Chapter 6

From the hospital bed, Anton looked at me.

A crushing wave of guilt and shame washed over me as I remembered the absurd year I spent playing house with Edward and Nathan.

Anton used to tell me I was the best mother in the entire world.

Right now, I was his only refuge.

I never, ever wanted him to discover the pathetic life I lived over the past year.

I quickly gave him a reassuring excuse. "It's a telemarketer."

Edward sensed I was about to hang up, so his voice spiked with sudden urgency. "It's Nathan. He wants to talk to you. He is your boy."

Back then, whenever I called Nathan my little boy, Nathan would scrunch his face and scream that I was disgusting.

Edward would chime in with pure disdain, "He is not a three-year-old toddler."

Right now, however, Edward's tone felt like a deliberate, desperate attempt to appease me.

But my real son was back. Never again would I cling to desperate illusions, mistaking another child for my son.

On the other end of the line, Nathan's voice sounded stiff. "You... you need to come back. I have a really bad fever. It's almost 104°F."

He paused for a moment.

When I offered no response, he continued with an awkward, exaggerated flare, "I am not lying to you. It is super serious. The doctor said I might die. And if I die, you won't have a son anymore."

A knot tightened in my throat as those words looped endlessly in my head. "The doctor said I might die. And if I die, you won't have a son anymore."

My maternal instinct took over completely. I shot back immediately, "My son will be perfectly fine."

Thinking he had won, Nathan sounded slightly smug. "So hurry up and come back. If you are late, it will be your fault."

On the hospital bed, Anton's lips were pale and cracked.

I held the phone in one hand while using the other to carefully raise a cup of water to his mouth.

After making sure he drank enough, I prepared to end the call, whispering another excuse to Anton, "They are trying to sell real estate."

Edward was an arrogant man who had never tolerated my indifference. Yet right then, it was as if he completely forgot his anger. He rushed to speak again, "Lily, wait."

It was the very first time he had ever used my first name.

Hearing this sudden display of concern from a man who had always treated me with absolute impatience and disgust was both deeply ironic and incredibly pathetic.

Before he could finish the sentence, I hung up.

Thankfully, Anton seemed to buy my excuse and asked no further questions.

Remembering Edward's endless harassment, I feared that one day he and Nathan would snap and track me down.

The moment Anton drifted off to sleep, I made a call and paid to have my tracks wiped clean.

I tossed my old SIM card in the trash and activated a brand new one.

Edward and Nathan knew absolutely nothing about my past. They didn't even know my legal name.

Even if they tore the city apart looking for me, they would find nothing.

Finishing those tasks felt like permanently wiping away a dark criminal record.

Only when it was fully done did I finally let out a long sigh of relief.

*****

I never got another call from Edward or Nathan, and I completely stopped keeping tabs on them.

My life became a grueling but peaceful daily routine.

I took Anton everywhere, traveling domestically and internationally.

We sought out the leading psychologists and the most highly-rated surgeons in the world.

Anton endured major surgeries and intensive therapy sessions, one after another.

We spent weeks in expensive ICU wards and purchased exorbitant medications.

He underwent a liver transplant to replace his failing organ.

Following the surgery, his condition initially seemed to stabilize.

But after a while, his health began to plummet again.

Despite consuming handfuls of anti-rejection pills, he suffered from frequent vomiting, severe loss of appetite, and high fevers that caused terrifying fainting spells.

The weight he had finally managed to gain vanished entirely within months.

I changed his medication and kept finding new doctors for him.

The inheritance Freddie left behind, combined with my personal savings, was originally a substantial fortune.

Nearly three years of relentless medical bills had drained it to the bottom.

And after all that effort and money, the doctors continued to offer the same devastating verdict. "You need to prepare yourself mentally."

I sold my car and all my jewelry, fully determined to continue funding his treatment.

On the day I pushed Anton in his wheelchair toward yet another specialized hospital, Northville was buried in the deep chill of winter. We passed an outdoor skating rink on the way.

Young couples glided across the ice, laughing and chasing each other. Anton tilted his head, watching them with a blank stare.

The scene abruptly pulled me back to the memory of the first time I met Freddie.

He was only a teenager then, stepping out from the light to pull me from the shadows.

He had told me, "Don't be scared. I'm going to share my home and my mother with you."

Then, my mind flashed to Mary's tragic final words to me. "I never should have agreed to let Freddie bring you into our home all those years ago."

I stood behind Anton, pushing his wheelchair. Years after those events, I choked back a silent sob.

Through my tear-blurred vision, I hallucinated Freddie standing right in front of me, holding Anton's hand.

But I would never forget that a similar hallucination was exactly what caused me to lose my son in the first place.

So I immediately raised my hand and wiped the tears from my eyes.

As my vision cleared, I stared intently.

It took a few seconds, but I finally saw who was right in front of me, Edward and Nathan.

They stood a few paces off, looking straight back at me.