A gentle rain fell, misting the air as red maple leaves drifted to the ground.


    Beneath the shelter of a white umbre, M tilted her head, her eyes searching the man before her. Forrest''s handsome features blurred through the curtain of drizzle, yet somehow, he seemed more vivid than ever.


    Tears slipped down her cheeks.


    She opened her mouth, wanting to say so much, but all that came out was a broken sob. Her chest ached with tangled emotions-pain, longing, humiliation— swelling inside her until she could barely breathe.


    After a long pause, she managed just one sentence, her voice barely above a whisper, as if it took every ounce of strength she had left.


    She said, "Forrest, it hurts so much."


    It was the raw truth, stripped of pretense. She stood before the one person who''d seen her at her lowest-there was no point in hiding anything.


    Forrest''s eyes filled with sudden warmth and pain.


    Unable to hold back any longer, he crouched down and wrapped his arms around her-around this rain-soaked, trembling girl, shivering from cold and exhaustion. He gently rubbed her back, silent butforting.


    They held each other in the rain.


    Neither spoke.


    Yet in that embrace, M found afort deeper than words. The tension in her limbs began to ease, as if new life was being breathed back into her tired body.


    At the institute, in the break room.


    After a hot shower, M changed into fresh white clothes and sat quietly in a chair, towel in hand, still a little unsure of herself.


    "Forrest?" she ventured.


    He smiled kindly. "Just call me Forrest, or even ''brother'' if you''d like. That''s what you always called me before, remember?"


    He offered her a mug of warm milk, then-almost automatically-took the towel from her, intending to help.


    Flustered, M pulled away. “I—I can manage, thanks."


    Sensing her difort, Forrest didn''t insist. Instead, he handed her a hairdryer. "Dry your hair, or you''ll catch a cold."


    M nodded and did as he said.


    Once her hair was halfway dry, she took a cautious sip of milk. Warmth crept back into her frozen fingers.


    Now that her emotions had run their course, embarrassment crept in. She hesitated, then-partly out of curiosity from long ago-asked, "Why did you suddenly disappear back then? I... I worried about you for so long."


    Forrest''s expression softened. "When summer break ended, my family pulled me out of school and sent me back to Kingsford. It all happened so quickly, I never got the chance to tell you. Afterward, I never found a way toe back and find you. I''m sorry."


    M shook her head. "No, I''m the one who should apologize. I didn''t even recognize you."


    He smiled. "That''s on me. I never told you my name back then."


    Forrest hesitated, then said quietly, "The truth is, my parents had just divorced. They left me with my grandmother and wanted nothing to do with me. I couldn''t ept my family or my name. That''s why I never told you who I was."


    During those years, only M had introduced herself openly. Forrest had always stayed silent, so she''d simply called him "brother."


    She never imagined that was the reason.


    M stared at him, at a loss. “I—I''m sorry."


    Forrest let out a softugh.


    "My family drama isn''t your fault. Really, you were always braver than I was. If it weren''t for you, I might never have moved on."


    He smiled at her, eyes gentle. "Thank you, M."


    She flushed, embarrassed, and quickly changed the subject.


    "You know, you''re amazing. I was so scrawny as a kid, and now I lookpletely different. Yet you still recognized me. That''s incredible."


    Forrest met her gaze, his eyes brightening with a sudden, mischievous smile. "No matter how much you change, I''ll always recognize you."


    His words caught her off guard, and the intensity in his eyes made her look away, flustered.


    Then, Forrest''s tone softened. "M, has something happened to youtely? Has someone hurt you? You can tell me. I want to help."


    He wanted to know why she was hurting.


    But M didn''t know where to begin. Should she tell him she''d been forced into a rtionship, tricked, used as someone''s secret shame... or that she''d been crushed until she felt like nothing at all? Where could she even start?