeks and eyes swollen from crying. The raw emotion in her gaze was almost too painful to witness. Thank you so much, she added, her voice choking with emotion as she lowered herself into a deep bow, her body shaking with the effort.

As she slowly straightened up, she wiped away the tears, her hands unsteady. And if by chance I find my mother injured, I'll bring her to you. I hope that will be okay with you, she said, her voice soft but resolute.

She turned and walked away, leaving the doctor and Alex staring after her, their faces frozen in shock, as if they had just witnessed something beyond comprehension.

It's a good thing she's so unpredictable, Alex finally muttered, his voice tinged with a mix of disbelief and relief.

Wait, so I'm still alive? I'm alive? the doctor murmured, as if saying the words aloud would make them real. His hands trembled slightly as he watched Mia's retreating figure.

Alex, his curiosity and concern piqued, followed Mia as she moved through the hall, still wearing the bloodstained, torn dress. The stark daylight pouring through the windows only made her appearance more surreal. People stared at her, but she walked on, oblivious, or perhaps indifferent, to their stares.

A masked man, who seemed oddly familiar, caught her eye. Her gaze narrowed in suspicion, but the fear of what might still happen to her mother pushed her to look away quickly. She hurried her pace, her heart pounding with urgency.

Mother, your daughter is coming, she whispered fiercely to herself, her voice filled with determination and dread as she quickened her steps.

Mia! Alex called out, his voice laced with desperation as he sprinted to catch up with her.

The masked stranger, concealed in the shadows, whispered her name, Mia…

Startled, Alex slowed his pace, his eyes darting around until he spotted a figure lurking in the shadows.

His heart pounded. Wait, why am I hiding? he thought, clenching his fists. This is ridiculous. The.masked man muttered.

Stepping out from the shadows, Alex's gaze fixed on Mia. She was standing rigid, her fists clenched at her sides as she confronted the man he had been hiding from.

I said, don't follow me! Go your own way! Mia snapped, her voice trembling with barely restrained rage. She spun on her heel, her eyes blazing, and as she turned, her hair whipped across Alex's face. He flinched, momentarily disoriented by the sudden change in her demeanor. Just moments ago, she seemed calm, but now she was a storm of fury.

People around them started to slow down, their eyes drawn to the escalating confrontation. Let's go to the car, Alex said softly, raising his hands in a placating gesture, trying to defuse the situation. But Mia wasn't listening. She shoved his hands away, her voice rising, her words sharp as knives.

See how you look right now? Alex suddenly exploded, his own anger boiling over. He grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to face him. You're still drenched in the inspector's blood, Mia! And you talk about leaving it all behind? People will call you a madwoman, a 'mad lady!' His grip tightened as he spoke, his eyes locked onto hers, challenging her defiance.

Mia's jaw clenched, her entire body trembling with fury. She yanked herself out of his grasp, her chest heaving with each breath. I don't care, she spat, her voice cold and venomous. And you shouldn't care about me.

I don't care? Alex repeated, his voice cracking with frustration. He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. I have humanity, Mia. This town—it means everything to me, and despite how much you push me away, I still care about you. But no one else will! So drop the attitude and come with me!

Mia's glare was like a dagger, her eyes narrowing as she fought the urge to strike him. Her hands balled into fists at her sides, but the energy to keep fighting was draining away. Alex saw her falter, and with a heavy sigh, he grabbed her wrist, pulling her towards him. Without warning, he lifted her into his arms, carrying her in a bridal style.

Let me go! Mia screamed, her fists pounding against his chest. She kicked and writhed, but Alex held firm, his jaw set, his muscles tensed with the effort of restraining her. Damn you, Alex! she cursed, her voice breaking as tears of frustration welled in her eyes. But she was too tired to keep fighting, and eventually, she slumped against him, her anger giving way to exhaustion.

This is some wild drama, a bystander muttered, shaking his head at the spectacle. Others began to whisper, but when Alex shot them a deadly glare, they quickly turned away, embarrassed by their curiosity.

Oh, women… another grumbled under his breath, retreating into the crowd.

The masked man, who had been silently observing from a distance, narrowed his eyes, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. Mia, you haven't changed at all, he murmured, his voice barely audible over the murmur of the dispersing crowd.

As people began to leave, the masked man debated whether to follow Mia and Alex but quickly dismissed the idea. No, I have more important things to do, he decided, slipping away into the shadows and vanishing into the night.

In the car, Mia broke the silence with a sharp edge in her voice. Why do you help me? she demanded, her eyes narrowing as she fixed a piercing stare on Alex. I don't know you, and you don't know me, so why bother? Her voice wavered between anger and vulnerability, a mix that was hard to ignore.

Alex's face remained stoic, but he could feel the weight of her gaze pressing on him. His grip on the steering wheel tightened, his knuckles turning white. Despite the tension, he refused to look at her, keeping his eyes firmly on the road. The silence between them grew heavier, and Mia, frustrated by his unwillingness to respond, let out a deep sigh. She leaned back in her seat, closing her eyes in a gesture of defeat. Why is he helping me? she mumbled, her voice barely audible. The fatigue was evident on her face; dark circles underlined her eyes, and her tears had left red streaks on her flushed cheeks.

Alex wrestled with his own frustration, his jaw clenching as he wrestled with the same question. Why am I helping her? he thought angrily. The answer eluded him, and it only added to his internal turmoil. Stealing a glance at Mia, he saw her exhausted, sleeping face. She looked peaceful now, but it was a stark contrast to her usual volatile self. She's like a chameleon, he thought bitterly, his smirk tinged with both pity and confusion.

Outside the car, the view was serene, but inside, the atmosphere was charged with unresolved emotions.

Back at Jake's place, his frustration boiled over during a phone call with his mother. So, you want me to come home? he asked, his voice tight with anger. Why? His tone was both defiant and resigned.

Ah, no, I'm busy, he protested, but his mother's voice was firm and unyielding. She cut him off abruptly, demanding he come home immediately before ending the call without giving him a chance to respond.

Jake stared at the phone, his face a mask of anger and confusion. Nicky and James, sitting nearby, exchanged concerned glances.

Man, you should go. You know how she is, Nicky said, frustration evident in his voice as he sank back into the couch.

Yeah, I agree, James added, his expression reflecting a mixture of sympathy and resignation.

Jake, however, remained steadfast. But I want to look for Mia,he said stubbornly, his determination clear despite the growing tension and confusion inside him.