Chapter 2

Marcus's last words were like a knife mixed with coarse sand, scraping viciously across the tenderest part of my heart.

Vivian stood slightly behind him to the side, her fingers unconsciously twisting the strap of her purse.

Her voice came out soft and gentle, like a feather, yet carrying a chill that could drill into your bones.

"Laura, even if you won't think of yourself, you should consider the child."

She moved forward half a step, her gaze sweeping "pityingly" over Andy, whom I was protecting behind me.

"This town isn't that big or that small. Later when the child goes to school, gets a job—everything requires background checks. If his file notes that his mother has...issues."

She deliberately paused, observing my expression, her voice dropping lower but ensuring all three of us could hear clearly.

"Then the child's whole life will be ruined. He won't be able to hold his head up anywhere."

"Even though..."

Her eyelids lowered slightly, revealing just the right amount of difficulty and "kindness."

"Even though back then, the injury...the doctor said there might be a slim chance, but after all these years, who can say for sure? Laura, I know raising a child alone isn't easy, but no matter how hard it is, you can't gamble with the child's future out of spite. For the child's sake, you should just..."

A crisp, resounding slap suddenly cut off her unfinished "advice."

I used all my strength. My palm stung and went numb.

Vivian was struck so hard her whole body tilted to one side. Her carefully styled hair came loose, a few strands falling messily.

They clung to her cheek, which instantly swelled and reddened.

She covered her face, staring at me in disbelief.

Tears quickly filled her eyes, ready to fall but not quite falling, suspended on her long lashes, making her look even more pitiable.

The next second, a heavier force came whistling back at my face.

My vision went dark, my ears rang, and my mouth instantly filled with the metallic taste of blood.

My cheek burned with pain. The force made me stagger backward.

My back slammed heavily into the cold, rough wall before I could barely steady myself. Bits of plaster fell onto my shoulders.

Marcus stood in front of Vivian like an impenetrable wall.

He shook out his hand as if he'd just touched something unclean.

The look he gave me was one of undisguised disgust and cold disappointment.

"Laura!"

His voice was very low, but each word hit the ground with force.

"You dare hit someone after what you did? What did Vivian say that was wrong? Who is she doing this for?!"

Again.

No matter when, no matter where, no matter what the truth was, he was always like this, unhesitatingly standing on Vivian's side.

Seven years ago at the conference, on the hospital steps, and now still the same.

Even though Vivian nearly killed me and my unborn child, in his eyes, she would always be that sister who needed protection, fragile and innocent.

And I would forever be the one with deep schemes, beyond reason.

"Mom!"

Andy charged out from beside me like an enraged little leopard, his small fists clenched, ready to strike Marcus.

"Bad man! You hit my mom!"

"Andy! Come back!"

I ignored the burning pain on my face and pulled him tightly back into my arms, shielding him completely with my body.

The child's body trembled with anger in my embrace. I could feel his rapid breathing and the tears he was holding back.

I couldn't let him strike. Absolutely not.

He was so young. He couldn't be drawn into the adults' filthy struggle.

I looked up, past Marcus's shoulder as he protected Vivian, at that face that was once familiar but now utterly strange.

The dim corridor light carved cold, hard lines across his face.

"Colonel Marcus."

I spoke, my voice somewhat hoarse.

"Whether you were actually injured back then, how severe the injury was—you know better than anyone. Why pretend to be confused and insist on forcing this dirty accusation onto me and my child?"

His eyes flickered violently, his jaw tightening further, but he didn't immediately refute.

I slowly straightened up and released Andy, taking his hand.

The child's hand was small and cold. I squeezed it hard, trying to transmit some warmth to him.

"Don't you want a blood comparison?"

I met his scrutinizing gaze, my tone so calm even I found it strange.

"Fine. Tomorrow morning at nine, at the hospital lab entrance. Don't be late."

After speaking, without looking at his suddenly complicated expression, I picked up Andy.

Step by step, I walked out of that suffocating, dim corridor.

I pushed open the heavy door. The bitter cold of the winter night hit my face.

Like a sobering slap, it dispersed the lingering burning sensation on my face and the metallic churning in my chest.

I carried Andy toward the half-old green jeep parked by the courtyard wall.

After settling him in the back seat and wrapping him in the small blanket we kept in the car, I sat in the driver's seat.

I didn't start the car immediately. I fumbled for my phone from the canvas bag in the passenger seat.

"It's me."

"If what I asked for is ready, send it to me the fastest way possible."