“And?” Xiaojun asked the very second the front door closed behind them.
His voice was careful, controlled in a way that betrayed how much he already feared the answer. He had been standing in the living room the entire time, arms crossed tightly in front of his chest, as if physically holding himself together. The atmosphere in the house had shifted the moment the four returned—heavy, suffocating, like the air before a storm.
Without saying a single word, the two youngest immediately rushed past him, their steps quick and uneven as they headed upstairs. No teasing, no casual comments, not even a glance back. That alone was wrong. Terribly wrong.
Xiaojun turned his head, watching their retreating backs, his jaw tightening. They never reacted like this. Ever.
Slowly, he looked back at the two oldest, searching their faces desperately—hoping for anything. A raised eyebrow. A small nod. A silent it’s okay.
But instead, both of them shook their heads.
Just barely. Almost imperceptibly.
Xiaojun swallowed hard, his eyes darting once more toward the staircase before returning to them. His heart began to pound louder in his ears, each beat heavier than the last. He searched their eyes again, slower this time, more desperate.
There had to be something.
A misunderstanding.
A bad coincidence.
Anything but the truth forming in his chest.
But the answer didn’t change.
No matter how long he looked.
They shook their heads again—this time more clearly, more decisively.
And that was when the hope started to crack.
Xiaojun’s shoulders dropped as if something inside him had finally given up holding them in place. He exhaled sharply, the sound shaky, almost broken, and for a brief moment he pressed his fingers into the bridge of his nose, trying to ground himself.
Around him, the room slowly filled with tension.
Lucas straightened from where he had been leaning against the couch, his usual relaxed posture gone in an instant. Hendery stopped mid-step, his playful expression dissolving into confusion and unease. Jungwoo’s brows knitted together, his lips parting as if he wanted to ask something—anything—but no sound came out.
WinWin remained eerily still, his eyes fixed on the two as if he were watching something he didn’t want to understand. Yuta’s jaw tightened, his arms crossing instinctively, while Johnny felt a cold knot form in his stomach, a familiar dread creeping up his spine.
No one spoke.
No one dared to.
“She’s gone,” one of them finally said, his voice low, strained, as if saying it any louder would make it real.
The word hit the room like a physical blow.
“She didn’t just… leave,” he continued, shaking his head slowly. “It looks like there was a fight. The house—” He paused, swallowing hard. “The house was a mess. Furniture moved. Doors damaged. Things on the floor that shouldn’t have been there.”
Lucas took a step forward. “A fight?” he repeated, disbelief dripping from his voice. “Are you sure? I mean—maybe someone broke in and she scared them off? Or—”
“No,” the other interrupted quietly. “This wasn’t a random break-in. Someone was looking for her.”
Silence fell again.
