At first Jian Ci believed them. Believed Yu Xi when he said he was with their grandfather, believed Jian Rui when he brushed off his questions, believed Jian Wei when he claimed there was nothing to worry about. But over time, the cracks showed. The absences stretched too long, the silences too heavy, and the answers too rehearsed.
He could never ask outright. Every time he tried, the words stuck in his throat. Still, the feeling gnawed at him. It felt like he was being left out of something. It was like they were part of an inner circle and he was excluded.
He had tried to piece it together, watching, listening, searching for clues. But he found nothing.
Now, as the lab door slid shut in his face, he stood there like an idiot. His hand half-raised, his protest caught in his chest. The sound of the door locking echoed like a final verdict.
