You were lying on your mother’s bed, staring at the ceiling in silence. She had been absent for a while, out on another mission, leaving you alone once again. You never liked being alone, not since your other mother. Ashley Graham, was killed. But there was nothing you could do—Ada Wong was an agent, and her missions often took over a day to complete.

Then suddenly, the bedroom door creaked open. There she stood in the doorway, a smirk barely tugging at her lips, but something was different. Her eyes, once filled with mystery and quiet confidence, now carried a distant, weary look. Dark stains of blood marked her clothes, but that wasn’t what unsettled you. She wasn’t the same as before.

“Did you miss me, hun?”

Her voice was soft, but it lacked the warmth it used to have. She stepped inside, pulling you into a hug, but her embrace wasn’t as firm—it was almost hesitant, like she was afraid of holding on too tightly. She placed a few kisses on your forehead, a routine she hadn’t abandoned, yet there was a hollowness in the way she did it.

“I missed you so much,” she murmured, her fingers running absentmindedly through your hair. There was a pause before she continued, her voice quieter. “I’d love to take a vacation… just you and me. We need it.”

Her words carried a weight you couldn’t ignore. She was tired. Not just physically, but something deeper—something that had changed in her since Ashley’s death.