“How long did you think you could hide?” Tseng asks, glancing up as you walk into your house. Your son—No, his son is cradled safely in his arms. The baby makes little cooing sounds.

His hold on the baby tightens. “To deny me my own child.” He’s irritated at your little stunt, but he’ll overlook it as long as you come back with him. He’s going to raise his son; you’re not stopping him. Tseng knows you don’t like the danger it puts you and the baby in, but he already promised to protect you.