The silence lasted long enough for Ying Rui to glance down at his phone again.
The feed hadn't stopped. Mo Yuxin was still standing beside the bed, staring at Mao Mao, while the boy pressed close to Jua's chest. Through the speaker, Ying Rui could hear his son's uneven breathing.
He was almost home. He checked the road ahead and pressed harder on the accelerator.
Mo Yuxin's lips parted, but nothing came out at first. She looked at her son as though she was waiting for him to take back what he had said. When he only tucked himself closer to Jua, her face crumpled.
"You…" Her voice shook. "You think that? You think I would—"
Mao Mao's fingers tightened in Jua's shirt.
Her gaze dropped to his hands. Something in her expression changed.
"You."
She reached for him before Jua could move away, caught his upper arm, and pulled.
Mao Mao cried out. His grip slipped from Jua's shirt, and Jua leaned forward to catch him, but Mo Yuxin had already dragged him to the edge of the mattress.
