Chapter 2

I stayed silent, just repeatedly hitting my head against the floor.

Blood flowed down my forehead and into my eyes, blurring Brandon's face.

But I would never leave Mom behind.

People pointed fingers at us, about to crowd closer.

"Enough!"

"You can take him, but no one will help you!"

Brandon gave me a deep look, then strode towards the door.

I scrambled up, not bothering to wipe the blood from my forehead, and stumbled after him, dragging the suitcase.

Seeing Brandon get into the car, I couldn't help but speed up.

*Bang!*

My foot caught, and I, along with the suitcase, tumbled down the steps.

For a long while, I lay on the ground, unable to get up.

But seeing the suitcase rolled far away, I bit my tongue, and slowly crawled towards it.

My knees scraped against the pebbles, making a sharp, grating sound.

Blood dripped all the way.

But I didn't feel any pain. I just clutched the suitcase tightly, softly murmuring:

"Don't cry, Mom. Baby doesn't hurt..."

In a daze, Brandon's impatient voice suddenly boomed above my head.

"Are you coming or not?"

I wiped my eyes, my throat tight, and replied, "Coming!"

Brandon stared at my face for a few seconds, hesitating, then finally picked up the suitcase.

Looking at his tall back,

I felt a tiny bit happy.

I jogged after him, mumbling,

"Easy, sir, Mom will hurt..."

Brandon ignored me.

He just forcefully flung open the trunk, tossed the suitcase inside, and said stiffly:

"Since you care so much about the suitcase, you can sit back here and keep it company."

With that, he loosened his tie and got into the car.

The car door slammed shut with a *clang*.

That little bit of happiness.

It quietly slipped away again.

I pressed my lips together, laboriously climbing into the trunk.

As soon as I sat down, I hissed aloud.

The heat was almost scalding my skin.

"Now what?"

The car window rolled down, revealing Brandon's irritated face.

I quickly shook my head.

Curling up, I pulled the trunk door shut, letting the suitcase lean against me.

I'm a tough boy.

Not afraid of heat, not afraid of pain. I need to protect Mom.

The car moved in stops and starts.

The temperature in the trunk rose again with the engine.

When the heat became unbearable, I would pinch my palms hard.

Then I'd press my face against the suitcase and whisper,

"Mom, just a little longer. It'll be over soon."

I don't know how long passed.

Brandon took me out of the car and into a house. A strange woman came out.

She pointed at me, her tone overly warm.

"So this is Clara Harrison's... son?"

Although she hid it well,

The disgust in her eyes was still caught by me.

The doctor said that people like me with Asperger's, though lacking emotions, can always accurately see through others' masks.

"Say Auntie!"

"She's your mom's best friend, Stella."

Brandon didn't respond, he just looked at me and spoke.

But Mom never mentioned having a best friend.

And she didn't seem like a good person.

I wanted to change the subject, so I looked up.

"Sir, I have something for you, but only you can see it."

Brandon didn't move.

Stella seized the opportunity to speak.

"Brandon, this child is just like his mother, so secretive... always treating others like thieves when she herself was one!"

I don't know what Brandon thought of, but his face instantly turned cold as ice.

He lit a cigarette, took a drag, and exhaled a single sentence.

"I'm not interested in anything belonging to your mom. Take it or leave it!"

Before I could react, he went straight to the study.

Only Stella and I were left in the living room.

Now, she didn't bother pretending. She folded her arms and leaned against the doorframe, a cold sneer escaping her nose.

"I heard you're very smart, but your mind isn't quite right. Who do you think Brandon will believe, me, his wife, or you?"

With that, she grabbed a red wine bottle from the shelf, smashed it with a *bang*, and lunged at me with the jagged pieces.

*Thud!*

Hot blood gushed out, but it wasn't mine.