I stopped listening and walked away faster.

The moment I stepped out the door, I ran straight into Edgar.

Just like before, I acted as if I hadn't seen him and didn't slow down at all.

He suddenly seized my wrist and said in a displeased tone, "Claude, is this how your grandma raised you? Don't you even have the decency to greet your own father when you see him?"

He stopped mid-sentence, cut short by the loathing in my eyes.

His face darkened. "Claude, what's with the attitude?"

Attitude? Me?

I didn't understand how he could bring up Grandma so righteously after what he had done.

I wrenched my hand free from his grip and said coldly, "You have no right to bring up Grandma!"

I turned and walked away.

Behind me came Edgar's furious voice. "You little punk! She was my mother—I'll bring her up all I want!"

A whole week went by, and I still wasn't able to find a job. Thus, I had no choice but to buy a ticket home first.

After arriving home, I took some fruits and went to visit Grandma's old friends at the nearby nursing home.

I sat in the garden and chatted with them for a long while.

Then, someone brought up Edgar's name, and the atmosphere suddenly froze.

After a long pause, Laurie Guthrie said hesitantly, "Your father actually called here a few days ago asking what you've been up to lately. I just told him you'd gone to the capital, Pemberton, to look for work."

Beside her, Melvin Hickman rapped his cane hard against the ground.

"What's the point of telling that bastard so much? Claude is outstanding enough without needing to rely on him!"

Ms. Guthrie tugged at his sleeve, but he only grew more worked up.

"Did I say anything wrong? Trudy raised him like her own son, and how did he repay her? All those years, he couldn't even be bothered to call her once. Did he ever lift a finger in raising Claude?

"And now, all of a sudden, he remembers he's got a son? Well, it's a little late for that. Real shrewd, that one."

Mr. Hickman pressed a big orange into my hand as he spoke. "Claude, eat up! I've got everything here. We don't need his stinky money."

I took a bite. The juice burst in my mouth—it was a little sour.

Actually, Mr. Hickman was right. Edgar really was very clever.

Growing up, he was always top of his class.

In middle school, he even started a little side business at school reselling comic books, just to buy himself a pricey watch.

In high school, a teacher even paid Grandma a visit to suggest that Edgar attend a summer program at Pemberton College.

Back then, Grandma looked at Edgar with nothing but pride in her eyes.

That was, until he was brought down by a woman—twice.

And she was none other than my mother, Dawn Fuller.

When she cheated on him with another man, she was already six months pregnant with me.

Edgar came back to Grandma's house and refused to eat or drink for days on end.

One day, Grandma made a bowl of soup and took it over.

"Edgar, don't starve yourself. Please just have a sip," she said coaxingly.

Edgar stared at that bowl of chicken soup, his eyes suddenly reddening.

"Do you know what Dawn said to me when we split up? She said my family was too poor and that I wasn't good enough for their high-society circle. She asked me, 'Your mother's just some lowly farmer—what makes you think you're worthy of being with me?'"

Grandma froze. It took a long while before she found her voice again.

"Edgar, let's not talk about people like—"

"Sometimes I wonder too—why did it have to be you?"

Edgar's eyes were downcast. He didn't look at Grandma, so naturally, he didn't see that her hands were trembling.

"If you're so poor, how did you have the money to adopt me? Don't you feel any guilt at all for making a child suffer alongside you?"

The bowl shattered on the floor with a crash, chicken soup splashing all over Grandma.

She looked at him as if he were a complete stranger, unable to utter a single word.

Afterward, Grandma sat alone in the living room for a very long time. Only when the sky began to lighten at dawn did she finally rise from the chair and shuffle over to make breakfast for Edgar.

No one ever brought up that day again, and it seemed as if the matter had simply passed.

Only Grandma knew that those words were like a thorn stuck in her throat. She could neither swallow them nor spit them out.

Once I was a bit older, Edgar left to find work elsewhere.

Edgar came home less than once a year. When Grandma called him, he'd either hang up before they'd exchanged so much as three sentences or just not pick up at all.

I was still young back then, so I couldn't understand why Grandma refused to place the receiver back onto the cradle when the other end had long since become the beep of the disconnected line.

It was as if she thought that if she just waited a little longer, the busy signal would turn back into Edgar's voice.

The first time I saw Edgar after I was old enough to remember was five years later, in the depths of a cold winter.

The snow was coming down heavily outside. Edgar pushed the door open, bringing in a gust of cold air with him.

His hands were full of bags, but he freed one up to ruffle my hair.

"Wow, you've grown so much taller," he said with a grin.

I felt a strange familiarity toward him. It was a feeling that made me want to run away, yet at the same time, it instinctively drew me toward him.

I burst into a loud wail and cried out helplessly for Grandma.

She rushed out of the kitchen, and when she saw Edgar, she froze too.

Edgar opened his arms and said with a smile, "Mom, I'm back."

Grandma nodded and quickly went to whip up something for Edgar to eat.

Edgar stopped her and said, "Don't bother. I bought takeout. Besides, there's something I need to tell you."

Dinner was well underway when Edgar, choosing his moment, gently put down his fork.

"Mom, I'm getting married at the end of this year."

Grandma was taken aback. "Why so sudden? I haven't even met your fiancee yet."

Edgar let out a couple of awkward laughs. "There's no need to meet her specially, because it's Dawn I'm marrying—Claude's mother. She came back to find me a while ago.

"She's changed a lot, and she also swore to me that she won't do it again. I've given it a lot of thought, and I still feel Claude shouldn't be without his mother."

Back then, I had no idea what the word "mother" even meant.

In the end, Grandma said nothing at all.

In the middle of the night, Grandma was taking me to the bathroom when we passed Edgar's room and heard the low, indistinct sound of him on the phone.

The next second, Grandma suddenly shoved the bedroom door open and said sharply, "What do you mean? She never cut ties with that other man at all?"

Edgar reflexively hung up the phone and hurried to deny it. "No, Mom. You heard wrong."

Grandma said nothing. Instead, she just stared at the bruises trailing out from beneath Edgar's short sleeves.

She strode over and, despite Edgar's attempts to stop her, lifted his shirt. Dense scars and bruises crawled over his body.

Grandma's hand trembled uncontrollably.

"Did Dawn and her family do this to you?"

"No, I fell down myself."

Even a child like me could tell those were marks from a beating.

Grandma saw the redness around Edgar's eyes and shook all over.

"Edgar, I don't approve of this marriage!"

Edgar gritted his teeth and suddenly yelled back, "What right do you have to tell me what to do? If it weren't for you, Dawn and her family wouldn't even look down on me!"

He suddenly pointed at me. "Do you know what she calls Claude? A dead weight! She doesn't even want this brat!"

"So what if you're not with her? I can take care of you for the rest of my life!" Grandma shouted, tears streaming down her face.

Edgar was silent for a moment. Then, he said quietly, "But I want to be with her. I don't want to spend my whole life with you."

With that, he turned and ran off into the night.

I hid behind Grandma, my whole body shaking as I gripped her sleeve.

"Grandma, am I a dead weight? Is it because of me that Daddy isn't happy?"

Grandma opened her mouth, but not a single word came out.

After a long moment, she knelt on the floor and pulled me into her arms, trembling.

"You're not a dead weight. You are my precious grandson."

From then on, Grandma and Edgar seemed locked in a quiet standoff. There was no more conversation between them, and I became the only go-between.

Until one day, when Grandma was tidying up, she noticed that the family's lockbox of important papers was missing.

Also missing was the savings passbook that had been hidden at the bottom of the cabinet.

By the time Grandma and I arrived at the city hall, Edgar and Dawn had just walked out. The marriage certificate in their hands was blindingly white.

Grandma stood in front of them and said in a trembling voice, "Give me back the passbook!"

Dawn furrowed her brows and cast a displeased look at Edgar.

Edgar hurried forward and took Grandma's hand.

"Mom, whatever you have to say, let's go home and talk about it," he said in a hushed tone.

Grandma pulled away from him, her eyes reddening.

"Edgar, if you're foolish enough to marry into her family, I won't stop you. But you can't steal from me! That's the death benefit from when your father died!"

Grandma's voice rang out clearly through the entire hall. In an instant, all eyes turned toward them.

Edgar lowered his voice to almost a pleading whisper. "Mom, Dawn's brother, Stuart Fuller, needs the money right now to start his business. Once his project takes off, we'll pay you back with interest, okay?"

"So what if her brother needs money? She's no daughter-in-law of mine. If you don't hand back that passbook right now, don't even think about leaving!"

The hall was bustling with people coming and going. Countless pairs of eyes fell upon us.

I watched helplessly as the light in Edgar's eyes dimmed little by little, until it finally turned into a coldness I had never seen before.

He stopped pleading and silently fixed his gaze on me. When the sharp knife pressed against my neck, I saw the panicked look on Grandma's face.

"Move aside!" Edgar roared, his voice so loud that it nearly pierced my eardrums.

I called out "Daddy" in a trembling voice, but he snapped hoarsely as if he'd been stung. "Don't call me 'Daddy!'"

Grandma watched all of this, barely able to breathe.

"Edgar, that is your own son!"

Edgar trembled and cried out, "This is all your fault! You're the one who drove me to this!"

He accidentally grazed my chin with the knife, and warm blood trickled down my neck.

In the last second before I passed out, I saw Grandma's legs finally give way, and she collapsed heavily onto the ground.

When I woke up, I found myself lying in my own bed.

Grandma's eyes were vacant as she held my hand, her back slumped.

I couldn't make a single sound, but the words "Don't call me Daddy" kept echoing in my mind.

I held onto Grandma's hand as tears silently streamed down my face.

Later, I heard that Edgar and Dawn were going to hold their wedding ceremony on an island abroad.

On the day they departed, my grandfather Terrance Booker's grave was dug up. The excavator bore the name of Dawn's company, gleaming impossibly bright.

It smashed the coffin apart, and Grandpa's ashes were thrown to the wind.

Grandma wailed and wept, but there was nothing she could do to stop it. In the end, she crumpled to the ground and blacked out.

I called Edgar.

"Grandma has fallen ill, and the hospital requires a family member to sign off on the emergency treatment. Come back now!"

From the other end of the line came airport announcements, along with the cheerful voices of Dawn's relatives offering their congratulations.

After what felt like forever, Edgar let out an icy laugh and said, "How convenient of your grandma to get sick right before my plane takes off. I'm telling you, she just can't stand me and is dead set on ruining my wedding!"

"No, that's not it! It's because the construction crew dug up Grandpa's—"

"Enough! She's spent her entire life alone since her husband died, and that's why she can't stand to see me happy. Claude, if you keep siding with your grandma and making trouble, I'm through with you."

With that, he hung up abruptly.

The doctor came over and silently shook his head at me.

"We've already missed the critical window for resuscitation."

The memories stretched on too long. When I came back to myself, night had already fallen.

I tossed away the orange peel in my hand and started walking home.

But halfway there, I saw that familiar Maybach.

Edgar got out of the car and came striding over, his face tight with urgency. He grabbed my hand, his eyes reddening.

"Claude, why are they saying your grandma's dead?" he asked in disbelief.