Trust is a dangerous thing

River

The shrill ring of River's phone cut through the air, shattering the silence of his apartment. He hesitated for a moment, recognizing the number on the screen – his father. With a sigh, River reluctantly answered, bringing the device to his ear.

The voice on the other end carried a tone of disappointment, a weight that settled heavily on River's shoulders. His father's words dripped with disdain, expressing how Mei had uncovered their secrets and shattered their carefully crafted plans. Each sentence was a verbal lash, a reminder of the expectations River had failed to meet.

As the call ended, River felt a deep sense of frustration and weariness. He stood in the silence that followed, the weight of his father's disappointment echoing in his mind. The realization of how entangled he had become in his father's shadow gnawed at him.

Seeking solace, River turned to the simple routine of a shower. The warm water cascaded over him, washing away the physical and emotional residue of the day. The rhythmic sound of water droplets echoed in the tiled space as River's mind swirled with conflicting thoughts.

In the solitude of the shower, droplets of water dripped from River's dark hair, his reflection staring back at him in the misty mirror. He leaned against the cool tiles, reevaluating his choices, contemplating a future free from the suffocating grip of his father's expectations.

Yet, as he reached for a towel, the clarity of purpose struck him. He couldn't escape his father's influence by merely walking away. The only way to break free from the perpetual cycle of manipulation and deceit was to confront it head-on. The goal to liberate himself from his father's schemes became a beacon in the tumult of his thoughts.

With renewed determination, River emerged from the shower, a fresh resolve etched on his face. He dressed in crisp attire, a white shirt paired with a dark blue coat – an armor of his own choosing against the challenges that lay ahead.

As he stepped into his room, the phone rested on the nightstand, its screen lighting up with the name "Mei." A decision crystallized in his mind. He needed to face Mei, lay his cards on the table, and perhaps find an ally in the chaos he had unwittingly unleashed.

With a few deliberate taps on his phone, River composed a text to Mei: "Can we meet?" The message hung in the air, a digital signal of his intent to confront the web of secrets and choices that had ensnared him. River waited, the anticipation building as he prepared to face Mei, hoping that this meeting might be a turning point in his quest for freedom.

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