Kai jumped on his motorcycle and took off like lightning. The wind rushed past him, but he barely noticed. His heart was pounding. He just wanted to get to the daycare, see his little brother and sister, make sure they were okay. But deep down, something didn't feel right. Something was wrong. He could feel it in his chest.
He hit the highway fast, but soon had to slow down. The traffic ahead was crawling.
"What the hell…" he muttered to himself, eyes scanning the rows of brake lights in front of him.
People were changing lanes slowly. Some had even stepped out of their cars. He noticed flashing lights in the distance—red and blue. Police. Ambulance. Fire trucks.
An accident.
Kai's stomach dropped.
The exit to the daycare was just ahead. He couldn't wait in this traffic. He began filtering through the cars, carefully but quickly. As he got closer to the accident, he started to see the wreckage. A few cars were damaged, but one car... one car was completely crushed. Its frame bent inwards. Windows shattered. The whole front end was smashed beyond recognition.
His hands started to shake on the handlebars.
No.
That car… it looked familiar.
No… please, no.
He got closer.
His heart was beating faster than it ever had before. He tried to tell himself it was just a coincidence, that it was just a car that looked like theirs.
Then he saw the license plate.
And his whole world collapsed.
It was his parents' car.
"No…" he whispered, his voice trembling, cracking. "No, no, no…"
His breath hitched, his throat tight. He pulled over to the side of the road and stumbled off the motorcycle, nearly tripping over his own feet. His legs felt weak. Cold fear washed over him like a wave.
He ran toward the scene, shouting at the first person he saw in uniform.
"H-Hey! Please!" he said, barely able to speak. His voice was hoarse. His lips were shaking. "The car… that car—it's my parents'. Please… where did they go? Which hospital?"
The worker turned to him, startled. "I'm sorry, sir—"
"Please!" Kai begged, his eyes wide and full of panic. "I need to know where they were taken. I need to get to them. Please!"
He ran from one responder to the next, asking the same question over and over again until finally, someone gave him the name of the nearest hospital.
"They were taken to St. Vincent's," a young paramedic said. "Just ten minutes from here."
That was all he needed to hear.
Kai turned and ran back to his motorcycle, took a deep breath—just one, to try to hold himself together—then started the engine and sped off.
The ride to the hospital was a blur. His thoughts were racing. He didn't even know what he was thinking anymore. Part of him was hoping it was all a mistake. That maybe they were just injured. That maybe they would be okay.
He parked the bike outside the hospital, jumped off, and rushed through the front doors. The moment he saw the woman at the front desk, he could barely form words.
"My parents," he said, his voice breaking. "They were just in a car accident—I think they were brought here. Please. I need to know where they are."
The receptionist looked up, saw his face, and gently stood. She came around the counter and guided him to a nearby waiting room.
"Please sit down," she said softly. "A doctor will be with you shortly."
Kai couldn't sit. He paced. His hands wouldn't stop shaking. His eyes were stinging. His mind kept repeating the same thing:
It can't be. It can't be.
A few minutes later, a doctor entered the room. A man in his forties with kind eyes and a heavy look on his face.
"Kai Chen?"
Kai nodded quickly.
The doctor sat down across from him.
"I'm very sorry," he began quietly. "Your father… he died at the scene. The injuries were too severe. We weren't able to revive him."
Kai stared at him.
No breath. No blink.
"And your mother was in critical condition when she arrived. We brought her into emergency surgery immediately. But…" He paused. His voice dropped even lower. "She lost too much blood before she arrived. We did everything we could, but… she passed away not long after getting here."
Silence.
The words floated in the air, heavy, dark, impossible.
Kai's mouth opened slightly, but no sound came out. His lips trembled.
"No…" he whispered. "No, you're wrong… they were just—"
He shook his head violently, trying to deny it. Trying to erase it. This couldn't be happening. Not today. Not now. Not ever.
"No, that's not… that can't be right. I just talked to them… I talked to them—"
His voice cracked.
And then, all at once, the dam broke.
The sobs came hard and fast. Loud, painful, deep from the chest. His whole body shook. He covered his face with his hands, trying to stop it, but he couldn't. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't think. All he could do was cry. No, sob. Like a child lost in the dark.
The doctor reached out, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. "I'm so, so sorry," he said again.
Kai didn't hear him.
His entire world had just shattered.
Just an hour ago, he had won his biggest race. The moment that was supposed to mark the beginning of everything.
And now… his parents were gone.
Forever.
He didn't even notice his phone vibrating in his pocket again.
He didn't notice anything anymore.
Kai didn't know how much time had passed.
He was still sitting in that small room in the hospital, the doctor long gone. The light was soft, the air still. His body felt heavy, like all the strength had drained from him. His eyes were red, but dry now—he couldn't cry anymore, even if he wanted to. His mind was numb. Everything felt distant, like he was stuck behind a thick wall of glass. Sounds, voices, the world—it all felt far away.
He didn't move. He didn't blink. He just sat there, staring blankly ahead, lost in a fog of pain and disbelief.
Only after the phone rang for what felt like the tenth time did someone finally speak to him.
A soft voice. Gentle.
"Excuse me…"
He turned slowly. A nurse was standing in the doorway, holding her hands in front of her. She looked kind, but cautious, like she didn't want to startle him.
"Your phone," she said softly. "It's been ringing. Maybe… maybe it's something important?"
Kai blinked. The words took a moment to sink in. Then he remembered—the daycare.
His eyes widened in sudden panic. He reached for his phone with shaky hands. The screen showed several missed calls. Daycare. Again and again.
He had forgotten. Completely. In the middle of everything, he had forgotten why he came here in the first place.
His brother. His sister.
His hands were still trembling as he opened his contacts and dialed. Not the daycare. First, he called a number saved as "Uncle Ji + Aunt Mei"—not real family, but close enough to be.
The moment they picked up, he barely managed to get the words out.
"Uncle Ji…" His voice cracked. "Something happened. It's my parents. There was… an accident. They're gone."
Silence.
Then, on the other end of the call, a soft, shaky gasp.
"Oh my god…" Aunt Mei said, her voice quiet but broken.
"I—" Kai forced himself to keep going. "I can't pick up the twins. I'm not... I'm not in any shape to. Can you—please. Can you go? Pick them up? Bring them home?"
"Of course," Uncle Ji said immediately. "Of course we'll go. Don't worry. Just stay where you are. We'll handle it."
Kai could hear it in their voices—they were shocked too. Hurt. Grieving. But they held back their emotions for his sake. They were trying to be strong, so he didn't have to carry more than he already was.
"Thank you," he whispered. "Thank you…"
He ended the call, then dialed the daycare. A tired but polite voice answered.
"Hello, Kai speaking. I'm so sorry I didn't answer earlier," he said. "Something… happened. My parents—there was an accident. They… they passed away."
The line was quiet for a moment.
Then the woman answered, her voice full of sympathy. "I'm so sorry, Kai. Truly. That's terrible news."
"I just called some family friends," he said, barely able to hold his voice steady. "They'll come and pick the twins up right away. Their names are Ji and Mei."
"Thank you for letting us know. We'll wait for them," she said kindly. "You take care of yourself, alright? We'll make sure your brother and sister are okay until they arrive."
"Thank you…"
He hung up.
A nurse returned shortly after and gave him a soft smile. "I know this is a hard time," she said gently. "But we need this room now. Would it be okay if you moved to the waiting area?"
Kai only nodded. He didn't have the strength to say anything more.
He stood up slowly and followed her down the quiet hallway. She guided him to a chair in a corner of the main waiting room and left him there with a small blanket and a cup of water he didn't touch.
He sat down.
He didn't cry.
He couldn't.
The pain was still there—deep, sharp, endless—but now it was quiet. Cold. Heavy.
He just stared ahead, at nothing. People passed by, nurses, visitors, doctors—but it all felt far away. Like they were in another world, and he was just floating outside of it.
He sat there for a long time.
Frozen in place.
Heartbroken.
Alone.
The sky outside had already turned a deep shade of blue. The hospital lights glowed softly in the hallways, giving the building a quiet, tired feeling. Time had moved forward, but for Kai, it still felt like it had stopped.
He sat in the waiting room, still staring into nothing, until slowly, he stood. His body felt stiff, like it wasn't his own.
He walked back toward the reception desk, his voice quiet and low when he finally spoke.
"Is it… possible to see them?" he asked. "Just… one last time."
The woman behind the counter looked up. Her eyes softened when she saw him. He looked completely drained—eyes red and hollow, clothes rumpled, movements slow and heavy. Her voice was gentle.
"Do you have permission?"
Kai nodded. "Yes. They said I could."
She gave a small nod, stood up, and said softly, "Please wait here for a moment."
He watched as she stepped away and spoke with someone further down the hall. After a few minutes, she returned and gave him a small, respectful smile.
"Come with me."
She led him down a quiet hallway, deeper into the hospital. The lights here were dimmer. Everything was still. The only sound was the soft hum of the lights above and the echo of their footsteps on the floor.
Finally, they stopped in front of a door. The woman gave a soft nod, then opened it gently.
Inside the room, two beds.
Kai's breath caught in his throat.
There they were.
His parents.
Lying peacefully. Still. Cold.
They didn't look like they were sleeping. They looked… gone. Truly gone.
And just like that, everything inside him broke again.
He had thought he had cried all he could. That his body had run dry.
But the moment he saw them, lying there with no life left in their faces—he felt everything crash down again. The grief came back like a storm. His knees felt weak, and he stepped slowly toward the beds, his legs shaking.
Tears poured from his eyes, warm and uncontrollable. He let out a sound—part sob, part breath—that hurt just to hear.
The nurse quietly stepped out and closed the door behind her, leaving him alone.
Kai stood there, tears streaming down his cheeks, then slowly dropped to his knees between the beds. He held onto the blanket that covered his mother's arm with trembling fingers. He reached out and gently touched his father's hand—cold and still. It was real now. No more hoping. No more waiting.
They were gone.
"Mom… Dad…" he choked out. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry…"
He cried for a long time. No one came in. No one disturbed him. The world was quiet, and for a little while, he was just a boy—grieving, broken, and alone with the people who had raised him, who had loved him more than anything.
Eventually, the storm inside him began to calm, though the sadness didn't fade. It just settled, deeper, quieter.
He wiped his face, still kneeling, still shaking. Then he sat up straighter.
"I promise…" he whispered, his voice raw but steady, "I'll take care of them. I'll take care of the twins. I'll raise them right. I'll give them a life that's full of love and laughter. I'll protect them, just like you protected me."
He paused, looking at their faces one last time.
His chest hurt as he spoke, but he forced himself to finish.
Racing didn't matter anymore. His dreams could wait. What mattered now were the twins. Even if he never felt whole again, he'd make sure they did. That was the promise.
"You don't need to worry anymore. I've got them now."
He bowed deeply, tears still dripping from his chin. His heart ached with every beat.
"Thank you," he whispered. "For everything. For all the love… for every little thing."
He slowly stood, holding onto the last seconds with them, then took one final look.
"Goodbye, Mom. Goodbye, Dad."
And with those words, he turned, walked to the door, and stepped out into a world that now felt different.
He had said goodbye.
But he wasn't alone.
Not really.