Chapter 3
After that day, nobody bothered to visit me anymore.
Maybe because Isabelle had already been discharged, there was no reason for Morgan and the others to come back to the hospital.
It was almost midnight on the day I was having my bandages removed, when Morgan called me.
"Rachel, where's the fever medicine? Charlie's burning up, and our family doctor is off tonight," he said.
I replied, "Bottom drawer, third section of the closet."
On the other end, I could hear him rummaging around.
After a moment, I asked, "Did you find it?"
There was a pause on the other end, like he just realized what I was asking.
"Yeah, I found it," he replied.
I said "Okay," and was about to hang up when his voice came through again.
"Rachel, how are you feeling?" he asked.
I replied, "I'm doing alright. Doctor says I'll be out soon."
He chuckled, "Good. Just text me when you're getting discharged. I'll swing by and pick you up. Also, there's something we need to discuss."
I remembered his words from the landslide day. The divorce.
After a brief pause, I forced myself to sound calm as I replied, "Okay."
Just then, Charlie's voice cut in from the background.
"Dad, are you talking to Rachel?" he asked.
"Dad, can you please not tell Rachel that I'm sick?" he pleaded.
"Mom promised to take me rafting tomorrow. If Rachel finds out I'm sick, she'll totally freak out and try every trick in the book to stop me," he added.
The silence was so thick that I could almost hear the static on the line.
Morgan lowered his voice. "Charlie, that's not a kind way to speak about her."
Charlie sounded a little hurt.
"But it's true," he protested.
"Rachel's always butting in, telling me what I can and can't do. She never lets me do anything I want—always saying no to everything," he complained.
"Can't she just stay away a little longer? I'm still having fun," he added.
Morgan's voice was unusually stern. "That's enough."
I'd heard enough and just hung up the phone.
Ever since Charlie found a photo of Isabelle last year and learned she was his real mother, things had changed.
From that moment on, he stopped calling me "Mom". I became just "Rachel."
Charlie was the child I raised myself.
When I joined their family, I was only 20. It was my first time ever trying to be a mom to someone else's child.
His first laugh, his first tears, and the very first time he called someone "Mom"—all of those were for me.
I still remember the first time he called me "Rachel" instead of "Mom". It felt like a knife to the heart, leaving me completely stunned.
But after enough distance, enough silence, the hurt finally went numb.
Now, when I heard him talk like that, it didn't even stir anything in me anymore.
*****
I ended up getting discharged from the hospital on the very last day of my six-year stint with this family.
The day I left, I tried calling Morgan.
I kept it simple. I figured we could just meet up somewhere, get the paperwork done, and I wouldn't have to set foot in the villa again.
But he never answered, so I flagged down a taxi and made my way to the villa myself.
Looks like I'd have to go back myself after all.
Rush hour dragged on forever, and by the time I got to the Quinn villa, the streetlights were already coming on.
When I walked in, I was greeted by a picture-perfect family moment. Everyone looked so happy and close-knit.
Isabelle was sitting comfortably on Morgan's lap, cutting a cake, while Ethan and Charlie were playfully fighting over some mushrooms in the pot.
All four of them froze when they saw me.