Jean sat there, gripping Emma's hand as if to anchor her back into this world, she silently vowed. Never again would she let Emma suffer because of her battles.
Jean let the silence stretch just long enough for Emma to breathe, her thumb brushing gently over Emma's hand. Then, her eyes lifted to meet Emma's, softer but weighted with worry.
"Emma… I need to ask you something."
Emma's lashes fluttered; she looked fragile, but in her eyes was a flicker of resolve.
"When Henry brought you here… was it because you're running from someone?" Jean's voice trembled slightly. "Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you tell Uncle Morris? What happened that made you so afraid?"
Emma swallowed hard, her gaze dropping to their joined hands, as if gathering courage from Jean's warmth. Her voice came out hoarse, each word scratching through her dry throat.
"Jean… I didn't run because I wanted to disappear. I ran because I couldn't trust… anyone else."
