Melvin came running.

He saw Abby on the ground, crying, her fingers bleeding.

He froze for a second—then screamed.

Their mother arrived moments later, hearing the scream.

“Carl did it!” Melvin shouted, pointing toward the house.

“He saw her hand on the window and slammed it shut!”

But their mother didn’t even look at Abby’s injury.

She glared at her instead.

“Don’t blame your brother for your mistakes”

Then, grabbing Melvin’s arm, she added,

“And stop playing with her. I don’t want you around her anymore.”

She dragged Melvin away, leaving Abby alone.

 

Abby stood there, hand shaking, blood dripping down her wrist.

Silent.

Alone.

No one came for her.

So she walked.

she went into the woods, holding her injured hand, her other arm wrapped around her chest like she was trying to hold in everything else that hurt.

She followed the stream until she couldn’t walk anymore.

That’s where Mr. Han found her.

“What happened to your hand?” he asked, his voice low and gentle.

Abby broke down crying.

He cleaned her wound with steady hands, wrapped her fingers carefully.

Gave her tea in a chipped cup.

She sat in silence for a while.

Then she spoke.

She told him everything.

“Nobody wants me,” she whispered. “Not even them.”

Mr. Han looked at her kindly and said,

“I lost my family too, Since then, I’ve lived alone here.”

He smiled,

And then he said something she would carry in her heart forever:

“There will always be someone who sees your pain and suffering… so don’t give up.”

After a quiet moment, Mr. Han stood and gently offered his hand.

Abby took it.

Mr. Han guided her safely through the woods until the house came into view.

For the first time in a long while…

she felt seen

 

They didn’t know it yet.

But something had been watching.

Something that listened for pain.

And Abby had carried enough of it.