Chapter 3

I looked at the little girl. There was indeed a cartoon Band-Aid on her forehead.

"If Lucas was wrong, I apologize on his behalf. The medical expenses---"

"No need for medical expenses."

Ethan finally spoke.

He avoided my gaze, looking elsewhere.

"Kids roughhousing, it happens."

His defense was for his daughter.

But what about my son?

My Lucas had a bruise on his lip too.

I looked away awkwardly, unable to stay any longer.

"Miss Smith, I'll take Lucas home now. I'll make sure to discipline him properly."

As soon as I finished speaking, I turned and fled.

Behind me, Jennifer's gentle voice rang out again:

"Ethan, let's take Zoe out for her favorite Italian food tonight. Consider it making it up to her."

My steps faltered.

Italian food.

When we were dating, Italian food was my favorite.

Back then, Ethan had taken me to every Italian restaurant in the city, just to let me taste the freshest clams.

He had once said:

"When this mission is over, I'll take you to Tuscany and let you eat to your heart's content."

So his promises hadn't gone unfulfilled---he'd just fulfilled them for someone else.

As I left the building, my phone buzzed.

The name "Sebastian White" flashed on the screen.

I answered, and his warm voice came through.

"Serena, don't forget your follow-up appointment tomorrow."

When I got home, Lucas sat sullenly on the couch, the bruise on his lip looking even more obvious.

I knelt down and dabbed ointment on it with a cotton swab.

He hissed in pain but still looked up at me with his small face, watching me carefully.

"Mom, that man today looked just like Dad in the photo."

My hand froze.

In the photo, Ethan wore his uniform, standing tall and handsome with a smile in his eyes.

Lucas had been calling that picture "Daddy" since he was little.

I swallowed the bitter ache in my heart, ruffled his hair, and said softly:

"Silly boy, people can look alike. There are plenty of people in the world who resemble each other."

He nodded as if he understood, then muttered quietly:

"Mom, do I not have a dad?"

Children speak without filters, yet every word pierced my heart.

I pulled him tightly into my arms, my chin resting on his soft hair, my voice choked:

"You do. Your dad is a hero. He's in a faraway place protecting us."

This was the lie I'd been telling him for nine years.

Before, I had truly believed it.

Now, it seemed more like a joke.

After settling Lucas to sleep, I dragged my exhausted body into the bathroom.

I closed the door, turned on the shower, and let the water pour over me, soaking through my clothes.

I couldn't hold it in anymore.

I crouched down.

Ten years of suppressed grief and pain exploded in that moment.

I bit down on my arm to muffle my sobs.

Why?

Ethan Walker, why did you do this to me?

Do you know what those ten years were like for me?

For the first two years after you disappeared, I frantically searched for any information about you.

I begged everyone I could contact, and the answer was always "no news."

The little life growing inside me was my only hope.

When I was six months pregnant, I was diagnosed with cervical cancer.

The doctor urged me to terminate the pregnancy and begin treatment immediately.

I refused.

This was the only connection left between you and me. I couldn't bear to let go.

I hid it from everyone and stubbornly chose the most conservative treatment plan, just so he could be born safely.