The man in the dark suit didn't wait for Adam to take the envelope. He pushed it into his chest with practiced force, his expression unreadable.
"You're expected before noon tomorrow," the man said, voice clipped. "Don't be late."
Without another word, he turned and walked briskly down the corridor, leaving Adam standing frozen with the envelope in hand.
Mina frowned, her hands twisting nervously. "Adam? Who was that?"
Adam shoved the envelope into his bag. "Nobody important."
"Don't lie to me." Mina's voice was sharper than she intended, born from days of raw fear. She softened quickly. "I mean… is it serious?"
Adam forced a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "It's fine. Just work stuff."
Mina stared at him, unconvinced, but she didn't press further. She had enough storms of her own.
Still, as Adam walked away that evening, she couldn't shake the image of his clenched jaw and the shadows in his eyes.
Back at his small apartment, Adam dropped the envelope on the table. He stared at it for a long time before finally tearing it open.
Inside was a formal letter stamped with the insignia of the company he had worked for before the accident—Danforth Logistics.
Adam's chest tightened as he read.
Outstanding debts remain unsettled following your accident and absence. Failure to resolve these matters will result in legal action and permanent blacklisting from industry opportunities.
Adam sank into the chair, rubbing his temples. His accident had cost him his position, his stability, and now, apparently, his future.
"Blacklisting…" he muttered bitterly. "As if things weren't bad enough."
For a long moment, he buried his face in his hands. He had promised Mina more than he could afford, and now his own life was unraveling faster than he could catch it.
But even as fear clawed at him, he thought of her face—the way her eyes had softened when she said he stayed, the sound of her laugh breaking through her tears.
He couldn't pull away now. Not when she needed him.
The next day, Adam arrived at the hospital again, his exhaustion hidden behind a practiced calm. Mina was there, as always, watching over her sister.
She turned as he entered, surprise flickering across her face. "You came."
Adam smirked faintly. "I said I would, didn't I?"
For a moment, she just looked at him, and then her lips curved into the smallest smile.
Mariam's condition had improved overnight—her breathing steadier, her responses clearer when Mina spoke to her. Relief filled the room like sunlight breaking through clouds.
Mina turned to Adam, tears bright in her eyes. "She's getting better. She's really getting better."
Adam nodded, warmth spreading through him at her joy. But beneath it, the weight of the summons pulled at his chest like chains.
Later, as Mina stepped out to buy water, Adam sat alone by Mariam's bedside. The girl's frail hand twitched against the blanket, her lips parting weakly.
Adam leaned closer. "Mariam?"
Her eyelids fluttered, and her faint voice broke through. "Don't… leave her."
Adam froze. "What?"
Mariam's voice was weak, but her words carried the force of a plea. "She… she needs someone. Don't leave my sister."
Adam's throat tightened. He swallowed hard. "I won't."
The monitor beeped steadily, her eyes closing again as she drifted back to sleep.
Adam sat back slowly, shaken. A promise to Mina was one thing. But now her sister, fragile and fighting, had bound him with words he couldn't ignore.
That night, Adam left the hospital later than usual, his steps heavy. He had to attend the meeting tomorrow. If Danforth carried through on its threats, he'd lose any chance of rebuilding his career.
But if he disappeared from Mina's side—even for a day—would she see it as abandonment? Would she ever forgive him?
Adam stood in the dark street outside the hospital, torn between duty and the strange, fragile bond pulling him toward a woman he barely knew.
He looked down at the letter again, its words like chains around his neck.
"Tomorrow," he muttered to himself. "Tomorrow, everything changes."
And for the first time, Adam wasn't sure whether change meant salvation… or destruction.