When I got home, the house was quiet.

Zachary should still be napping at this hour.

I gently pushed open his door, careful not to make a sound that might wake him. But the music coming from the room made my blood run cold.

He was watching a dance video of Julia.

I bit my lip tightly and stood by the door, waiting silently as he watched the entire routine.

When the video ended, Zachary looked a little lost.

“Dad hasn’t taken me to see Aunt Julia in so long,” he murmured, holding his cheek. “If only Aunt Julia were my mom. Then I could see her every day.”

Every ounce of strength left my body, and my heart felt like a raw wound had been torn open.

So Zachary had already met Julia. So, in his heart, she mattered more than I did.

I stumbled, making a slight noise, which caught Zachary’s attention.

“Mom!” He flipped the tablet over and looked at me anxiously. “When did you get back?”

I saw hesitation in his eyes. Taking a deep breath, I deliberately asked, “What were you watching?”

His eyes darted away. “Cartoons!”

“Mom, where have you been? Zachary woke from his nap and noticed you weren’t here!” He climbed out of bed and threw himself into my arms.

He was bigger than most kids his age, and the force of his hug sent a sharp ache through my knees.

My vision blurred, and I collapsed to the floor, tears streaming uncontrollably.

“Mom, why are you crying again?” Zachary asked, anger creeping into his voice instead of concern. “I just wanted you to hold me, and you’re crying like that. Not like Julia…”

He quickly stopped himself, obviously warned by Alan not to mention Julia around me. Zachary curled his lips in frustration. “Other kids have their moms holding them, but you? You’re always complaining about pain. How can you be a mom like that? Humph!”

I stood frozen, watching him run circles around me and then head downstairs.

This is the child I fought so hard to bring into this world. This is the child I raised, despite the unbearable pain.

I curled up on the floor, my tears forming a small puddle beneath me.

On the way home, my mind kept circling the question: What should I do with this child?

This child I carried for ten months, even if not of my blood, I raised him with my whole heart.

Loving him had become instinct, part of who I am. I wanted to take him with me.

But now, I realize—it’s unnecessary.

When Alan returned and heard what happened that afternoon, he rushed over without even changing.

His warm hand pressed gently to my knee, his face filled with worry and distress.

“Tell me, where does it hurt?”

His warmth made me feel queasy. “Zachary’s carelessness is to blame. I’ll have to teach him a lesson later. Nina, I’ll take you to the hospital first.”

“No, it’s not necessary.” I pushed his hand away gently and forced a smile. “It’s just an old injury. Nothing serious. A warm compress will do.”

Alan’s phone suddenly vibrated. He glanced at the screen, then touched my face softly.

“I have work to finish. I’m going to the study. You should get some rest.”

“Okay.” I nodded but quietly followed him once he left.

Alan lit a cigarette and dropped his phone on the table, leaving it on speaker. “What’s going on?”

“Nina performed a dance for me—a routine she’s never shown publicly before,” Zech’s voice echoed through the room. “Have Nina do it again, record it, and send the video to Julia.”

Alan hesitated. “Nina’s knee is acting up again. We can’t let her move around like that.”

“Stop making excuses. Julia needs it for the competition. You want to record it or not?”

Alan was silent for a moment. “Fine. I got it.”

“Dad!” Zachary, who had been quietly hiding in the study, suddenly appeared. Alan ended the call and asked, “Did you hurt Mom today?”

“I didn’t mean to...” Zachary sounded guilty. “I just wanted Mom to hold me. But she’s so useless! She cries whenever I touch her, unlike Aunt Julia—she holds me and spins me around!”

He hesitated, then asked shyly, “Dad, can we invite Aunt Julia over to play? I miss her!”

“Go apologize to Mom first. I’ll bring Aunt Julia over tomorrow.”

“Yeah! It’s a deal!”

I hurried back to my room, and soon Alan came in with Zachary.

Alan nudged Zachary, who stepped forward, head down, mumbling, “Mom, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

I said nothing, only watching him quietly.

Zachary looked up, eyes wide.

How had I never noticed before how much his eyes resembled Julia’s? He was so good at playing the weak, pitiful child—the tenderhearted act.

I whispered, “Go wash your hands and get ready for dinner.”

Assuming I’d forgiven him, Zachary smiled, winked at Alan, and skipped away.

Alan helped me sit on the bed. “Should I call a doctor?”

I shook my head. “It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

“I still want to see a doctor to be sure.” He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and whispered in my ear, “Nina, why don’t you dance for that kid, Zech?”

His lips brushed my ear, teasing softly, “Let the doctor heal your leg first. Then you can dance for me, too, okay?”

A bitter taste rose in my throat. That dance was hard enough for a healthy dancer—let alone for me now.

After winning gold at the Global Dance Competition, I’d impulsively danced for Zech once. The next day, after the celebration banquet, the car accident happened—and I never danced again.

In five years, Alan had never touched my scars. This was the first time he asked to see me dance.

Meeting his expectant eyes, my hands, hidden under the blanket, slowly clenched into fists.

Of course—as long as it was for Julia, he didn’t care about me.

I nodded, and he left satisfied.

The next morning, Zachary woke early, bubbling with excitement.

Alan returned early that afternoon. “Julia heard you were hurt and came to see you.”

Julia stood beside him, looking down at me. “Long time no see, Nina. Are you okay?”

I sat in my wheelchair and smiled faintly. “I’ll be fine.”

Leave this place, and everything will be fine.

Alan, six days left—and I won’t be fooled by you again.

“Hello, Aunt Julia!” Zachary suddenly popped out from behind me, puffing out his chest and proudly announcing, “I’m Zachary!”

Thinking I couldn’t see, he cheekily stuck his tongue out at Julia. “Dad told me you’re an amazing dancer! I really look up to you!”

Julia shot me a proud glance, crouched down to stroke Zachary’s hair gently, and said softly, “Thank you, Zachary. Auntie is very happy to hear that.”

“But your mom used to be even better than you,” I added quietly.

Zachary cocked his head, staring at me in disbelief. “Mom can dance too?”

Alan had hidden my dancing shoes and trophies, so Zachary had no idea about my past. He quickly said, “Aunt Julia, you’re wrong. Mom can’t do anything. Her legs shake after just a few steps. She can’t even manage as a housewife, so how could she dance?”

“Zachary,” Alan scolded sternly, “Don’t talk about Mom like that.”

Zachary pouted unhappily, but Julia, clearly pleased, pinched his cheek affectionately.

“Alan, I want to speak with Nina alone,” Julia whispered sweetly, tugging on Alan’s sleeve. “Remember? We were roommates in college.”

Yes, Julia was my college roommate—and I was the one who introduced her to Zechariah.

I used to think we were friends...

Alan gently took the reluctant Zachary away, while Julia wheeled me toward the gym on the first floor.

She moved confidently, clearly familiar with the house, showing no intention to hide anything.

As soon as the door shut behind us, Julia dropped her act and kicked my wheelchair hard. I grabbed the wheel, but it slipped, sending me crashing sideways. My knee slammed painfully against the metal frame, and a cold sweat broke out on my forehead.

“How does it feel to be trapped in a wheelchair?” Her fingers, painted a bright red, tangled fiercely in the strands of my hair, pulling hard.

I groaned in pain but forced a smile. “Try sitting in it yourself—you’d understand.”

Julia’s expression froze cold as she pinched my chin sharply. “You’re nothing but a broken toy for others to play with. Who do you think you’re fooling with your fake superiority?”

I grabbed her collar. “You’re a different person now. Do you still have nightmares about your father?”

Back in college, Julia often cried out in her sleep, begging, “Don’t hit me!” and “Please!” I asked her many times what was wrong, but she always shut me out.

It wasn’t until I found bruises on her body that I realized her father was abusing both her and her mother. I wanted to call the police, but she clutched my hand tightly and begged through tears, “Please don’t let anyone find out.”

I had no choice but to speak with my mother, who helped connect Julia with a support fund.

Julia’s face twisted in anger, her grip tightening. “How dare you bring up my father? Every time your mother’s people come by, he beats me worse than before!”

“You and your mother pretend to help me, but it’s just a performance to satisfy your own savior complex. You never stopped to think about what I’ve been through!”

She slapped my hand away, her nails leaving a long scratch across my forearm.

“You don’t know the truth—Zech and I are married.” Julia lifted her hand to show the diamond ring gleaming on her finger. “If I shed a few tears, every man around you will fall at my feet.”

She curled her lip and looked away, scanning the room.

I felt trapped, like a helpless prey caught by a venomous snake.

Julia picked up a dumbbell and smiled brightly. “Zech’s like this—do you think Alan will be the same?”