Chapter 4

Paper lanterns swung above the community picnic tables.

Sitting at the edge of the grass, Micah kept his head down.

A sketchbook rested on his knees.

For a deaf child, the chaotic noise of a neighborhood party didn't exist.

Only the shadows moving across his paper mattered.

A shadow suddenly stopped right in front of him.

It was Leo.

Waving his hands in erratic, mocking gestures, the hearing boy mimicked sign language.

His face contorted into an ugly sneer.

Trying to ignore him, Micah pulled his sketchbook closer to his chest.

A sudden shove sent my son tumbling backward into the dirt.

The sketchbook was snatched from his grip and thrown straight into a muddy puddle.

Before I could even cross the lawn, a familiar figure sprinted past me.

Ross didn't run toward his fallen son.

Dropping to his knees, my husband grabbed Leo's shoulders.

"Are you hurt? Did he scratch you?" Ross asked, frantically checking the other boy's arms.

Mud soaked through Micah's shirt as he struggled to sit up.

Micah stared at his ruined drawings, his small shoulders shaking.

Ross turned his head.

Disgust warped his features as he glared at his own flesh and blood.

"Why are you always so aggressive?" Ross yelled, pointing a finger at Micah. "I am sick of this gloomy attitude! Apologize to him!"

Those words were not just loud; they were enunciated clearly to be read on his lips.

My son froze.

The desperate, years-long need to please his father finally died in his eyes.

Scrambling to his feet, Micah didn't look at Ross anymore.

He walked straight to me.

Muddy hands reached out, grabbing my shirt.

[Mom, take me away.] His trembling fingers formed the words.

Tears silently spilled over his lashes, tracking through the dirt on his cheeks.

[I don't want a dad anymore. Please.]

My heart shattered into dust.

Reaching down, I pulled his shaking body tightly into my arms.

A soft rustle of silk approached from behind.

Priya stopped beside us, watching the scene with fake sympathy.

Priya leaned in, dropping her voice to a whisper only I could hear.

"Don't blame Ross," she murmured.

"Every man wants a normal family. A healthy son he can actually be proud of."

Her arrogant smile was supposed to break me.

Instead, a sharp buzz vibrated inside my coat pocket.

I slid out my phone. A notification from the private investigator lit up the screen.

Subject: URGENT - Raval Background Check.

I opened the attachment, and a hospital birth certificate filled the screen.

Child: Leo Raval.

Mother: Priya Raval.

My gaze skipped to the next line. The letters burned into my retinas.

Father: Ross Marsh.

The breath left my lungs.

This wasn't charity.

This wasn't pity for a broken home.

For ten years, my marriage had been a convenient shield.

Ross hadn't stolen my son's future to play the savior to a neighbor.

He had stolen it to feed his own secret, illegitimate child.

I locked the screen as a chilling calmness replaced the grief in my chest.

Every second spent breathing the same air as that man suddenly felt nauseating.

Squeezing Micah's hand, I turned away from the picnic.

Without saying a single word to the man who ruined us, we walked straight into the dark.

The house was suffocatingly quiet when we pushed through the front door.

There would be no more waiting.

No more hoping for a father who didn't exist.

I dragged two large suitcases from the hall closet, their zippers cutting sharply through the silence.

Clothes, medicine, and Micah's favorite books were thrown inside.

Anything bought by Ross was left untouched on the shelves.

With the bags zipped shut, the heavy weight of a ten-year lie finally dropped away.

A few minutes later, I stood in the dark driveway as the front door clicked shut behind us.

A small tug on my sleeve pulled my attention down.

Standing beside the luggage, Micah looked up at me.

His trembling fingers slowly formed a question in the shadows.

[Mom, are we homeless now?]

A lump formed in my throat.

Kneeling on the cold concrete, I brought my hands up to his eye level.

[No, baby. We are finally free.]

He hesitated, his eyes darting back toward the dark windows of the house.

His hands rose again, the movements smaller this time and filled with heartbreaking insecurity.

[Will you throw me away too? Because I can't hear?]

Tears instantly blurred my vision.

Reaching out, I pulled him fiercely against my chest.

[Never.] I signed against his back, resting my chin on his shoulder. [You are perfect. You are my whole world.]

Wrapping his arms around my neck, Micah buried his muddy face into my coat.

Picking up the suitcases, we walked down the street.

Let Ross have his perfect, filthy little family.

We were never coming back.