The rain hadn't stopped. It painted the city in melancholy brushstrokes, the sidewalks shimmering under streetlights, the gutters whispering with runoff. Yu Bin walked quickly through the soaked streets, her boots splashing through shallow puddles. Every footstep felt heavier than the last. Her hand clutched her phone, thumb hovering over the number she had dialed a dozen times already.
It rang once. Then silence.
He knows.
He's scared.
Or… maybe he's already running.
She inhaled deeply and turned down a quiet street. At the far corner stood a café with fogged windows and a hand-painted sign that flickered with age. The scent of rain mixed with old coffee beans greeted her as she stepped inside.
The warmth was immediate—but her eyes were sharp.
There he was.
Slumped in the far booth, hood drawn low over his head, a full cup of untouched coffee in front of him. His fingers trembled slightly. Not from cold. From guilt.
Yu Bin approached slowly, her steps soft but certain.
"Good evening," she said, voice calm but firm.
The young man looked up. For a second, he was startled—then simply tired. "Detective Yu… I figured you'd come."
"Mind if I sit?"
He didn't answer, just gestured toward the empty seat. She slid in across from him.
"You saw the footage?" he asked, his voice low.
"Yes. I saw it."
She kept her tone steady. "I also heard what the neighbors said. They spoke kindly of your mother. But about your father…"
He flinched, jaw tightening.
"They don't know the half of it."
"Then tell me," she said, gently. "Tell me what really happened."
For a long moment, silence stretched between them. Around them, the café buzzed with distant laughter, the clinking of cups, the soft hiss of the coffee machine. But at their table—only stillness.
Finally, he exhaled. It sounded like something had broken inside him.
"I went home to check on her. He wasn't supposed to be there. She told me he was out of town. But when I opened the door… he was yelling again." His voice cracked. "She had bruises. New ones."
Yu Bin's heart squeezed, but she didn't speak.
"I snapped. I pushed him. He wasn't even looking at me. He was going after her again. And I just—" He covered his face with his hands. "He fell down the stairs. It wasn't supposed to happen like that."
Her voice was soft. "Why didn't you come forward?"
"She made me leave," he whispered. "Said the world would believe her, not me. That she'd take the blame."
"She was protecting you," Yu Bin said, eyes narrowing.
"She always has."
He looked up at her. "But I didn't mean to kill him. I just wanted him to stop hurting her."
Her hands rested on the table, fingers curled slightly.
"If you truly want to protect your mother," she said, "you'll tell the truth. She's facing prison for something she didn't do."
His eyes filled with tears. "What do I need to do?"
---
Across town, Moon and Xian Chen stood outside a small apartment complex, the front porch worn by time and storms. They knocked gently, and the door creaked open.
Mrs. Lee stood there, pale and exhausted. Her eyes were swollen from lack of sleep—or tears. Or both.
"We need to speak with you, Mrs. Lee," Officer Moon began, voice quiet.
"I already told you everything," she replied, not meeting their eyes.
Xian Chen stepped forward. "No, ma'am. You told us what you wanted us to believe. But we know your son was there. We've seen the footage. We spoke to the neighbors."
Her hands trembled. Still, she said nothing.
"You weren't the one who pushed him," Moon said softly. "Were you?"
A long pause. Her breath caught.
Then—barely a whisper—
"I couldn't let them take him. He's my baby…"
"He's a man now," Xian Chen said gently. "And he's ready to face what happened. But he needs you to stop carrying it alone."
She lowered herself into a chair as if her bones no longer had the strength to hold her. A sob escaped her lips.
"I didn't want his life to end before it began. He's… he's not like his father."
"No," Moon agreed. "He's not. Let us help."
---
Back at the station, Yu Bin stood beside the window, watching the rain streak down the glass like silent grief. Behind her, the boy—no, the man—was finishing his written confession. Each word he wrote was heavy with consequence, but necessary.
Finally, he stood.
"It's all there," he said, voice hollow.
Yu Bin took the paper from his hand. "You did the right thing."
"Doesn't feel like it."
"It rarely does," she replied. "But your mother… she'll be proud of you."
He looked away, blinking fast. "She always said I had his anger. I used to hate that."
"You're not him," Yu Bin said firmly. "You proved that today."
The door opened.
Moon stepped in. "She's here."
Moments later, Mrs. Lee entered, escorted by Xian Chen. Her eyes searched the room—and softened when she saw her son.
"Mom…" he whispered.
She didn't hesitate. She crossed the room and pulled him into her arms.
"No more apologies," she said. "We carry this together now."
Yu Bin looked away. Her chest was tight—not from pain, but from something harder to name. Justice wasn't always loud or clean. Sometimes it was just a hug in a quiet room.
---
Later that evening, the rain had stopped.
Steam rose from tea cups in Yu Bin's office. Moon leaned back in his chair. "Another mystery solved."
"It wasn't about solving it," Yu Bin said quietly. "It was about stopping the silence."
Xian Chen popped a snack in his mouth. "Still… boss instincts on point, as usual."
She smiled faintly.
"Will the son go to jail?" he asked, voice dropping.
"Most likely not," Moon answered. "Voluntary manslaughter under emotional distress. The court will consider his age, the abuse, and the footage."
"He didn't plan it," Yu Bin added. "It wasn't malice. It was years of fear that snapped."
A pause. Then Xian Chen sighed.
"It's sad. A whole family had to fall apart before anyone said anything."
Yu Bin stared into her tea. "That's how it is sometimes. People carry pain until it breaks them."
Moon set his cup down. "But this time, someone listened."
She nodded slowly.
"And next time… maybe we'll be there sooner."
---
Later, she stood alone at the back entrance of the station. The sky was clearing. A sliver of moonlight broke through.
She closed her eyes.
Master... if you're watching… I did it. Not perfectly. But I tried.
Her phone buzzed.
A message from the district attorney:
"Case officially closed. Well done, Detective Yu."
She smiled faintly and whispered into the night:
"Thank you."