"Come on, sweetheart," her mother said gently, her fingers still wrapped around Mia's small hand.
Her voice softened, carrying the familiar tone she used whenever she wanted something badly.
"This is what you've always wanted, right?
A comfortable life.
Your uncle Richard and I will provide everything for you.
The best clothes, the best food, the best schools. You won't ever lack anything."
Mia didn't answer immediately.
She slowly lifted her eyes from her mother's face and looked toward her father.
Daniel stood a few steps away, silent, his hands clenched at his sides.
He wasn't speaking, wasn't interrupting, but his eyes said everything his mouth could not.
They were fixed on Mia, filled with fear, hope, and a quiet, desperate plea.
Please… say no.
Mia felt it. She felt the weight of both of them pressing down on her small chest.
Her mother's hand was warm and firm, holding her tightly as if afraid she might slip away.
