It was just another quiet afternoon. The sun hung lazily over the campus, and the chatter of students drifted faintly through the open window of my hostel room. I was halfway through typing an assignment when my phone buzzed—a message from Darcie.
"Your parents are here… like, right now. And they look serious."
My fingers froze on the keyboard. My parents never just showed up. If they were here, it meant something had stirred them up—probably my health. I'd told them I'd been unwell, but I hadn't gone into detail about how bad it really got. Maybe Warren's warning that parents always find out wasn't so wrong after all.
I shoved my laptop aside, pulled on my sneakers, and grabbed my bag. The walk across campus felt longer than usual. My heart was thumping, not from the rush, but from the thought of my mother's expression when she learned I'd been hiding the truth.
The faculty entrance came into view, and there they were. My mum in a simple floral dress, her brows drawn tight with worry, scanning the crowd as if I might vanish again. My dad stood beside her in his usual quiet, watchful way, hands in his pockets, his eyes fixed on me the moment he spotted me.
"Hazel!" Mum's voice was tight, relieved, and just a little accusing. She didn't wait—her arms wrapped around me so fast, I almost stumbled. She smelled like home—warm, familiar, safe.
"You didn't tell us it was this bad," she whispered against my hair, her voice trembling.
"I'm fine now, Mum. Really." I tried to smile as I pulled back, but her frown told me she wasn't convinced.
My dad stepped closer, looking me over like he was checking for cracks. "Your mother almost booked the first flight here when she heard. I had to convince her to at least let us drive."
Mum swatted his arm gently. "Convince? You were the one packing first."
That almost made me laugh. Almost. "I'm sorry," I said softly. "I just didn't want you to worry."
"That's our job," Mum replied, brushing a strand of hair from my face. "To worry."
I hesitated, glancing over my shoulder—and spotted Warren coming out of the administration building, tall and steady as ever. He caught my eye and gave a small nod, the kind that said you good? I suddenly felt the need for them to know him.
"There's… someone I want you to meet," I said, turning back to my parents.
They followed my gaze as I waved Warren over. He walked with that calm, unhurried pace, the sun catching in his hair.
"This is Warren," I said when he reached us, feeling warmth bloom in my chest. "He's the one who helped me that night—took me to the hospital and stayed until I was safe."
Mum's eyes instantly glistened. She stepped forward and took his hand in both of hers. "Thank you," she said, her voice thick with gratitude. "You don't know what you've done for us."
Warren gave one of his calm, almost shy smiles. "Just glad I was there," he said simply.
My dad gave him a firm handshake. "You've earned yourself a friend in this family."
I stood there watching the three of them, the knot in my chest loosening a little. For the first time in weeks, I felt… safe.
"Have you two eaten?" Warren asked, glancing at my parents.
"Not since breakfast," Dad admitted.
"There's a place not far from here," Warren said, turning to me. "Best grilled fish on campus. We could walk."
My parents exchanged a quick look, then nodded. And just like that, we were walking together, the tension melting into small talk. Mum asked Warren about his studies, his family, and what he wanted to do after school. He answered politely, but every now and then, he'd sneak a glance at me as if making sure I wasn't tiring out.
At the café, Mum insisted on paying despite Warren's protests. The food came quickly—plates of fish, chips, and cold drinks. My parents laughed more than I expected, especially when Warren teased my dad about not knowing how to use campus payment apps.
"She's lucky to have friends like you," Mum said once the plates were cleared.
"I'm the lucky one," Warren replied, his voice light but his eyes holding mine for just a moment longer than casual.
When we finally walked back toward the hostel, the air was cooler, and the shadows had stretched long. My parents hugged me again, lingering like they didn't want to let go.
"We'll call tonight," Dad said, patting my shoulder.
"And every night after that," Mum added.
I smiled, waving until their car disappeared down the road. Warren stayed beside me until I turned back toward the hostel.
"Thanks," I said quietly.
"Anytime," he replied, his hands in his pockets, a small smile on his face.
As I watched him walk away, I realized that introducing him to my parents had felt… right. And maybe, just maybe, it was the first step in moving forward.
As night settled over the campus, the day's noise faded into a distant hum. The streetlights cast pale pools of light on the walkway, and a cool breeze slipped in through my window. I sat cross-legged on my bed, replaying the afternoon in my mind—the way Mum's arms felt around me, Dad's quiet pride, and Warren's steady presence like some unshakable anchor.
I'd spent the evening answering my parents' calls and a flurry of messages from Darcie and Matilda, all curious about the unexpected visit. My replies were short, but inside, I felt… lighter.
Before sleeping, I texted Warren a simple thank you again, not expecting a reply. But it came almost instantly:
Always. Sleep well.
With that, I curled under my blanket. For the first time in weeks, I didn't dream about pain or fear. Just the soft echo of laughter from lunch and the quiet comfort of knowing that—maybe—I wasn't as alone as I thought.