I Saw My Mom in His Family Photo

Ten minutes later, I arrived at the student's neighborhood.

The security guard at the gate stopped me. "Can I help you, sir? Who are you here to see? Do you have an appointment? This is a high-end community. We can't let you in without a resident's approval."

I looked at him and opened my mouth. "I'm looking for my mother. Anna—"

Before I could finish speaking, the guard suddenly snapped to attention and shouted past my shoulder, "Good afternoon, Mr. Mercado!"

I turned around just as a white BMW sped past, splashing mud all over me.

"Who's that?" I asked.

The guard replied, "That's Mr. Mercado. His wife owns the largest penthouse in the neighborhood. She's a big deal. Annalise Fowler, the incoming CEO of Orion Tech. I've worked here for three years, and I see Ms. Fowler driving her husband and son home almost every day."

"Every day?" I repeated.

The guard smiled. "Well, not literally every day. She travels for work sometimes. But they have a son in college. Whenever the semester starts or ends, you always see the two of them picking him up or dropping him off. They're incredibly close."

I looked toward where the car had disappeared, unable to smile.

Because in my memory, Mom was always too busy.

When I first left for college, Dad had packed all my bags and asked Mom to drive me. But right before we left, she got a call from a client, told me that something had come up at work, and rushed off.

During my first winter break, I couldn't get a flight and had to take a grueling ten-hour train ride.

Mom promised she'd be there when I got off. But I ended up waiting at the station from 6:00 to 9:00 pm, only to receive a curt text. "In a meeting. Don't disturb."

I spent three hours shivering in the cold and came down with a high fever that night.

Through my delirium, I heard Mom telling Dad, "I only work this hard to give you two a better life."

Dad came from money, while Mom had clawed her way up from nothing with Grandpa's support.

Growing up, I always believed she devoted herself to her career to prove herself worthy of Dad and to keep others from looking down on her.

She had repeated that line to us countless times over the 19 years of my life.

But now…

I watched the BMW park. A well-dressed man wearing an expensive watch stepped out.

Behind him was a young man about my age. That was Harold Mercado.

Then, the driver's side door opened.

A woman in business attire stepped out and naturally leaned into the man's embrace.

Harold took her arm, affectionately calling her "Mom".

"See? That's Ms. Fowler," the guard said. "They're a perfect family, aren't they?"