In the dead of night, my son wailed. I gazed upon his fragile, thin face, and the anger within me simmered, threatening to boil over.

Cathrine, unaware, had once again surreptitiously taken the breast milk I had painstakingly prepared and stored in the refrigerator that morning. She was oblivious to the fact that I had substituted it with an ordinary formula.

Jeremy's absence left me cautious, restraining me from acting on my impulses. Yet, the moment I stepped into the house that night, Cathrine hurled the bottle at my feet.

"Why did you replace the breast milk with formula? Are you trying to starve my grandson?"

She questioned me as her eyes widened with feigned concern for Xavier.

Little did others know that she had been secretly giving away my breast milk.

"Cathrine, what are you implying? Questioning me? As Xavier's biological mother, I know best what he should be drinking," I retorted.

My gaze remained steady as I slowly bent to retrieve the bottle.

"Moreover, I'm uncertain where the nutrients from my breast milk are truly going." My words were laced with a veiled insinuation.

She looked stricken. Her eyes narrowed to sharp points.

"What do you mean by that?"

I let out a soft laugh, "Xavier is growing; breast milk alone isn't sufficient for his nutritional needs anymore. I've consulted a doctor, who says formula is more appropriate for him now."

"Bullshit! I've raised a child before; I know better than you that Xavier needs breast milk. Formula can't compare to the nutrition in breast milk. Don't neglect my grandson just to spare yourself the trouble."

I couldn't suppress a sneer, thinking why I had somehow managed to preserve her reputation.

Just as I was on the verge of unveiling her duplicity, the phone in my pocket vibrated to life.

As the name "Jeremy" illuminated the screen, I stole a glance at Cathrine. For a brief moment, a radiant spark of joy danced across her features.

She stood as an amused spectator to a drama in the living room. I frowned, retreating to my room with the phone in hand. A sense of foreboding settled in my heart.

"Yvonne, have you been arguing with my mother again?"

The question was expected; I knew Cathrine would try to manipulate me first.

"Darling, did she complain about me to you?"

Usually, when I asked, Jeremy's demeanor would immediately mellow, and he might even apologize on his mother's behalf. But today, he deviated from his usual self, interrogating me with an uncharacteristic harshness.

"How can you, in your youth, dare to speak to my mother with such audacity? She merely mentioned that you weren't taking proper care of Xavier."

The villain indeed cried out first. I didn't dwell much on Jeremy's peculiar behavior but recounted the events of the past few days, deliberately omitting my suspicions of Cathrine's infidelity.

However, on the matter of the stolen milk, I remained steadfast.

"You keep insisting that your mother acts in Xavier's best interest, so why would she swap his nourishment?"

After I posed this question, Jeremy fell silent for a long while before finally uttering a response.

"My mother is Xavier's grandmother. She would never harm him."

He was clearly evading the issue. His mother accused me of mistreating his son, and he believed her without question. Yet, when I accused his mother of the same, he refused to accept it. His mother was Xavier's grandmother, but I was Xavier's biological mother!

The fire I had been containing grew stronger until it became unbearable. I shouted at the phone.

"Do you believe your mother over me?"

I stubbornly sought an answer, but he offered only vague, dismissive responses.

"Yvonne, don't be upset; that's not what I meant."

"Do you believe what you're saying?"

After disconnecting the call, I was left with a profound sense of disappointment. Yet, when I saw my son peacefully asleep in his bed, I couldn't bring myself to consider divorce.

Marriage was a tangled web. I thought I had prepared myself adequately before walking down the aisle, but I must admit that I still couldn't navigate it with composure.

Yet, Cathrine was so shameless, devoid of any moral compass. Exploiting my supposed lack of filial piety, she adopted a child and raised him alongside Xavier in our home.

"Are you out of your mind?"

A mix of disbelief and outrage consumed me. Neither Jeremy nor Alfred had raised a voice against this preposterous plan.

With their backing, Cathrine stood beside me and held her head high like a rooster, claiming victory.

In her arms, she cradled a baby, younger even than Xavier.

"This is the child Alfred and I adopted. He is your son now. Just as you've nurtured Xavier, your duty to care for another child endures unchanged. You must treat these two children equally in the future, especially when it comes to breastfeeding."

The absurdity of it all left me reeling. My milk supply was already scarce, and now I was expected to share it with this strange child.

I pondered silently, "Could it be that my breast milk Cathrine had stolen before was meant for this child?" I couldn't help but scrutinize the child, who bore a resemblance to Cathrine, particularly around the eyes and eyebrows.

During my pregnancy, Cathrine had vanished without a trace.

Given the strained ties between her and me, it was hardly surprising she hadn't graced me with her presence. In fact, she had been completely absent. It was the perfect window for her to have a child.

Could this child be Cathrine's illegitimate son?

The situation had spiraled beyond my wildest imaginings. Jeremy's family was a tangled mess.

Confronted by Cathrine's unyielding pressure, I sneered, gesturing toward her bedroom.

"Did Alfred know? Did he know about your sex with another man in that bedroom? Did he know this child might be your illegitimate son?"

Her face drained of color. Panic was etched into every line.

"Don't worry. I can keep a secret. But this will only hold true if we both agree to keep our distance from one another."

I cast a disdainful glance at the child beside her.

"If you persist in confronting me with these vile and odorous matters, intent on repulsing me, even if it heralds the apocalypse, I will ensure your reputation lies in ruins."

My threat had the desired effect; Cathrine fled with the child, never to parade him before me again.

Yet, I wavered. Even armed with evidence of her infidelity, what did it truly matter? What if her betrayal came after Alfred's passing?