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"Ma, please, I beg you. This won't take long," Gibran pleaded again. He assumed that Yuna's shock was due to sharing in the pain he felt from what Vanya had done to him.

"Give me some time to think. This is too sudden," Yuna immediately reached for her wheelchair. Without seeking Gibran's assistance, she tried to get onto the wheelchair herself.

"Ma..." Gibran stopped Yuna and gently lifted her, then placed her on the wheelchair. He sat on the floor before her.

"Please don't be angry, Ma," he implored.

"Give me some time to think. Time to gather the courage to reopen these old wounds. Not about you, but about me."

"What do you mean, Ma?"

"Take me to my room. I need time and courage to reopen these wounds that have never healed," Yuna's vacant gaze pulled her back into the past. A time when her youth was shattered abruptly. She would need immense strength to share those memories with Gibran.

"Alright, Ma. I'll wait until you're ready. And I hope this won't be a burden on you. If you do