Chapter 1

My son was a math prodigy.

Badly injured in a car accident, I arrived late to my son's high school graduation party. As usual, he handed me another set of number maze puzzles.

He said calmly, "Mom, solve these puzzles and you'll find the key to get in to see me."

I called my husband, who snapped impatiently, "Mistakes deserve punishment. Even our son gets that. Why can't you?"

After five grueling hours under the scorching sun, I finally found the key.

But at that very moment, a wave of exhaustion washed over me.

I left behind signed divorce papers.

Before leaving, I sent my son one last message. [Don't worry. You won't have to put up with a terrible mother like me anymore.]

*****

I slipped the divorce papers, along with the slender key in my palm, under the flowerpot outside the villa gate.

Then I took a photo and sent it to my husband, Caleb Burns.

The scorching sun shone on me. Perhaps I'd just sweated too much.

Fresh blood started seeping through the bandages on my calves and arms again.

I booked a flight to Rutswell and turned to leave without looking back.

Behind me, the security guard outside the wrought-iron gate reminded me in surprise, "Mrs. Burns, Mr. Burns and Spencer said you can go in once you find the key."

I paused in my steps.

Without turning around, I said calmly, "It's fine."

Just as I was about to board the plane, Caleb called.

His voice was livid. "You're filing for divorce just because you were late and our son gave you a few math problems?"

The airport was filled with people.

I stood in the long queue, waiting for my turn at the security checkpoint.

I almost blurted out my explanation.

That morning, on my way back, I had been caught in a sudden torrential downpour.

There had been a crash involving 20 cars. Three people had died on the spot.

I'd barely escaped with my life. The hospital wanted to keep me for observation, but I had my wounds dressed and rushed back anyway.

I was supposed to arrive by ten, and in the end, I was just five minutes late.

But before I could utter a word, Caleb's furious voice erupted again. "Everyone else made it on time for Spencer's high school graduation party except for you. Isabelle, why do you, as his mother, always have to set the worst example for our son?"

The noisy, jostling crowd made it hard to breathe.

Finally, I couldn't hold back and blurted out, "Was I really the only one who was late?"

I had finally found the key at three o'clock in the afternoon after five exhausting hours of searching.

When I arrived outside the villa, I saw Isadora Anderson and her daughter, Yelena Anderson, both arriving fashionably late, with my son, Spencer Burns, coming out to greet them in person.

He handed one umbrella to Isadora and shared the other with Yelena.

Though he tried to hide his feelings, the blush creeping up his ears gave him away.

He hadn't even noticed me, his own mother, standing just a few steps away outside the gate.

On the other end of the line, Caleb was silent for a long moment.

After a while, his voice laced with anger and humiliation, he snapped, "Isabelle, how dare you compare yourself to Isadora and Yelena? Don't you remember what—"

It felt as if an old thorn that had been lodged in my heart was being twisted once again.

I softly but firmly cut him off, "So let's get a divorce. Go marry the woman you truly want, and give Spencer the mother and sister he's always wished for."

On the other end, Caleb hissed through gritted teeth, "Don't come crying with regrets later."

It was finally my turn at the security checkpoint.

I placed my small suitcase on the conveyor belt.

My voice calm, I said, "I won't regret it."

I hung up, pocketed my phone, and boarded the plane to Rutswell.

This city, where I'd spent 15 years of my life, had nothing to do with me anymore from that moment on.

By the time I got off the plane, it was approaching midnight.

My father's big truck was already waiting by the roadside.

As soon as I stepped out of the station, I saw him waving at me from afar, his face creased with a joyful smile. "Over here, sweetheart!"

I walked over, and he kept glancing past me as if hoping to see someone else coming along.

When Spencer was little, every time I went back to Rutswell to visit my father, he'd beg to come along.

But as he grew older and began to understand the Burns family's ways, he gradually distanced himself from me.

He was just 14. I realized it'd been almost six years since he'd last set foot here.

My father forced a smile, his gaze lingering for a long moment before finally looking away.

The disappointment in his clouded eyes was impossible to hide.

I didn't say anything, and he didn't ask.

He opened the back door of the truck. Inside, the spacious cargo area had been cleaned until it was spotless, with clean bedding neatly laid out.

In the corner, Maxie was curled up, fast asleep.

At the sound of movement, it gave a soft whimper and got up.

The light was dim, so it stared at me for a moment before recognizing me.

Then, all at once, it perked up and bounded toward me joyfully, wagging its tail.

Even after more than half a year away, Maxie greeted me with the same instant affection as always.

I didn't know why, but I suddenly remembered how Spencer used to be so close to me years ago.

Every time I rushed home from out of town, he would throw himself into my arms with teary eyes, as if the world had turned against him.

I climbed into the back of the truck and hugged Maxie tightly, finally allowing myself a moment of comfort.

My father went up to the front to drive and said to me, "There are snacks and drinks in the bag. It'll be nearly two hours till we get home, so try to catch some sleep if you can."

The truck slowly turned onto a deserted country lane.

Lying in the cargo hold, I gazed at the clear expanse of stars through the metal grating.

For a moment, it felt just like childhood again.

It was as if those 15 years in Xiamont had been nothing but a dream.

At that moment, the dream was finally over.

I decided to stay in Rutswell and took a job teaching at an elementary school.

I picked up my paintbrush again, teaching the kids how to paint.

After leaving the Burns family, no one would ever accuse me again, saying, "Painting is just a tool to please the rich. Staying in the middle of nowhere is how losers escape reality."

Nearly two months flew by in the blink of an eye.

I'd finally started to get over the withdrawal symptoms of being apart from Caleb and Spencer.

No longer did I wake up in the middle of the night with chest pains so sharp they left me gasping for breath.

The days slipped by.

It wasn't until two months later that Caleb finally called me for the first time.

I stared at his name on the screen for what felt like an eternity before finally swiping to answer.

On the other end, Caleb's voice was icy with disgust, as if he'd finally reached his limit. "Isabelle, you've won. Happy now?"