Chapter 7: Clues to Identity and Crisis
729words
He stops with the "accidental" meetings and starts showing up officially. A fancy black car comes to take Mom to meetings at the "Giant Castle," and there's always a strawberry milk box waiting for me inside.
In his office, there's a huge toy chest next to the sofa, filled with brand-new toys just for me.
Mom is super nervous about all this. The hedgehog in her heart has its spines standing straight up.
[What's his angle? This unexpected generosity is more unsettling than outright hostility. I need to corner him for a conversation—we can't accept these gifts.]
I discovered something else, too.
That day, while building with blocks in Uncle Alex's office, his robot-like assistant hurried in with a thick manila envelope.
The robotic assistant's thoughts betrayed his anxiety: [Boss, all the materials from six years ago are in here… I hope the results are what you want to see.]
Alex took the envelope with slightly trembling fingers. After dismissing his assistant, he sat alone behind his massive desk and opened the "secret file."
I pretended to focus on my block castle, but my "secret ears" were already on high alert.
I "watched" him flip through the pages one by one as that earthquake in his heart returned—a hundred times stronger than when we first met in the lobby!
[Six years ago… charity gala at the Hilton… Claire Campbell, temporary waitress… next morning, Mother left a check… she disappeared without a word… the timing… it's a perfect match!]
His breathing grew labored, like a wounded bear.
[It's true then… he really is my son… I have a son… a five-year-old, blond, blue-eyed, most adorable little boy in the world…]
He clutched the documents to his chest as something shiny fell from his eyes, dripping onto the papers.
In that moment, there was no ice mountain in his heart, no king—just a grown man who had lost his most precious treasure and found it again. He radiated ecstasy, regret, and overwhelming, helpless confusion.
[What do I do now? How do I tell Claire? She'll hate me! She probably thinks I'm just another rich jerk who throws money at problems! How… how do I reclaim my son… our son?]
I hid behind the massive sofa, not daring to make a sound.
Though I didn't understand words like "gala" and "check," I grasped the essence. Uncle Alex believed I was that "very important child" he had lost.
Could this… could this be true?
Just then, his desk phone rang. He quickly wiped his eyes and composed his voice.
"Hello?.. Speaking… Vincent, what is it?"
I heard an unfriendly, smirking male voice on the other end—this must be Vincent. Then came Uncle Alex's thoughts:
[That snake Vincent, always digging for dirt… Is he warning me to stay away from "questionable" people? Is he talking about Claire?!]
Uncle Alex's face froze over again, colder than I'd ever seen it.
After that day, the air seemed filled with invisible dangers.
Once, while shopping at the supermarket with Mom, I felt eyes on us. I quietly used my "secret ears" to scan our surroundings and spotted a man in a baseball cap pretending to choose cereal while pointing his phone at us.
I caught his thoughts: [The photos Mr. Vincent wants—perfect, capturing their pathetic appearance. Great material for later.]
I tugged urgently at Mom's sleeve: "Mom, that man is taking pictures of us."
Mom glanced around but saw nothing suspicious, dismissing it as my imagination.
Life seemed to improve miraculously. Our landlady not only stopped raising the rent but brought us homemade apple pie. Mom's invitation designs were a hit, with new collaborations pouring in.
Yet the little hedgehog in Mom's heart curled into an ever-tighter ball.
That night, she stood by the window, watching the black car that had chauffeured us silently pull away. She remained silent for a long time.
I could hear confusion and unease flooding her thoughts.
[This is all too perfect. Is Sterling behind it? There's no such thing as a free lunch. What does a man like him really want?]
I clutched my dinosaur plushie and padded to her side, leaning against her leg.
Mom was worried. So was I.
I could almost smell that damp, earthy scent that hangs in the air before a storm breaks.
