Chapter 2

The video started playing again on the lobby screen. Ian sat under the stage lights, basking in applause that didn't belong to him.

When we got home, Mia opened her diary and wrote a single sentence.

"Mommy gave my song away to someone else."

From that day on, she never sang at home again.

That very evening, I received an offer to transfer to the Silverton Branch.

I stared at the email for a long time. For once, I didn't reject it outright as I usually would have.

Three days later, during the project review, the judges noticed that the child's voice in the promotional video didn't match Ian's live performance. They demanded an explanation from the arts center.

Thea had promised to take Mia to an amusement park, but instead, she led her into a review room.

Six adults were seated inside.

Screenshots from the promotional video lay on the table. Clark and Ian were there too. Everyone was waiting for an explanation.

Thea led her daughter to the front of the room and whispered, "Just tell them what I taught you to say on the way here.

"Say that the song was originally written by Ian, but you liked it, so you volunteered to collaborate with him."

Ian came running over with his guitar and tugged at Thea's sleeve.

"Mommy Thea, didn't you say this was my song?"

His voice wasn't loud, but it was clear enough for Mia to hear.

Ian raised his head and pouted. "My classmates have been praising me. You can't suddenly say it's not mine."

Mia looked at him, tears welling up in her eyes.

"Mommy, why does he get to call you Mommy too?"

Thea immediately frowned.

"How can you be so selfish? Don't you know that Ian doesn't have a mother? How do you think that makes him feel?"

Clark looked uncomfortable and spoke up softly. "Thea, maybe we should just let it go. Don't put the kids through this."

Thea loosened her grip slightly, but then Clark sighed.

"I just feel bad because Ian has been practicing for six months for this opportunity. What a shame."

Thea pursed her lips and turned back to Mia.

"If you just clear things up, this will all be over. I promise you, I'll spend every weekend with you next month."

Mia was silent for a long time. Finally, she turned to the judges and repeated the words Thea had taught her.

I pushed open the door just as Mia was apologizing.

The moment she saw me, her lips trembled. However, she didn't cry. She simply instinctively hid both hands behind her back.

I walked up to her.

"Who told you to apologize?"

Thea pulled me to the side.

"It's already been settled. Don't make a scene in front of the children.

"All she has to do is admit she was being mischievous. At most, they'll think she's immature.

"If Ian gets branded as a fraud, his chances in every future competition will be ruined.

"She's only eight. She'll forget about this in a few days."

I looked at her.

"Do you really believe that?"

Thea's expression darkened.

"Jack Leighton, will you only be happy if I'm focused entirely on you and Mia?

"Ian doesn't have a mother. Clark is already struggling enough raising him alone. We have everything we need as a family of three. What's so wrong with letting them have this one thing?"

Mia was standing a short distance away and heard every single word.

During the drive home, she was silent.

She curled up in her car seat, as if afraid someone might even hear the sound of her breathing.

I thought back over the past month. This was hardly the first time Thea asked us to let something go.

The first time Ian came over, Thea took apart the galaxy projector Mia had been waiting six months for and gave it to him.

Mia protested that it was her birthday present, but Thea only said, "Ian just moved here. He needs something to make him feel at home. Let him enjoy it for a couple of nights."

At the arts camp's open house, the teacher asked parents to write a message to their children.

Thea filled an entire page with words of encouragement for Ian, but for Mia, all she wrote was, "Do your best, sweetheart!"

Then, there was the time Mia had a fever. Thea promised she'd be home in ten minutes.

But when Clark told her, "Ian is refusing to take his medicine," she stayed with them until dawn. She only sent me a message, saying, "You know how to take care of her. I'm not worried."

I used to think she was simply too softhearted to say no.

Now, I finally understood. She wasn't softhearted. She had simply decided that her own family could always wait.