The next morning dawned gray and heavy, the kind of sky that made even the air feel watchful. Meilin hadn't slept a moment. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the black car — silent, unmoving, patient.
When Rui left for work, he kissed her forehead and said, "I'll be home early. Stay inside today, okay?"
She nodded, but her heart wouldn't settle.
As soon as the sound of his car faded, she walked to the window again. The same dark vehicle was there — across the street, half hidden behind a tree.
Meilin's fingers trembled as she reached for her phone. She almost called Rui… but stopped.
He had done enough protecting.
This time, she wanted to face her fears herself.
She slipped on her coat and stepped outside.
The cold wind bit at her face. The driver's window of the car rolled down slowly, and a man in a black cap looked out.
"Mrs. Jiang?" he asked, his voice calm, polite — too polite.
"Who are you?" she demanded.
The man smiled faintly. "I have a message from Mr. Li Chen."
Her stomach turned. "Tell him I don't want to hear anything from him."
He nodded, as though expecting that. Then he handed her a small, sealed envelope. "He said you'll want to see this."
She hesitated — then took it. The car drove away immediately, leaving a trail of dust and silence behind.
Back inside, Meilin locked the door and tore open the envelope. Inside was a photograph.
Her breath stopped.
It was Rui — talking to another woman outside a restaurant. The woman's hand rested briefly on his arm, and the camera angle made it look far too intimate.
On the back, a note was written in neat handwriting:
> "Are you sure the man you trust is as honest as he seems?"
Her heart thudded painfully. She knew Rui. She trusted him. But Li Chen's trap was too clever, too precise. The doubt crept in like smoke — impossible to ignore completely.
That evening, when Rui came home, Meilin tried to act normal. She set the table, helped Xiaoya with homework, smiled like nothing was wrong. But he noticed.
"You're quiet," he said gently.
"Just tired," she replied too quickly.
He studied her face for a long moment, then pulled her into his arms. "Whatever it is, you can tell me."
Her throat tightened. She wanted to. She wanted to throw the photo at him, to demand the truth — but a deeper voice whispered inside: What if it's a lie? What if you hurt him again for nothing?
So she said nothing.
That night, as Rui fell asleep beside her, Meilin lay awake, staring at the ceiling. The photo burned in her drawer, like a hidden fire threatening to spread.
> "You won't win, Li Chen," she whispered into the darkness. "Not this time."
But outside, parked under the same old cherry tree, the black car returned.
And this ti
me, the man inside wasn't just watching — he was smiling.