Dylan hesitated for a long moment, the weight of what he was about to do pressing heavily on his chest. He glanced at Ember, still unconscious, her pale skin glowing under the dim light. His jaw tightened. She needs this... he reminded himself. Then, with trembling fingers, he dialled the number—her parents.
The line clicked.
"Hello? Who's there?" a stern, unfamiliar voice answered. Ember's father Ishaan.
Dylan straightened his back, steadying his voice. "Hello, sir. Am I speaking with Ember's father?"
"Yes, you are. Who is this?" the man asked, suspicion clear in his tone.
"My name is Dylan. I'm calling from Country C. I… I need to talk to you about Ember. It's important. If possible, could her mother also be present?" Dylan's voice softened, respectful yet urgent.
There was a pause. Then the man responded, "If you say so… Rose, come here. There's a call about Ember."
A woman's voice echoed faintly in the background. "Coming!"
Moments later, they were both seated, the call placed on speaker.
"So, tell us, young man," her father said cautiously. "How do you know our daughter?"
Dylan's gaze flicked to Ember once more, his eyes briefly filled with an emotion he couldn't mask—fear, admiration, and something deeper. Love, maybe.
"My name is Dylan," he began, his voice thick with emotion. "I met Ember a few months ago… in July. I found her unconscious —in my garden. She had somehow arrived in my city, thousands of miles away from you. At first, she thought it was her dream, or some strange accident… but we soon discovered the truth."
He took a breath, steadying himself.
"When Ember sleeps in your city, she wakes up in mine. Somehow… she teleports through her dreams."
There was a stunned silence.
"You're telling us…" her father said slowly, "…when she sleeps here, she wakes up in your place ."
"Yes, sir. Every night." Dylan's voice turned serious, protective. "But it's not just that. Something's changing in Ember. Her body is starting to… react. She's experiencing symptoms that can't be ignored. Ember has hemophilia now. If she bleeds, it could be serious—even fatal. And the sudden shifts between our worlds cause her severe headaches—sometimes enough to make her collapse."
Her mother gasped. "That can't be true. Our daughter never had anything like that before. How—how is this happening?"
Dylan's voice broke slightly, the stress slipping through. "I know it sounds insane, but please… ask Dr. Zayne. He's been monitoring Ember's condition with my doctor friend here. He has her latest medical records. I contacted him before I called you."
There was silence on the other end, but Dylan could hear the shallow breathing, the fear creeping into their voices.
"Do you have any proof that you're with my daughter?" Ember's father asked, his voice sharp with suspicion. "Because she never mentioned anything like this to us."
Dylan's heart pounded. He couldn't blame them for their disbelief. Who would believe a story this surreal? Still, he stayed composed.
"Yes, sir," Dylan began, his voice low but steady, "I understand how unbelievable this all sounds. But Ember and I have been trying to uncover the truth behind what's happening to her. We've found that her teleportation… it's somehow connected to a strange celestial event—a star that appeared in the sky the exact night she arrived in my world."
He hesitated, then added, "There was also a similar case recorded years ago… in another country. A man. Same symptoms. Same mystery."
He took a breath, his protective instincts flaring as he looked at Ember lying peacefully in his room.
"If you need proof that Ember is truly here with me," Dylan continued gently, "I can send you photos of us together."
There was a pause on the line. Then Ember's father replied, "Go ahead."
Dylan quickly sent the pictures—moments captured in warm light: Ember laughing beside him in his garden, her hair tousled by the wind, her eyes shining with unspoken wonder; another of her trying to cook a traditional dish, a shy smile on her lips as she held up a honey bottle; and one more—of her asleep on the couch, curled up, fragile and soft under a blanket he had tucked around her.
The silence that followed was long. Then Ember's father spoke, his voice quieter now. "You… you know Dr. Zayne?"
"Yes, sir," Dylan answered. "Ember told me about him. I've been in contact with him too." He swallowed hard, guilt creeping into his tone. "And I… I need to confess something. The injury to Ember's leg—it was because of me."
He closed his eyes, the memory vivid. "She had cooked a traditional dish from your country. It was spicy—way too spicy for me," he said with a soft, almost fond smile. "When she offered me honey to cool the heat, the bottle slipped from her hands… and shattered. A piece of glass cut her leg."
His voice dropped with regret. "Because of her hemophilia, she didn't heal like a normal person. It took too long. It hurt her badly. And I couldn't stop it."
There was a pause.
Then Ember's mother's voice came, gentle and filled with emotion. "It's not your fault. She's always been clumsy… ever since she was a little girl." Her voice cracked. "But why wouldn't she tell us? Why hide all of this?"
Dylan's voice was choked when he replied, "I'm so sorry, Auntie. I truly wanted to take care of her. I tried… every time. But I failed. In so many ways, I failed her."
While taking he get inside the room , where ember was laying on the bed . His hand reached for Ember's, curling his fingers around hers as he whispered, "But I won't fail again. I swear… not this time."
"Child, stop blaming yourself," Ember's mother said gently, her voice trembling through the phone. "How old are you, anyway?"
"I'm twenty-two" Dylan replied, barely above a whisper, his throat tight with emotion.
There was a soft sigh from the other end. "You're only a few years older than Ember. You're still learning… just like she is. That doesn't make you responsible for everything that happens to her."
But her father wasn't so easily softened. His voice cut through the warmth like a blade. "Then tell me this—what's the real reason you called… without Ember present here ?"
Dylan hesitated, his hand gently brushing Ember's hair where she lay asleep, unaware of the storm that had broken behind her. His voice dropped lower, laced with guilt and pain.
"Because… the situation Ember is in right now… it's my fault. I wasn't careful enough. I let my guard down. And she paid the price for my mistake."
There was a sharp inhale from her father. "You mean the reason Ember's in the hospital—is because something happened there, in your country ?"
Dylan's hands clenched into fists, and the memory hit him like a blade through the ribs.
"It was my friend's birthday party. That night… Ember was kidnapped."
The silence on the other end of the line was deafening.
"When we found her… she was unconscious. Bleeding from her head. Two men had tried to assault her."
"What?!" her parents gasped in unison, their voices raw with horror.
Dylan's voice broke, a tear slipping down his cheek as he struggled to keep himself together.
"She's in the hospital now right in your city. The doctors said she's physically stable… but mentally—she's not doing well. When she came home, she started having panic attacks. Three in one day." His voice cracked. "She's trying so hard to be strong… but I know she's terrified. And I couldn't let her carry this pain alone. I couldn't let her be the one to tell you. Not this."
His hand wrapped around Ember's cold fingers, and he leaned closer, whispering to her though she couldn't hear.
"I should've protected you better, Ember… I failed once, but I swear to everything, I won't let it happen again."
There was nothing playful in his voice now—only raw devotion, guilt, and a burning promise that whoever hurt her… would pay.
The moment Ember's mother heard the words—assaulted by two men—her body trembled, and her face crumpled with grief. A soft, broken sob escaped her lips as the truth sank in like cold steel. She clutched her chest, shaking her head in denial.
Her husband, Ishaan, immediately wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight as her shoulders shook. "She's alright now… don't cry," he whispered, though his own voice was cracked and uncertain.
On the other side of the line, Dylan sat silently, listening to the heartache in Ember's parents' voices. It tore him apart. Each sob, each breath of anguish, made the guilt inside him swell like a storm. His hand gripped the edge of the table, knuckles white, eyes full of regret as he looked down at Ember's fragile form.
She looked so peaceful... so unaware of the weight she left behind. And Dylan—he blamed himself for every bit of it.
"I know this isn't my place," he said quietly, his voice tight with emotion, "but I wanted to ask something… Please… don't tell Ember that I told you all this."
He paused, swallowing hard.
"She's terrified… not just of what happened, but of facing you, of reliving it. She's scared she'll disappoint you. She doesn't want you to see her as broken. She needs time to tell you herself… in her own way."
His voice softened, trembling with love and sorrow.
"Please… treat her gently. Be patient with her. She's still your daughter—your brave, strong Ember. And I know I don't deserve to ask you this… but take care of her. Like you always have. She needs you now more than ever."
There was a long silence. For a moment, Dylan feared they'd hung up. But then Ishaan's voice came through, low and steady.
"We will always be there for her… Thank you, Dylan. For rescuing her. Has the culprit been caught by the police?" her father asked.
"Not yet, sir. But please don't worry—I'll let you know the moment they're caught," Dylan replied reassuringly.
"Alright. Please do keep us informed," her father said.
Dylan blinked, stunned by the gratitude. He didn't feel worthy of it. But he nodded, even though they couldn't see him.
Then Ember's mother spoke, her voice quieter but firmer. "Ishaan… why don't you wait downstairs? I want to talk to him alone."
There was a pause. Then the sound of footsteps echoed faintly over the call, followed by the soft creak of a door closing. Ember's father was gone.
Now it was just the two of them—Ember's mother and Dylan—bound together by love for the same girl, and the storm that had shattered her world.
Alone in the quiet room, Ember's mother, Rose, clutched the phone tightly in her hands. Her voice trembled as she spoke, filled with a mother's ache and gratitude.
"Dylan… it's truly shocking to hear this about my daughter. I still can't believe it. But I know… I know it must be even harder for you—to see Ember like this, to carry that burden in silence. Thank you… for being there when we couldn't be. In that strange city, in that unfamiliar world, you gave her shelter… and more than that—you cherished her. Thank you… from the depths of my heart."
On the other end, Dylan pressed the phone closer to his ear, his throat tightening at her words. His voice cracked as he replied, filled with guilt and affection.
"Aunty… you don't need to thank me. I'm the one who should be apologizing. I wasn't… good enough for her. As a boy—"
He stopped himself, the weight of that sentence too much to bear.
There was a gentle silence. Then Rose asked, her tone soft but certain, "The ring on Ember's finger… it's from you, isn't it?"
Dylan froze. "How did you know?"
Rose smiled through her tears, the image of her daughter's glowing face fresh in her memory.
"I know my Ember very well. She's always had the kind of heart that could make even a crying stranger smile. But that day… when she showed me the ring, her eyes sparkled like I'd never seen before. She told me she bought it herself when we are at the dining table. But now… now I know the truth. That ring… it came from love."
Dylan closed his eyes, the guilt turning into something heavier—something sacred.
"I'm sorry for hiding it from you," he said softly. "I was afraid… that if I told you I was her boyfriend, you might think I wasn't capable of protecting her. But aunty… I love her. I genuinely love Ember. And I swear, I'll do better. I'll protect her. Always."
There was a pause. Then Rose's voice returned, warm and motherly, filled with a strength Dylan didn't know he needed.
"Dylan… stop feeling guilty. Just be there for her. That's all she needs right now. I'm truly glad Ember found someone like you—someone warm, sincere, and kind."
She chuckled lightly, trying to soften the moment.
"Take care of her, the way you already do. And take care of yourself, too. I'm heading to the hospital to see her. Stay strong… and stop crying, alright? Ember doesn't like crybabies."
Before Dylan could respond, the call ended.
He stared at the phone, blinking in confusion.
"Wait… what?" he muttered with a stunned laugh, a tear still slipping down his cheek—this time not from guilt, but from something warmer.