The sky hung low, heavy clouds pressing down on the cemetery on the western edge of the city. Etched in cold stone on the headstone was a young, handsome photo of my son, Yosef Braun.

His smile was bright, as if he had only left temporarily, but below the photo were the dates that marked the brief span of his life.

Isaac and I stood in front of the grave. His tall frame was slightly hunched and the umbrella in his hand tilted gently in my direction, trying to shield me from more of the rain and wind.

I turned to look at him. His side profile looked rigid with tension, the dark circles under his eyes were so deep they seemed impossible to fade and his entire being was draped in sorrow.

Yet, I alone knew the truth that while some of these grievances might truly be for his blood-related son, the biggest part was more likely for the unexpected disruption of the “correction” plan.

I kept my eyes locked on the photo of my son, but my mind kept replaying the findings the lawyer had uncovered.

My son had been preparing for my sixtieth birthday party at the birthday venue when he received a phone call and rushed out of the banquet hall. After the car accident, the vehicle that caused the accident did not stop at all and vanished into the dark, rainy night.

My son had died trying to save me.

No mother could possibly move on from that. The pain was truly unbearable.

“… By the mercy of the Lord, may His faithful servant Yosef Braun be received into eternal light and rest...” The pastor's voice seemed to come from a faraway place.

Just then, the sound of footsteps approaching suddenly sounded. Hearing that, my body stiffened and I turned my head.

Sofia appeared in a perfectly tailored black suit, holding a dainty black lace-trimmed umbrella. Beside her stood a tall, slim young man, Jack Miller.

He was dressed in a brand-new black suit, looking a bit nervous. His eyes darted everywhere, unable to see directly at the photo on the tombstone.

I once had so much sympathy for this “poor child” my best friend had raised out of wedlock. I treated him like my half-son. I cared for his well-being, helped him and even used Isaac’s company resources to open doors for him.

And Sofia had always been deeply grateful, calling me the savior of her and her son.

At this moment, under the cold rain, every lie was being washed clean.

I stared hard at Jack’s young face.

Those brows… that bridge of his nose … the line of his jaw… the expression he made when he pressed his lips together … Now, upon closer inspection, he bore an uncanny resemblance to the man standing beside me, who was sunk in sorrow, Isaac.

So, the clown in this story had always been me.

Sofia stepped closer. Her eyes locked on me and Isaac. Her voice trembled with suppressed sobs. "Riley, Isaac, I’m so sorry for your loss. Jack and I are here to see Yosef off one last time.”

Her gaze darted quickly over Isaac's grief-stricken face before settling back on me. Beyond the feigned sorrow, there was a hint of inexpressible excitement lurking within.

Jack kept his head down and muttered, "Uncle … Auntie … I’m sorry for your loss.”

Isaac seemed to be jolted out of his daze by their arrival. He lifted his bloodshot eyes and looked deeply at Jack and gave him a nearly imperceptible nod, then murmured something vague before his gaze turned unfocused once again to the cold, wet gravestone.

I turned away because I couldn’t bear to look anymore.

The funeral ended in cold, stifling silence.

The ride back was deathly quiet.

I leaned against the cold car window, staring blankly at the rain streaming past outside. Every wound on my body that had not yet healed was screaming in pain, but none compared to the cold, bone-chilling void in my heart.

Isaac sat beside me. After a long silence, he finally spoke, “Riley …”

He paused, as if searching for the right words before saying, "Yosef had already gone and I know there is nothing that can make up for it, but … life had to go on. Sofia and her son are just a widow and an orphan. And with Jack having just graduated from university, he needs someone to give him a hand."

He turned his head to look at me, his voice tinged with a barely perceptible hint of hesitation. “I think we should bring Jack into the company. Let him start from the bottom, so he can get familiar with the business and gradually move him up to the management level. After all, we have to make plans for the living, don't you agree?"

I stared at him and laughed coldly.

Let Jack join the company? Groom him for a management level? Taking care of Sofia, a widow and her “poor son”? Aren't those just excuses to pave the way for his biological son, under the guise of "taking care" and "making plans for the living"? How eager he was!

I clenched my hands and replied hoarsely, “Do whatever you want. I’m not in the mood to care.”

Hearing my words, Isaac looked at ease. He gripped my hand in a show of affection.

But I immediately pulled my hand away. Besides, once I recovered all my assets, the company would likely head toward bankruptcy and what happened to it in the future had nothing to do with me.

The heavy wrought-iron gate slowly closed behind us. A servant silently took the soaked black coats from me and Isaac.

Just as I was dragging my legs, which felt as heavy as if they were filled with lead, towards the stairs, under the warm, bright light of the living room, two figures that shouldn't be here suddenly appeared in my sight.

Sofia had changed into a soft, off-white cashmere sweater and was sitting on the expensive leather sofa in the living room. Jack, like a child who had done something wrong, stood beside the sofa with his head bowed, his hands fidgeting nervously.

A surge of anger instantly replaced my fatigue and surged straight to my head. “Why are they here?” My voice carried a bone-chilling coldness and unmasked accusation, shattering the hypocritical calm of the living room.

Isaac lifted his head. The heavy grief from the funeral still lingered on his face, now tinged with a touch of awkwardness and irritation.

He avoided my burning gaze and cleared his throat before speaking in a tired, almost matter-of-fact tone. "Riley, you’ve been through so much... I just didn’t feel comfortable leaving you alone. I thought it’d be good for Jack to stay here to accompany and talk with you for a while. It's better than being alone. Let them stay here for now to take care of you."

"Let them stay here?" My voice shot up in pitch. "You want them to move in? To ‘accompany me’? To ‘take care of me’?" Each rhetorical question was laced with scathing sarcasm and hatred. "Are you afraid I’ll die too slowly, or are you just impatient to have your little family reunion under my roof?"

"Riley, calm down!" Isaac’s face darkened, his tone growing stern. "I know you're grieving, but you can't be this unreasonable. Sofia means well! She genuinely wants to care for you. Just look at yourself right now..."

Sofia went pale under the ruthlessness of my words. Her eyes quickly rushed down her cheeks like a broken string of pearls that brought out a sense that she had been horribly wronged and misunderstood.

“Riley, how could you say that to me?” she sobbed softly. “I’m worried about you. Yosef is gone and you have no family left. Isaac is a man, so how could he know how to take care of someone? I genuinely wanted to come and take care of you.”

She cried with such sincerity that it looked like she might faint any second.

Isaac immediately stepped forward and supported her. His eyes, when he looked at me, filled with disapproval and blame, as if I were the unreasonable, ungrateful villain.

Sofia leaned against Isaac's arm and, while sobbing, made an even more absurd and repulsive suggestion, "Riley, for the sake of all our years as sisters … please let Jack stay here. After all, not only he is your nephew, but he’s always respected you like a mother."

She gave Jack, who was still frozen like a statue, a hard tug and her voice suddenly turned desperate and manic. "Jack! Quick, beg your Aunt Riley! Beg her to let you stay and take care of her. And … and …."

She looked at Isaac, then back at me and as if she’d finally made up her mind, her eyes blazed with determination. "Let Jack recognize Isaac as his godfather. That way, he becomes your godson and we’ll be a real family. In the future, he can take Yosef’s place to be filial to you and care for you in your old age. Riley, please … take pity on us, a widow and son and give yourself and Isaac, a little something to hold onto too."

"Recognize Isaac as Jack's godfather?" That word hit me like thunder, leaving me frozen in place.

I stared blankly at the scene before me … at Sofia’s tear-streaked face, Isaac’s satisfied expression and Jack's eyes that glinted with a hint of hidden longing.

Suddenly, a sharp, metallic taste surged in my throat. “Pfft—!”

Just before losing consciousness, I heard myself scream a broken roar that filled with every last ounce of hatred I had left, “Get ... Out...”

When I woke up again, I was in the master bedroom. I struggled to force open my eye, only to see Isaac standing beside me, looking so worried.

“Riley, you’re awake?” His voice was low and gentle, laced with just the right amount of concern and pity. He was acting as if the intense confrontation at the funeral, in the living room and the blood I had spit out had never happened.

“How are you feeling? The doctor has already come by to examine you. He said you had a heart attack due to a sudden surge of anger, so you need to rest and avoid any further stimulation," he explained

He carefully helped me sit up and then tenderly brought a glass of water to my lips.  

I lowered my eyes, staring at my pale, almost translucent fingers.

These hands once held this family together, but now, they didn’t even have the strength to clench.

Isaac watched me in silence. After a moment, he seemed to come to a decision. Carefully, he pulled out a delicate, gold-embossed envelope from the pocket of his robe.

“Riley,” he coaxed, his voice even softer now.

“I know this period has been too painful for you. The matter with Yosef… and the kidnapping… I want to take you away from here, just the two of us, to find some peace and clear our minds," he continued.

Then, he gently placed the gold-embossed envelope on the silk blanket covering me. The envelope featured an abstract design of icy blue glaciers and snow-white auroras, with a line of elegant English text below, “A Romantic Journey to the Arctic.”

As soon as I saw the plane ticket, my heart clenched and a bone-chilling coldness surged through my spine, making my fingertips grow even colder.  

The Arctic? As in the land of ice and snow that symbolizes eternity and exile? How perfect. That's an ideal place for a “redemption” trip.

In a land where life is so fragile, who would question an “accident”? They’d never even find my body.

Isaac did not realize how my body stiffened or the storm churning in the depths of my eyes. He remained immersed in his own “loving” script. He leaned forward slightly with eyes glowing with anticipation toward me and his expression was full of approval.

“Riley, let’s start over, okay?" he pleaded. "Forget about the pain … It's just you and me.”

I slowly raised my eyes to look at Isaac's eyes, which were filled with pretend tenderness.

He couldn't possibly think I'd submit to his every arrangement like I had for the past forty years, including this “recreational trip” to hell, could he?

“Start over?” My voice was eerily calm. “Isaac, without our son, what exactly is there to start over from?”

His tender expression froze in a second, his eyes flickering with surprise and barely concealed irritation. He hadn’t expected me to reject his offer so bluntly.

“But…” I paused deliberately, my gaze lingering on the fake marriage certificate on the bedside table. “I’ve also come to realize that Sofia and her daughter have had it tough. Since we no longer have a son, recognizing you as their godfather is also a good thing.”

Isaac was stunned. He clearly hadn’t expected me to agree to the “adoption” so easily.

“Isaac,” I called out softly, “Although I agree to the adoption, you are still the head of the Braun Corporation. How can the matter of adopting a son that is so important be done in secret, like a thief?”

I met his bewildered eyes head-on and delivered the line that would both thrill him and nail him to the cross of humiliation for good, slowly. “Let’s throw a grand banquet. Five days from now.”

My voice was calm and composed, as if discussing the most ordinary household matter, “Invite every prominent figure, media outlet and business partner you can. I want you to acknowledge Jack as your son in front of everyone, with dignity and honor. Give him his rightful status and everything he deserves.”

“Let the whole city know that Isaac Braun has an heir again.”

Isaac shot up from the bed in an instant. He gripped my cold hand, which was on the quilt, tightly and asked, “Riley, are you serious?”

His voice cracked with excitement. “I knew it! I knew you still understood me the most. You ….”

Isaac was so excited. He acted as if he had been injected with adrenaline. Without saying another word, he turned and rushed out of the bedroom, eager to share this “great news” with Sofia.

He also wanted to prepare for the “reunion banquet” that would become the most glorious and most fateful turning point in his life.

The master bedroom fell silent once more.

I extended my pale, almost translucent fingers and gently traced the Arctic flight ticket that was with the aurora. The banquet was about to begin.