Wang's Pov.
"Have you made any progress?" my dad asked, sipping slowly from his glass.
I stared into mine, the amber liquid still untouched.
"Nothing yet," I said, the sadness creeping back into my voice. "It's been five years... and still nothing."
He didn't say anything—just waited, the way only someone who's seen enough of life learns to do.
"You let me use the military database," I continued, voice quieter now, "face recognition, every entry log at the Canadian border. It all stopped the moment he got there. It was like... he vanished."
I ran a hand through my hair, the weight of that silence pressing down again.
"I sent someone to check the house," I added. "The one we were supposed to live in together. The one he picked."
I looked up, meeting my dad's eyes. "It was sold two days after he arrived in Canada. No forwarding address. No trace. Not even a receipt left behind."
He nodded slowly, listening.
"No sign of his grandmother. No Ji Li. No Mia. It's like they all just... evaporated. Like they never existed."
My dad finally spoke. "Maybe someone helped him disappear."
I sighed, bitter. "Maybe. Or maybe he just didn't want to be found."
That truth always sat like broken glass in my chest.
"If it were me," my dad said, setting his glass down, "and I'd been betrayed, used, and discarded the way Zhan was made to feel... I'd disappear too."
I looked away.
"But," he added, "if he's gone this far, then it means you meant everything to him. You don't run like that for someone you didn't love."
I closed my eyes.
Love wasn't the problem.
It was what I did with it that ruined everything.
I hated parties.
And today, we are here—at this loud, glittering event with everyone, including my five-year-old daughter tugging at the sleeve of my suit jacket, her eyes wide with curiosity and exhaustion. She doesn't understand why we're here. Honestly, neither do I.
I waited until she was born before I started looking for Zhan.
Maybe it was guilt. Maybe it was a shame. Or maybe, deep down, I needed proof that something good could come out of the wreckage before I dared to face what I lost.
And here we are.
Five years later.
No trace. No whisper. No flicker of him anywhere.
"Why do we come to these boring places, Daddy?" she asked, hugging her stuffed wolf closer to her chest.
I gave her a tired smile. "Because sometimes, sweetheart, being an adult means doing things we hate."
She gave me a disapproving look—her mother's attitude, my eyes. I brushed a strand of hair out of her face, letting my fingers linger for a moment on her cheek and she went to the cake table.
She didn't know it, but every part of me had been waiting for Zhan to come back—if not to me, then maybe to see her. Maybe to know her.
But nothing.
"Wang," my brother's voice cut through the music as he approached, drink in hand. "You've been on edge all day."
"I hate parties," I muttered, standing up. "And this one feels worse than most."
My eyes trained on my daughter as she twirled with cake-stained fingers, free and unaware of the heartbreaks that built the world around her.
My eyes scanned the room—not for anything specific, just a habit now. A ritual. I never knew what I was looking for... until I saw her.
Time seemed to stutter.
There, by the far side of the room near the dessert table, was someone I hadn't seen in five years.
Mia.
The same Mia who used to bring us breakfast in paper bags and drag Zhan out of his sulking moods with nothing but sarcasm and bubble gum.
I stood, barely noticing the glass slipping from my hand and hitting the floor with a soft clink.
And then I was walking—straight through the crowd, past everyone, past the years between us.
"Mia?" I said, disbelief wrapping around her name like a prayer.
Her head snapped toward me.
"Wang?" Her voice trembled before she rushed forward and threw her arms around me.
I froze for a heartbeat, then hugged her back tightly. She smelled like a different country now. Like spices and lavender and a place I'd never been.
When she pulled back, her hands still gripped my arms like she needed to confirm I was real.
She smiled—but then her eyes moved past me. Her smile faltered.
"Where's Zhan?" she asked.
"Zhan?" I asked again, disbelief thick in my voice.
"I should be asking you that," I added, my brows furrowing as I looked at her closely.
My heart began to ache.
"What do you mean?" she asked, and immediately took my arm and gently pulled me away from the people nearby, toward a quieter corner.
"The last time I saw Zhan was five years ago. At the airport. He said he was on his way to Canada," I said, each word laced with the sting of memory, my heart now thudding harder against my ribs.
"What do you mean?" she asked again, confusion rising in her voice. "I don't understand."
I stepped back slightly, searching her face. "Why did you ask me where Zhan was?"
Her lips parted in a breath. "Because... he called us. On video. Dre was with him."
I blinked. "What?"
Mia nodded, slower this time, as if she, too, was starting to realize something wasn't adding up. "He said he wasn't coming. That he was going with you. That he'd be offline for a while because you both didn't want your mom on your heels."
My vision blurred.
The ground didn't feel solid anymore.
My heart dropped to the bottom of my stomach like a stone in water, and a cold fear—one I hadn't felt in years—wrapped around my chest like a noose.
"Mia... I didn't go with him. I never saw him again after that day. I stayed. I— I thought he left."
Mia stepped back, her face going pale. "No. No, no, no, Wang... He said you came. He told us you both were finally free."
My mouth opened, but no words came.
If Zhan didn't make it to Canada... If he wasn't with his family...
Then where the hell was he?
And who—who—lied to us?
"How long are you in town?" I asked, my voice tight like it hurt to even speak.
"Two weeks," Mia replied. "I'm at the Carlton Lodge."
"I'll be there tomorrow morning," I said flatly, with no room for argument.
Then I turned and walked away.
I didn't wait for her response. I couldn't.
My heart was pounding, not with excitement—but panic. Pure, bone-deep panic. Each beat thundered in my ears, loud and unrelenting.
I stumbled through the hallway, ignoring everyone, the music, the laughter. My skin felt too tight for my body like I was wearing something that didn't fit anymore.
Scarred.
That's what I was.
Not just emotionally. No. The years had left marks on me that no mirror could fully show. My smile never reached my eyes. My laugh always came a second too late. My hands trembled when I wasn't paying attention.
I had trained myself to live without him. Built walls, brick by bloody brick, to survive the emptiness.
And now? One sentence from Mia, one truth I never saw coming—and every brick began to crumble.
Someone lied.
And Zhan... Zhan had trusted me.
He had gone missing thinking we were going together. That we were going to be free.
And I failed him.
My breath caught in my throat as I reached the bathroom and gripped the washhand sink to stay upright. My vision swam.
Had he waited for me somewhere?
Had he searched for me?
Had he cried—alone—wondering why I never showed?
I clutched at my chest, right where the necklace used to rest... and for the first time in years, I felt it again.
That helpless, soul-deep pain that only Zhan could touch.
Tomorrow couldn't come fast enough.
Because now I needed answers.
And I needed to find him.
Before it was too late.
I calmed myself—at least enough to wear the mask again—and made my way back to the table where my dad sat, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. He looked up as I approached, his eyes narrowing slightly like he could already tell something was wrong.
My mom and Lusi were still on the dance floor, laughing like the world hadn't cracked in half years ago. Like none of this mattered.
I sat beside him, reached for his drink, and took a long swig. It burned beautifully, just the way I needed it to.
Then I turned to him, my voice low. "Mia said she saw Zhan. Five years ago. On a video call. He said we were going together—that we didn't want Mom on our heels. Dre was with him."
Dad's face shifted—concern clouding his usually calm features. "Are you sure?"
"She can't lie about something like this," I said firmly. "Not Mia."
He went quiet for a moment, then nodded slowly. "I'll speak to your mom. But don't say anything to anyone yet. Not until we're sure."
"Okay," I murmured, rising to my feet again. "I need to be alone."
He didn't try to stop me. Just gave me that rare, understanding nod only fathers give when they know their child is barely holding it together.
The night stretched endlessly after that.
I locked myself in my room, lights off, the soft buzz of the city below doing nothing to fill the gaping void inside me.
I checked again—Zhan's name, photos, and every online trace I could find. Still nothing. No tags. No recent sightings. His digital footprint stopped exactly where I'd last known it to.
It was as if he had been swallowed by the earth.
"Where could you have been?" I whispered into the dark, staring at the ceiling. "Where did you go, Zhan?"
No answers.
Just silence.
And a storm inside my chest.
I got to Carlton Lodge early the next morning, barely able to sleep through the night. Every second that passed without an answer felt like a weight pressing harder on my chest.
The lobby was quiet—too polished, too cold. I walked up to the front desk, my pulse loud in my ears.
"Good morning, sir. How can I help you?" the receptionist asked politely.
"I'm here to see someone. She checked in recently—her name is Mia," I said, hope flickering in my voice.
The woman typed something into the system, then looked up, confused. "I'm sorry, there's no one under that name."
"She's here. I spoke to her yesterday," I insisted, anxiety creeping in.
"I'm sorry, sir. There's no one under that name," she repeated.
I blinked. My stomach dropped slightly. "Maybe she used a different name. Please..." I reached into my pocket, pulled out my phone, and scrolled until I found an old photo of Mia, taken years ago. I turned the screen toward her. "Her. That's her."
The receptionist frowned, leaned in, then nodded slowly. "Oh... I recognize her now, but that's not the name she checked in with."
"Please," I said, my voice breaking at the edges, "just call her. Tell her Wang is here. She'll know me."
She hesitated, then gave a small nod and picked up the phone. A few words were exchanged quietly.
Moments later, the elevator dinged, and Mia rushed into the lobby, her face flushed and her eyes wide.
"Wang!"
I exhaled a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding.
She hurried to me, hugging me again, this time tighter.
She pulls me to sit in the reception area.
"What happened? You sold the house?" I asked my voice tight with disbelief.
Mia nodded. "Yes. Zhan sent us money that day—one million dollars. Told us to sell the house, move, and change our names. Said it was for the best."
My heart thudded in my chest.
"We agreed," she continued, her voice soft. "We moved to Australia. Grandma was... happy, to say the least." She gave a small, wistful smile. "She thought it was finally a chance for us to start over."
I tried to process that—Zhan orchestrating everything so carefully. Erasing every trace.
"Why are you here?" I asked, trying to steady myself.
Mia sighed, rubbing her arms. "My fiancé wanted me to meet his mom. They were supposed to come to the party. But neither showed up. I had the invite and didn't want to sit at the hotel feeling sorry for myself." She looked down, her voice falling quieter. "Didn't think I'd run into you."
"I'm glad you came," I said honestly. "Even if everything feels upside down again."
She gave a small nod.
"How's Ji Li? And Grandma?" I asked, bracing myself.
Mia's eyes lit up slightly. "Ji Li's married now and expecting their first baby. Grandma is fine, still bossing us around and calling everyone dramatic." She laughed softly. "We all live together."
A part of me relaxed hearing that. At least they were okay. At least Zhan kept his word—he protected them.
I reached for her hand. "I'll look for him, Mia. I swear to you. But... don't tell Grandma anything for now. Please."
Mia studied me for a second, then nodded. "Okay. I won't say anything."
We sat there in silence for a few minutes. The kind of silence that holds everything words can't.
But my mind was racing.
Zhan had planned all this. Vanished so perfectly that even military databases couldn't find him.
What was he running from?
And what kind of life had he built in the shadows?