Chapter 3

The next day, the day of Lucas's full moon party, I woke up early.

David messaged me via WhatsApp last night: [I've got a big meeting tomorrow, so I might not be reachable.]

I replied with a single word: [Okay.]

Then, I started getting ready for the day.

I dropped Sophie off with the neighbor next door.

Then I changed into something low-key, put on sunglasses and a hat.

I took a cab straight to the hotel listed on the invitation.

Grand Regency Hotel was one of the best hotels in the city.

When I arrived, the hotel entrance was already jammed with cars.

Guests were walking in, arms full of gift boxes and bags.

A red archway, balloons, and flower baskets lined the entrance.

A banner at the door read: [Congratulations on Lucas Warren's One-month Celebration.]

I stood across the street and watched for a long time.

Then I slipped quietly into the hotel, keeping to the shadows.

The reception hall was on the third floor.

Instead of heading straight up, I found a seat in the lobby with a clear view of the elevators.

Around 10:30, a black van pulled up at the hotel entrance.

David stepped out of the van.

He wore a sharp suit, his hair slicked back perfectly in place.

He held a baby in his arms.

The baby was swaddled in bright red fabric.

My heart clenched.

A moment later, another person stepped out of the van.

A young woman emerged, wearing her red dress.

She had long hair, a sharp jawline, and a slender frame.

She flashed David a smile and leaned in close, whispering something to him.

David grinned back, gently passing the baby into her arms.

They walked in side by side, heading into the hotel together.

My fingers clenched around my phone.

Stay calm.

I snapped photos.

I started recording.

They stepped into the elevator and rose to the third floor.

I waited five minutes, then followed after them.

The entrance to the reception hall was packed with guests coming and going.

Some were checking in, others were chatting and catching up.

With my hat and sunglasses on, I blended into the crowd without drawing notice.

I took a few steps further in.

I spotted the main table.

David was sitting at the center.

Next to him was the woman, cradling the baby in her arms.

And on the other side sat my mother-in-law, David's mom.

She was smiling, cooing at the baby.

I had never seen that look on her face before.

It was full of warmth, contentment, and pure joy.

I remembered the day Sophie turned one month old.

My mother-in-law showed up and stayed barely ten minutes.

She held Sophie for a moment and said the girl took after me.

Then she said she had errands to run and left.

She didn't stick around for a meal.

But now she sat there for the entire celebration.

She kept fussing over the other woman, offering her water and tissues, as if she were her own flesh and blood.

I retreated to a corner and kept snapping more photos.

The celebration kicked off.

The host's voice boomed through the hall. "Today, we gather to celebrate Lucas Warren's one-month anniversary. Let's welcome Lucas's parents to the stage to say a few words."

David stood up, took the woman's hand, and led her to the stage.

He said, "Dear guests, dear friends, thank you all for taking time out of your busy schedules to celebrate my son's one-month celebration."

I had heard that voice for three years. It was familiar to the bone.

It used to sound gentle and reliable. But now it turned my stomach.

He added, "The happiest moment of my life is having this son. And I want to thank his mother for giving me such a precious gift."

Applause broke out across the room.

I slipped out of the hall and leaned against the wall in the hallway, gasping for air.

Tears streamed down my face, unstoppable.

The happiest moment of my life is having this son. But what about my daughter? What about Sophie? Isn't she your child too? Where were you the day she was born?

You said you were stuck in a meeting and couldn't get away. You were here, by her side, to celebrate what you claim is the happiest moment of your life.

I stood there in the hallway, unsure how much time had passed.

Then my phone rang.

It was the neighbor calling.

She said on the phone, "Mrs. Warren, the baby's hungry and fussing for milk."

I took a deep breath and said quietly, "Okay, I'll be right there."

I took one last look toward the reception hall.

There were 38 tables gathered, and the whole place was packed.

Laughter, applause, and well-wishes filled the air.

But my daughter never got a single table.

David, you wait.