Chapter 1

The night of the celebration party.

My family SnapChat group suddenly buzzed with a new message.

An unfamiliar cartoon avatar @Marcus.

“Dad, spot me some cash, I want to buy a game console.”

I froze.

I double-checked, confirming it was indeed my husband's immediate family group chat.

Marcus and I had been married for years, and we only had one daughter, Lily.

When did a new kid just pop up?

The message was quickly deleted.

But I couldn’t just pretend it hadn't happened.

Before I could react, Marcus called me.

“Hey, can you believe it? Some distant relative’s kid mistook me for their dad. Isn’t that wild?”

I feigned understanding, saying kids can be clumsy.

But as soon as the celebration ended, I walked to the parking lot.

And on the way, I told my private investigator to look into the owner of that account.

The neon lights flashed endlessly outside the car window.

My thoughts were constantly pulled back to that message.

I’m a naturally suspicious and perceptive person.

I live by the creed: “Better to overreact than to overlook.”

On his Ins feed, Marcus had just updated his status: “Family time, helping Lily with her homework.”

There was also a photo.

In the photo, the living room lights were bright.

Lily sat with a blank expression, staring at the camera.

Suddenly, I impulsively zoomed in on the photo.

I actually saw a reflection in my daughter’s pupils—a mother and child.

I’d never seen this mother and child before.

Two hours later, I finally arrived at his parents’ house.

It was the weekend.

Around this time, Marcus always brought Lily to see George and Martha.

When I arrived, an unfamiliar woman opened the door for me.

Her smile froze.

Just by her reaction, I knew my guess was right.

The woman was so nervous she could barely speak.

“I-I-I’m Maya, I came to visit Uncle George and Aunt Martha.”

I didn’t respond, pushing past her and walking straight in.

Marcus’s voice came from the living room, “Maya, who is it?”

Maya, of course, didn’t dare to speak.

After a long silence, Marcus walked out.

He instantly saw me, looking disheveled from my journey.

Suddenly, the air seemed to solidify, so heavy it was suffocating.

I pushed past Marcus and entered the living room.

In the living room, George and Martha had been gathered around a little boy.

Seeing me, they both abruptly stood up.

Martha’s knee hit the coffee table leg with a loud thud.

But she still tried to force a smile, making her face look incredibly stiff and unnatural.

“You’re here? Didn’t Marcus say you had work tonight?”

“Oh, I finished.”

I replied dismissively.

Then, my gaze landed on Lily.

My daughter sat isolated in the corner of the sofa.

Seeing me, her eyes immediately welled up, and she ran over.

“Mommy, you’re finally here.”

I hugged my daughter, my heart aching.

Lily had always been strong; she rarely got so outwardly emotional.

I wondered what grief she had endured while I was away?

Maya naturally stood by Marcus’s side, looking at me with a pained, teary expression.

Marcus patted her shoulder reassuringly, then looked at me.

“Have you eaten? Do you want me to warm something up for you?”

“No.”

I was in no mood to eat right now.

Martha’s eyes darted around, and she tugged on George’s sleeve.

George cleared his throat, put on a stern face, and lectured me.

“Look at you, coming home with such a grim face, as if we elders owe you something.”

I suddenly smiled.

My gaze finally settled on Maya.

She was watching me too, constantly twisting the hem of her dress with her hands.

She wore light makeup, a plain long dress, and a knitted cardigan.

Her outfit was clearly trying to look like the perfect wife-to-be.

A stark contrast to my own style.

Marcus subtly blocked my view, reaching out to take the bag from my hand.

“Go wash your face first, I’ll warm up some milk for you.”

I didn’t move, just looked down at Lily.

And Lily continued to cling to my waist, not letting go.

Her eyes were red and swollen, and she whispered to me,

“Mommy, I want to go home.”

“What’s wrong? Did someone bully you?” I stroked her head, my heart full of concern.

“I… I don’t like Leo.”

Lily’s voice was muffled.

The little boy, who had been playing a game console until now, suddenly looked up at us.

That glance sent a shiver down my spine.

He was truly too similar.

His features, so much like Marcus.

“This child…” My voice was calm, as if I still knew nothing. “He’s chubby-faced and lively.”

The little boy looked about seven or eight years old.

His narrow eyes stared straight at me, then he suddenly yelled.

“Dad, who’s this lady? What’s she doing at our house?”