On the other side of the table, the child sat frozen. Her bare, unclothed skin seemed to reveal the vulnerability of her unprotected soul as it faced this emotional storm. Her downcast eyes were unable to look directly at her mother. There was an overwhelming sense of fear, despair, and helplessness because she knew there was nothing she could do to stop what was happening. Instead of crying hysterically, his fingers clutched a pen. On a sheet of paper covered in scribbles, he began to sketch a dark figure with large eyes. For the young man, the strokes of the pen on the paper were not merely a playful drawing. It was his last line of defense. When the real world was too cruel and painful to bear, art became the only place he could escape to, process his trauma, and immortalize this tragic moment of parting in his own way. Under the dim, lonely yellow light, the two of them were bound in a silence that was intimate yet heartbreaking.