Chapter 2

Teddy and I exchanged a glance, silently wiping away our tears.

I took a deep breath and turned, forcing calm into my voice.

"You'd been taking quite some time getting that report, so Teddy and I thought we'd come find you. We got a little lost on the way, almost went the wrong way," I said.

She let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, a faint smile threatening at her lips—until my next words froze her.

"What are you holding? Is that… our reports?"

I stepped forward, hand reaching for it, though my eyes never left her face.

Emma's gaze flickered, and she quickly hid the report behind her.

"Let… let's look at it at home. No rush."

I saw her lips pale from nervousness, and a trace of irony crossed my eyes. Withdrawing my hand, I turned and left with my son.

She froze for a moment before hurrying after us, scooping our son into her arms. Like before, her gestures were tender, careful, filled with affection.

But this time, my son didn't wrap his tiny arms around her neck. His body was stiff, his gaze vacant.

She didn't notice anything amiss, holding him all the way to the car. Only when checking the child seat did she speak, feigning casualness, "Honey, do you remember Daniel Carter? His son was sick for some time. Now the kid's better and ready to return home. They don't have any family in the country. Maybe they could stay at our place for a few days?"

She studied my expression carefully before adding, almost as an afterthought, "Of course, I'm just suggesting. If you and Teddy mind, we don't have to."

"I don't mind. Bring them home," I said.

Her surprise quickly turned into a smile. "Thank you, Honey. You're so good."

"To have married you… I'm the lucky one," I replied, without smiling, and turned to the backseat to hold Teddy. A single tear flashed past my eyes.

Back home, Emma immediately found an excuse to leave. I knew she was rushing to arrange Daniel's move.

I took the moment to talk to my son. I wanted to leave—far away from this disgusting house, far from Emma, forever if possible.

He didn't protest. He simply tore up the diary on his desk—the diary he had been keeping since the accident, every day with Emma and us.

[The first day of the accident, my eye was gone. I asked Dad where it went. He didn't answer. He just cried. Mom cried too. For the first time, she held me in her arms and promised to be my eyes from then on.]

[The third day—Mom came every day to care for me and Dad. She said she loved us so much and wanted to be our lifelong support. I told her I loved her too. She cried again.]

[The twenty-first day—I was discharged. Donny discovered my secret and teased me at preschool, calling me a cyclops. He said I was disgusting and refused to play with me again. I hid in the storage room and cried for a long time. But it didn't matter. Dad and Mom loved me.]

[The twenty-fifth day—The doctor gave me a toy eye. Mom said no one would laugh at me anymore. I showed Donny and told him I wasn't disgusting. He poked the toy eye with a pencil and called me a demon. My eye didn't hurt.]

Tears fell uncontrollably. I held my son close, heartbroken, sobbing.

"Teddy… Daddy's taking you away. Okay?"

He touched his cold, fake eye and nodded, eye red. "Okay."

I set the phone to a 24-hour countdown. I had to pack quickly. Every second left behind would only hurt my son more.

Countdown: 21 hours.

I took him to the kindergarten to process his withdrawal.