A Mother Draws Her Line
"Wait," Anna said softly, lifting her hand—not to silence him, but to calm the space between them, as if her touch alone could steady a storm. "Before you say anything… I have something to tell you first."
Victor stopped breathing for a heartbeat.
The room stayed the same, warm and quiet, but something inside him shifted sharply. A small knot of worry twisted tighter beneath his ribs. He studied her face, searching for a clue—for warmth, for reassurance, for anything that might tell him what direction this moment was about to take.
He found nothing.
Anna's expression held steady, calm yet impossible to read, like she'd shut every emotion behind a door she wasn't ready to open.
"…What is it, Mother?" he asked at last, his voice low, careful, almost afraid of the answer waiting on her tongue.
