James had been gone the entire night, and when he finally returned in the early morning, I was still groggy from sleep. His clothes carried the distinct, sterile scent of hospital disinfectant, and his mood seemed unusually buoyant.

"How's David doing? Is his condition improving?" I asked, my voice filled with feigned concern as I approached him.

James arched an eyebrow.

"He's much better. Another month or so, and he should be fully recovered," he replied. His eyes shifted almost instinctively toward my son. "Make sure you're taking good care of Nicholas, too. It's easy for kids to catch colds this time of year."

I let out a derisive snort, choosing not to respond. At this point, of course, he wanted my son to stay perfectly healthy. After all, only if my son thrived could their precious David continue to live.

James exhaled tiredly as he shrugged off his coat. "I need to get some sleep. I've got to head to the office later." He started toward the bedroom, but before his hand could even touch the doorknob, his phone rang.

"James, come to the hospital quickly! Something's wrong with David!"

The tension in James's body was immediate and unmistakable. Standing beside him, I heard every word clearly.

"Got it. I'm on my way," he said hastily, pulling his coat back on.

"Was that Jess?" I asked, watching his hurried movements. "Did something happen to David?"

"Yes," he replied dismissively while fumbling with his buttons. "No time to explain now. I need to get to the hospital."

"I'm coming with you."

His body froze momentarily, but he quickly recovered, gesturing toward our son. "Who's going to look after Nicholas if you leave?"

Before I could respond, the bedroom door creaked open.

"I'll take care of Nicholas," a familiar voice chimed in.

"Wendy?" James's expression darkened as he turned to me, lowering his voice. "When did she get here?"

I smiled thinly. "Wendy loves Nicholas, so I asked her to help me take care of him for a few days."

Under the circumstances, James had no choice but to take me along.

At the hospital, Jess rushed forward and threw herself into James's arms.

"James, I'm so scared!" she whimpered.

The moment her eyes landed on me, however, her demeanor shifted. Clinging tightly to my husband, she shot me a triumphant, mocking glance.

"You're here too, Carrie?"

Ignoring her theatrics, I walked straight to the hospital bed. "You mentioned on the phone that something happened to David. What's wrong with him?"

Jess's tear-streaked face softened into a look of maternal anguish as she cradled her child. "I was feeding him earlier, but I accidentally dropped the bowl. The glass shattered, and a shard cut his face."

Her fingers gently grazed the bandaged wound on the boy's cheek. "But what scared me the most was that he didn't cry. I asked him if it hurt, and he just shook his head."

Her words only confirmed my suspicions. One of the symptoms of XYY syndrome was that his sensitivity to pain was much weaker than that of an ordinary person. Clearly, the bottle she'd gifted me had already begun to work its sinister magic.

"Are you sure he said it didn't hurt?" James asked, his face etched with genuine worry.

Jess nodded fervently. "He's fine now, but I just found it so strange."

She looped her arm through James's. "James, I'm just so afraid. What if something happens to David?"

I smiled, keeping my tone light. "But look at him now, sleeping so peacefully. There's nothing to worry about."

Jess's eyes flashed with anger at my calm demeanor. "Easy for you to say! He's not your child!"

Her retort was sharp, but I didn't rise to the bait. Instead, I reached out and gently smoothed the boy's hair. "We're all family, aren't we? I care about every child in this family. Besides, David looks so much like James—how could I not adore him?"

The room fell into an uneasy silence, the weight of my words settling heavily. After what felt like an eternity, James finally broke the tension with a stammer.

"Well, I am his uncle, after all. It's not strange for him to resemble me."

I nodded thoughtfully. "True. It just makes me wonder—who is his real father? Jess, you've never mentioned it before."

Jess's face went pale, her composure crumbling as she struggled to find a response. Sensing the situation spiraling out of control, James grabbed my arm and hastily led me out of the room.

On the drive home, his jaw remained tightly clenched. Finally, he broke the silence.

"Don't ask about Jess's private life again," he said.

"Why not?" I asked, feigning innocence.

After a long pause, he muttered, "It's her business. We shouldn't pry."

I didn't respond, but inwardly, I couldn't help but feel the bitter irony.

As we pulled into the neighborhood, my eyes caught sight of Derrick playing outside. Armed with a slingshot, he darted between bushes, gleefully hurling stones at unsuspecting passersby.

From a distance, I watched him for a long time, my anticipation quietly growing.

A week later, Jess appeared at my door, beaming with joy. Her arrival didn't surprise me in the slightest. What caught me off guard was the sight of David standing beside her, clutching her hand tightly.

"Is David's condition better now? Did the doctor allow him to leave the hospital?" I asked, my eyes widening in disbelief.

David had been a premature baby, born with underdeveloped organs and whisked straight to the NICU. He'd recovered enough to go home eventually, but trouble loomed again when, in third grade, he collapsed during a gym class.

He was rushed straight to the hospital, where the doctors discovered he had a heart issue. They estimated he had barely three months left.

That day, Jess had clung to James, crying for hours.

Feeling sorry for her, I had promised to cover the medical expenses. I even reached out to my business contacts, hoping someone could find a specialist for David. Yet, no precaution had prepared me for Jess setting her sights on my son's heart.

At my question, Jess awkwardly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Yes, the doctor says David's heart is suddenly fine now."

Her eyes sparkled as she added, "Carrie, isn't it strange?"

I shook my head, keeping my expression neutral. "It's good news, isn't it? He's finally discharged, that's what matters."

I stepped aside, inviting them in, though my gaze lingered on David. Something about him seemed… off, but Jess was too lost in her own happiness to notice.

"Carrie, how's Nicholas? Is he doing okay?" Her tone was casual, but her question sent a chill down my spine.

Feigning sadness, I sighed heavily. "Lately, he hasn't been eating well. He's always tired and just wants to sleep. I've been thinking of taking him to the hospital."

Her laughter rang out, bright and carefree. "A hospital? For what? Babies are like that. You worry too much, Carrie. Taking him to the hospital all the time will just make things worse."

I nodded absently. "You're right. Maybe I am overreacting."

As we spoke, Jess suddenly noticed David was no longer beside her. "Where's David? Did you see where he went?" she asked, glancing around in panic.

My eyes darted to the open door behind her, a sinking suspicion already forming. "Did he go outside?"

Before I could finish the thought, a scream pierced through the air from the opposite house.

"Who let this little brat in my house? How dare you make a mess here? I'll beat you to death!"

Jess's face turned pale as she bolted toward the noise. I followed close behind, only to find David locked in a scuffle with that troublemaker Derrick.

David was pinned to the ground, his leg twisted unnaturally, while Derrick stomped on him mercilessly. Bite marks covered David's bloodied body, but he didn't seem to feel the pain.

Jess let out a shriek, shoving Derrick aside and cradling her injured son in her arms.

David's face was streaked with blood, his tiny frame trembling, yet his expression remained unnervingly calm.

The neighbor stormed out, fury etched across her face. "You're his mother, aren't you? Can't you teach your son some manners? Look at what he did to my boy! Pay up!"

Seeing that the blame was being shifted onto her, Jess yelled, "I'm calling the cops!"

Jess's anger flared, but just as quickly, it flickered out. Her voice wavered as she crouched down and snatched the baby bottle from the woman's unsuspecting grip.

Her hands trembled, her eyes wide with dread. "W-Where did you get this bottle?"

Turning toward me, her gaze was filled with accusation and despair. Tears welled up as her voice cracked. "This… this is the bottle I gave to Nicholas, isn't it?!"