The family of four stood in stark silence, the air around them heavy with unspoken grief and fear. Catherine’s anguish hung over them like a dark cloud, a palpable presence that muted the world. Yuyong’s body trembled as she clutched Ruwen’s arm, tears cascading down her face like a relentless torrent. Each sob felt like a rupture in their fragile family unity, as if her pain was a reflection of the deep-seated fractures within their lives.
The somber atmosphere seemed to thicken as they made their way to the car parked under the oppressive gray sky. Ruwen, his heart pounding in his chest, made a swift decision to leave the capital. “We need to go back home,” he said, his voice taut with urgency. The prospect of lingering felt unbearable; every moment spent in the capital was a reminder of their vulnerability. The idea of flying rather than driving brought him a measure of comfort. It meant speed—an escape from the memories that threatened to engulf them.