I nodded and slipped into the kitchen through the side door.

My heart pounded with a fragile hope—maybe Joel still had some real feelings for me after all.

I glanced back, only to see him guide Kay inside with his hand resting tenderly on the small of her back.

The housekeeper bowed respectfully. "Welcome home, Mr. Gilbert, Mrs. Gilbert."

My nails dug into my palms until they stung. I turned away with a quiet, bitter laugh.

The kitchen was overflowing with ingredients—preparing everything would be exhausting. But thinking of the way Johnny's face lit up whenever he ate something he loved, what did a little exhaustion matter?

Then I heard it—a bright, cheerful voice calling out, "Mama!"

My eyes burned. My vision blurred.

I quickly wiped away the tears and turned around, arms already open wide.

But it wasn't me he ran to. Johnny threw himself into Kay's arms, excitedly calling her "Mama."

Kay held him close, shooting me a look of pure triumph.

Johnny noticed me standing there, covered in fish blood and grime. His little face twisted with disgust.

"Mama, she's so dirty—like a beggar. Let's get out of here."

That look of revulsion cut through me like a blade, slicing my heart wide open.

As they passed, Kay gave me a smug, sidelong glance.

"Johnny, who do you love the most?"

Johnny wrapped his arms around her neck, eyes sparkling. "Mama, of course!"

Then he shot me a glare and muttered, "I hate smelly beggars."

I had seen Johnny just two weeks ago. I'd given him a good-luck bracelet I'd woven myself.

He hadn't even looked at it before tossing it in the trash. Then he'd screamed at me, calling me a dirty, stinking beggar.

When others saw him sobbing and gasping for breath, crying for his mama, they assumed I was trying to kidnap him. They pinned me to the ground and beat me until Joel arrived at the police station to clear up the misunderstanding.

But I hadn't missed the disgust in Johnny's eyes that day.

He recognized me. He just refused to acknowledge me as his mother.

I smiled bitterly, crouched back down, and continued filleting the fish.

Last time I'd watched Johnny sleep, he'd murmured in his dreams about wanting sour cabbage fish.

Before long, Joel stormed into the kitchen, his face dark as a thundercloud.

He grabbed my wrist so hard that the knife sliced across the back of my hand.

I cried out. Blood dripped through my fingers and splattered onto the floor.

His grip on my wrist was crushing, like he wanted to grind the bones to dust.

"Mary! How many times do I have to tell you? Kay and I are just colleagues. Her parents aren't in the country—as her boss, is it so wrong to invite her for New Year's dinner? Why the hell did you hit her?"

I wrenched my hand free, tears spilling down my cheeks.

"It wasn't me!"

Joel's hand flew up. The slap snapped my head to the side.

"Johnny saw the whole thing!" he shouted. "You're his mother—why would he lie to help an outsider hurt you?"

Across the room, Johnny made a face at me and clutched Kay's hand tighter.

Eight years. I had carried him, given birth to him, raised him for eight years. He had never once called me "Mama." Never once come to me willingly.

But he would run into Kay's arms, cuddle up to her, let her attend parent-teacher conferences as his mother.

I let out a hollow laugh.

"Fine. It's all my fault. I'll apologize to Miss Pruitt."

I bowed deeply to Kay—ninety degrees—biting the inside of my cheek so hard I tasted blood, just to keep the tears from falling.

Joel stared at the blood pooling on the floor and found a bandage.

I pulled away before he could touch me and applied it myself.

Johnny muttered that this was boring and dragged Kay off to play with his toys.

Joel assumed I was sulking. His voice softened, coaxing.

"We're setting off fireworks later. I'll let you stand closer to Johnny."

Inside my pocket, my fingers tightened around the good-luck charm I'd planned to give Johnny for the new year.

I nodded.

The New Year's Eve dinner was a picture of family warmth.

Joel had arranged for me to sit closest to Johnny.

I treasured every second, trying to etch his face into my memory.

Johnny noticed my intense gaze and angrily threw down his chopsticks.

Old Mrs. Gilbert rushed to comfort him, blowing gently on his hand.

"Sweetheart, did you hurt yourself?"

Johnny burrowed into her arms and pointed at me, shrieking.

"Grandma, that beggar keeps staring at me! She's so gross I can't even eat!"

Old Mrs. Gilbert turned her disgusted gaze toward me.

I tugged my mask tighter, terrified of being recognized and thrown out. In my panic, I dropped to my knees.

"I'm sorry, ma'am. I was just worried the young master might not be used to tonight's dishes."

Kay rose with a bowl of chicken soup and gently patted Johnny's head.

"We mustn't lose our temper like that. Our Johnny is a well-mannered boy, isn't he?"

Johnny huffed but kept glaring at me with pure venom.

Old Mrs. Gilbert gave Kay an approving look, then seemed to remember something and turned to Joel with a weary sigh.

"Look at Kay—graceful, cultured, educated abroad—and she's willing to be your devoted partner. Then look at that country bumpkin you dragged home. You'd be a laughingstock if anyone saw her. If she had any shame at all, would she have clung to you for ten years without so much as a title?"

Joel glanced at me instinctively.

I lowered my eyes, the hurt settling deep.

I had no idea she despised me this much.

Joel's smile faded. His voice carried a note of reproach.

"Mom, if it weren't for Mary, I might not have made it back alive."

Years ago, I'd gone hiking in the mountains and stumbled upon Joel after he'd fallen off a cliff.

I rushed him to the hospital, only to be told he had severe head trauma and might lose some of his memories.

He couldn't even remember his phone password. When I tried to take him to the police station to file a report, he clung to me and refused to let go.

In the end, I had no choice but to let him stay.

I kept my head down. Old Mrs. Gilbert swayed, so dizzy with rage she nearly collapsed.

"You're talking back to me for that woman? Do you want Kay's child to be born a bastard?!"

Kay's cheeks flushed. She hurried to soothe the old woman.

"Please don't upset yourself. It's a good thing that Joel values loyalty. I really don't mind."

The servants kept their heads bowed, not daring to witness their masters' drama.

I looked up at Joel's flustered expression, then thought of the photos Kay sent me daily—like clockwork—of them in bed together.

She'd told me Joel loved it when she acted coy. If she told him not to get up, he wouldn't dare move.

Meanwhile, Joel and I had gone from inseparable newlyweds to strangers who hadn't been intimate in over six months.

My knees—the ones I'd shattered saving Joel all those years ago—began to throb. The pain made it hard to keep kneeling.

But it was nothing compared to the agony of his betrayal. Not even a thousandth of it.

Kay wrapped herself around Joel's arm, tears streaming down her face.

"You don't want this baby, do you? If you don't want it, I'll go to the hospital right now and get rid of it."

Old Mrs. Gilbert immediately grabbed Kay's hand, clutching her head and moaning about dizziness.

"If you let her abort that child, I'll drop dead right in front of you."

After a long silence, Joel shot me a guilty glance and mouthed the words:

I'll explain when we get home.

He gave in, massaging the old woman's shoulders, his words landing like hammer blows that shattered what was left of my heart.

"Fine. Have the baby. You've got nothing better to do anyway—you can take care of it. And Johnny will have a playmate."

Kay rose on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to Joel's cheek, then lowered her eyes with a shy smile.

Like the lady of the house, she ordered the servants to bring fresh dishes. Then she walked over to me, triumph glittering in her eyes.

"Why don't you go kneel outside? No point ruining everyone's evening."

Joel hurried to my side and whispered, "Why don't you step outside for now? Dinner won't take long. You can set off fireworks with Johnny soon."

My blood ran cold. I walked out in a daze.

Before Joel recovered his memories, he'd played the hero on the street, rescuing Kay from a group of thugs harassing her.

That same night, the thugs came for revenge. I fought them off with everything I had, screaming for Joel to run. They broke both my legs and threw me into the river.

Ever since, I couldn't stand the cold. Joel used to hold my feet against his chest every night, worried I'd never get warm.

Now I knelt on the frozen stone steps, my thin clothes doing nothing against the wind.

Through the glass, I could see Joel and Johnny laughing. Johnny acted like a little adult, plucking the wine glass from Kay's hand.

"Mommy has a baby in her tummy. No more drinking."

Joel pressed his cheek to Kay's belly. "Happy New Year," he murmured.

Snow piled on my shoulders. It melted and seeped through my clothes.

By the time I was on the verge of passing out from the cold, the door finally opened.

Kay and Joel emerged hand in hand. She gave me my orders.

"Go help them carry the fireworks."

I staggered to my feet. As I passed Joel, my legs buckled and I pitched forward.

Joel's hand shot out instinctively—but Old Mrs. Gilbert cleared her throat, and he slowly pulled it back.

I slammed into the sharp edge of the steps. Blood flooded my eyes.

Johnny pinched his nose and backed away in disgust. "Beggar blood is full of germs. Grandma, make her leave."

My mind drifted to when Johnny was born.

He came early, so frail he looked like a kitten. It felt like he might stop breathing if I looked away for a second.

The doctors told me to prepare for the worst. I sobbed until I couldn't breathe, then dragged my still-bleeding body up the mountain to the temple everyone said granted miracles—crawling on my knees, bowing with every step.

After that, I couldn't let him out of my sight. I fed him, changed him, did everything myself.

And this was the child I'd traded my life for. The child whose veins carried my blood.

He called me disgusting. Beneath him.

I wiped the blood from my face and followed the other servants to carry the fireworks.

Joel saw my bloodied face. Something flickered in his eyes—a shadow of concern.

He took a few steps toward me, but Kay called out for him to come light the fireworks.

All across the neighborhood, the sky exploded with color. Festive. Joyful.

Joel had promised me this year. He said he'd sneak Johnny over so we could watch the fireworks together.

Now I watched the three of them laughing and chasing each other across the lawn. My fingers tightened around the safety lock in my pocket.

I stood alone in the snow, half my body frozen numb.

Then Johnny came running over with a small box, grinning with excitement.

"I have a present for you!"

I stared at his innocent smile, my heart melting despite everything. I pulled out the safety lock and held it out to him.

"Thank you. This is my gift for you."

He took it and urged me to open the box.

My fingers trembled uncontrollably. The moment I lifted the lid, a string of firecrackers exploded in my face.

Searing pain tore through my eyes. Someone shoved me hard, and I crashed to the ground.

"Stupid beggar! You're so dumb!" Johnny's laughter rang out.

Sparks flew around me. I smelled burning flesh.

I scrambled blindly to the side. Everything was a blur. When I tried to open my eyes wider, the pain cut straight to the bone.

"Joel, it hurts..."

"Take me to the hospital... I can't see..."

No one answered. The laughter faded into the distance until there was nothing.

I curled up in the snow. My hand brushed against something cold—the safety lock I'd given Johnny.

In the last moment before everything went dark, I felt myself lifted into a warm embrace.