Giselle snapped out, didn't waste another second, charging forward and grabbing Winter by the back of her shirt, pulling her away with a strength she didn’t even realize she had.

Winter stumbled back, her grip on her father loosening as Giselle yanked her into the middle of the room. They tumbled backward, Giselle's arms wrapped tightly around Winter as she dragged her to safety.

Winter's breaths came out in jagged gasps, her body trembling as adrenaline and exhaustion overtook her. She wiped at her cheeks with her bloodied hand, trying to keep herself steady, but her hands shook with the effort.

Across the room, Mr. Kim struggled to his feet, bracing himself against the wall, his face twisted in anger as he spat and sneered. His hand reached out, pointing accusatorily at Winter, his drunken rage reigniting as he stumbled forward, mumbling slurred curses and accusations.

Giselle turned, stepping in front of Winter, her expression hardening as she squared up to him.

In one swift motion of pure adrenaline and rage within, Giselle’s fist clenched, her jaw tightening as her patience snapped. She swung her arm back and drove her fist forward, landing a solid punch squarely against his jaw.

The impact was immediate—his head snapped back, his body slumping as he fell backward, landing on the ground in a heap, knocked out cold. Giselle’s hand throbbed from the force of the punch, but she ignored it, turning back to Winter.

Winter's face was streaked with silent tears, her expression a mixture of defiance and despair. Her shoulders shook as she tried to hold back more tears, her lips pressing into a hard line.

Giselle stepped forward, wrapping her arms around Winter and pulling her into a tight embrace, whispering,

“It’s going to be okay.” She gently rubbed Winter’s back, feeling her shudder against her chest as she tried to steady her breath.

But before Giselle could say anything more, Winter pulled back, wiping her face once more with a quick, almost robotic swipe of her hands. She straightened her posture, a determined look hardening her gaze as she turned, walking briskly towards the bathroom. Giselle followed, her stomach twisting with worry.

Inside, Winter splashed her face with cold water, rubbing her skin with trembling fingers until the redness faded, wiping away the blood and the tears. She breathed in slowly, her eyes closed, gathering herself.

When she finally looked up, her face was a blank canvas, her features carefully composed, as if she’d forced every emotion back into hiding. She turned to Giselle, her voice steady but hollow.

“Can you drop me at the exam hall?”

Giselle nodded without a moment’s hesitation.

“Of course.”

Winter gave a single nod, then moved past her, picking up her bag from the floor and brushing off the dust with quick, purposeful movements.

Without another glance at her father, she strode to the door, her pace heavy and quick, Giselle trailing closely behind.

Outside, Giselle took in the sight of Mr. Kim, still sprawled on the floor, before letting out a sigh and hurrying after Winter.

She climbed into the driver’s seat, glancing at Winter, who had crossed her arms tightly, her gaze fixed on the road ahead, her face as hard as stone.

Giselle wanted to say something, to reach out and offer comfort, but the words sat thick in her throat, unspoken. Now wasn’t the time, and she knew Winter needed her strength in silence.

Giselle gripped the wheel, her mind racing with unspoken fears, but as she drove, she kept her focus steady, glancing only occasionally at Winter’s profile—a figure of resilience, anger, and quiet pain beside her, holding herself together with all the strength she had left.

_

Winter stepped out of the exam hall slowly, each step feeling heavier than the last. Her mind was foggy, drained from hours of wrestling with words and equations, though now all of it felt irrelevant.

She barely registered the stone steps beneath her as she descended, her gaze unfocused, hollow. Her face was blank, a numbness settling over her that had nothing to do with the brisk winter air pressing against her skin.

Around her, students surged forward in laughter and relieved chatter. Some threw their arms around each other, celebrating with tearful hugs, while others grinned with the satisfaction of having conquered another challenge. The cheerful chaos swirled around her, but Winter moved through it all as if in a slow-motion bubble, detached from their joy, from their relief, from everything.

A chilly breeze swept through, prickling her cheeks and nipping at her nose, but Winter barely flinched. She stopped at the bottom of the steps, her gaze lingering on the ground.

The setting sun cast a rich, golden light across the campus, painting everything in a warm glow that felt almost painfully bright against the bleakness she felt inside.

She watched her breath condense in soft white clouds in the air, her mind replaying moments from the exam—questions half-answered, blanks filled with fragments she could barely remember. It felt so far away now, insignificant, like a small piece of a puzzle she no longer had the energy to solve.

She raised her head, her tired, hollow eyes scanning the distance almost mechanically, until she froze.

Just a few meters away, framed by the soft light of the setting sun, stood Karina.

For a moment, Winter thought she was imagining things. The way Karina looked, standing there, bathed in golden light, her face soft and warm, a gentle smile lighting up her eyes—it all felt surreal, like a scene plucked out of a memory too beautiful to belong in the present.

Karina’s gaze held something Winter hadn’t felt in a long time: warmth, comfort, an unspoken promise of safety. A glimmer of hope that Winter barely dared to believe in.

Winter blinked, feeling the heaviness in her chest falter, her mind too weary to process the warmth that began seeping in. She gave her head a small shake, half-expecting Karina to disappear like a mirage.

But Karina didn’t vanish. She stayed, her gaze unwavering, her eyes glinting with that gentle, familiar sparkle that had always seemed to pull Winter from the darkest places.

Karina’s lips curved into a beaming smile, her eyes crinkling with laughter as she took a step forward.

And before Winter could fully register what was happening, Karina broke into a run, closing the distance between them in seconds. She threw her arms around Winter, the force almost knocking them both over. Winter stumbled slightly but found her balance, her senses jolted awake by the feel of Karina pressed against her, warm and real.

Winter’s arms lifted instinctively, wrapping around Karina as if holding on for dear life. Karina’s face nestled into her neck, her breath warm against Winter’s skin, carrying the scent she’d missed so painfully.

“I missed you,” Karina murmured, her voice a quiet balm against Winter’s raw edges.

For a moment, Winter could only stand there, stunned and silent, her grip around Karina tightening. She felt her walls cracking, the pressure she’d bottled up for so long finally finding release. Her chest began to ache, and before she knew it, a tear slipped free, followed by another, then another, each one spilling with all the exhaustion, loneliness, and fear she’d held onto in silence.

Karina noticed the tremor in Winter’s shoulders and leaned back just enough to meet her gaze. Her own eyes softened, and without a word, she brought her hand to Winter’s cheek, her thumb brushing away the tears gently.

“It’s okay, love,” she whispered, her voice tender and reassuring.

“I’ve got you.”

Winter’s resolve shattered, a soft, choked sob escaping her as she buried her face into Karina’s shoulder. Her hands clutched at Karina’s shirt, grounding herself in the warmth, the familiarity, the steady beat of Karina’s heart that pulsed so close to her own.

Every unshed tear, every unspoken worry poured out in waves, her sobs raw but quiet, muffled against Karina’s embrace.

Karina held her close, one arm wrapped securely around Winter’s waist while the other moved to rub soothing circles on her back. She rocked them gently, whispering words of comfort that Winter barely heard but somehow felt, each one sinking into her like a heal on bruised skin. Karina’s fingers brushed through Winter’s hair, her touch tender and unhurried, giving Winter the time she needed to let it all go.

Slowly, Winter’s sobs softened, her breathing evening out as the weight she’d carried for so long lifted, leaving only a soft, lingering ache. She pulled back slightly, meeting Karina’s gaze, feeling the warmth that radiated from her eyes.

Karina gave her a small smile, a gentle one that held nothing but understanding. Winter’s heart swelled, the words of reassurance echoing in her mind, grounding her, pulling her back from the loneliness she’d been drowning in.

With a shaky breath, Winter whispered, “Thank you.”

Her voice was barely audible, but Karina’s smile grew, her hand moving to cup Winter’s cheek again. She leaned forward, pressing her forehead gently against Winter’s, their breaths mingling in the chilly air.

Karina’s fingers traced lightly over Winter’s cheek, brushing away the last of her tears.

“You’re never alone, Winter,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “Not while I’m here.”

They stood in the fading light, the golden hues casting a soft glow around them, and for the first time in a long while, Winter felt her heart settle.

Wrapped in Karina’s embrace, she allowed herself to believe, even if just for this moment, that maybe everything would be okay.