Su Nian woke with energy buzzing through her veins.
Morning sunlight spilled across the floor, warm and familiar, carrying the quiet sounds of movement from the kitchen. She slipped into her slippers and hurried downstairs, her steps light.
"Ma—ma!" she called. "What's for breakfast?"
Her father looked up from the table. "Good morning."
"Papa!" she said brightly.
She crossed the room and wrapped her arms around her mother's waist. "Good morning, Mama." Then she bent, resting her hands gently against her mother's belly. "Hi, baby. Hurry up and come out. Your big sister is waiting."
Her mother laughed, the sound soft and full.
"I'll take care of the house from now on," Su Nian added seriously. "I'll even change your diapers. Daddy can cook."
Her father laughed without hesitation. "If you're in such a good mood, I'll make my special dish just for you."
Su Nian's eyes lit up. "Really?"
The kitchen filled with voices, with warmth, with the smell of breakfast.
She did not know then that this would be the last time it felt this way.
A week later, everything broke.
When her mother discovered the affair—discovered it was her own friend—the house turned unfamiliar. Voices rose behind closed doors. Something struck the wall. Su Nian stayed where she was, frozen, listening to sounds she did not yet have words for.
After that, the bedroom door stayed locked.
Her mother cried from morning until afternoon. Su Nian stood outside the door, calling softly, until her own voice failed her.
Later, her mother called out and asked her to buy an energy drink. The request sounded distant, as if it had traveled through something heavy before reaching her.
When Su Nian returned, the door opened slowly.
Her mother was on the floor.
There was blood. Too much of it.
Su Nian's hands shook as she opened the drink and tried to help her mother sit up. She called for her father, her voice breaking, but the house answered only with silence.
Her mother stopped her. "Don't," she said quietly. "He's gone."
Su Nian did not understand at first. Not until her mother spoke again—about betrayal, about running away, about a man capable of worse than she had believed.
The words settled slowly, painfully.
She wanted to scream for help. She wanted the neighbors, the street—anyone. But her mother asked for water instead.
So Su Nian ran.
She washed the blood away with trembling hands. She helped her mother stand. She walked her to the hospital herself.
The distance felt endless.
At the hospital, Su Nian registered her mother alone. When the doctor asked what had happened, she opened her mouth—but her mother spoke first. She said she had fallen down the stairs. Her voice was calm. Too calm.
When asked where her husband was, she answered without pause. "He's away on business."
They stayed for two days.
At night, Su Nian sat beside the bed, watching the drip fall steadily into her mother's arm. She pressed a hand against her chest to quiet her breathing. She did not cry out loud. She did not sleep.
Her father never came.
In the morning, she wiped her mother's face and went home to prepare breakfast, pretending this was still a normal life.
When the doctor returned, he said her mother was no longer in danger. Then his tone changed. Stress must be avoided. Something like this must never happen again.
Su Nian nodded.
She understood then that nothing would ever be the same.