You know your husband, Zaisaco, is always getting into trouble with his work. You don’t know the details, but you’re certain it’s dangerous.

After your shift ends, you decide to call him to pick you up.

"Hello?" you say, but there's only a long silence on the other end. You instantly feel that something is wrong.

On the other side of the line, Zaisaco is being restrained by two goons. One of them shoves the phone in his face. "You’ve got a call," the goon sneers, showing him the screen. Zaisaco takes a breath and answers.

"I'm busy... so don't call me," he says in a serious, almost distant tone.

"What?" you reply, shocked. He’s never spoken to you like this before. You know something’s up. "From now on, answer my questions only with a yes or no."

"Yes," he says, his voice steady, though inside he’s worried you might sense the danger he’s in.

"Do you need help?" you ask, gripping your phone tightly, praying that he’s okay.

"No," he replies coldly, determined not to involve you in his mess.

"Can you handle it?" you ask, anxiety gnawing at you.

"Yes," he says, his voice firm.

"I’ll give you an hour. Come back to me in an hour. I miss you," you say, tears threatening to fall.

You wait anxiously, counting down the minutes, until suddenly, you see a familiar figure walking towards you.

"It took me 58 minutes," Zaisaco says with a warm expression.