Eight years after my death, Donovan Blackwood ran into our son, Toby, selling handmade crafts in the cold November rain of Seattle's Pike Place Market.

In the incessant drizzle, our son's small face was pale, damp, and cold, his hands chapped raw by the biting wind.

Fury surged through him. He yanked Toby closer, brushing the clinging rain from his worn-out coat.

"Where is your mother? How could she leave you out here alone in this god-awful weather while she’s off living it up? I've never seen such an irresponsible mother!"

Toby, having no memory of this man, replied timidly, "My mom's not here anymore... Sir, would you like to buy a craft? I can give you a discount."

Blinded by rage, the deeper meaning of his son's words completely escaped him. He let out a harsh, furious laugh.

"What, is she still holding a grudge? Is she deliberately tormenting our son to get back at me? Fine. You don't have to call her your mother anymore! Come with me. I'm taking you home!"

Toby struggled to pull away. "I don't know you, and you can't talk about my mom like that! If you touch me again, I'll scream for help!"

Donovan lost control and roared, "I am your father! Your biological father!"

"Is this how Hazel raised you? To not even recognize your own father? How long is she going to hold this grudge? Does she plan on taking it to her grave?"

My soul drifted nearby. I reached out, trying to push my son away, but my hand passed straight through his small body.

A bitter smile touched my lips.

Donovan, I'm not holding a grudge against you.

I'm just... already dead.

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1

Terrified of the man looming over him, Toby burst into tears.

But Donovan's rage didn't cool, his tirade only growing more intense.

"Look at this coat you're wearing! This thing probably cost fifty bucks, tops. It's freezing, and this is what she lets you wear outside?"

"What kind of mother is Hazel? After she's treated you like this, you're still defending her?"

Toby raised a trembling, frozen hand to wipe his tears, but Donovan's hand shot out and seized his wrist.

He roughly rolled up the sleeve.

"How did your hands get this raw? Where the hell is Hazel?"

"When we divorced, she fought tooth and nail for your custody, and this is how she raises you? What good is she? She might as well be dead for all the good she's doing you!"

My soul drifted between them as I tried desperately to explain.

It wasn't that I didn't want to take care of Toby; I was simply powerless.

The coat Toby was wearing was his best one, a hand-me-down from our neighbor Mrs. Gable's grandson.

But I could scream myself hoarse, and they wouldn't hear a word.

Crouching down, Donovan draped his own cashmere coat over our son's small shoulders and began to explain that he was his biological father.

It took Toby a long moment to process this news.

"So, Toby has a dad now? Does that mean I don't have to be outside anymore?"

Donovan nodded emphatically and took his son's hand to leave.

My neighbor, Mrs. Gable, had just finished a sale. When she turned and saw what was happening, she rushed over to stop them.

"Who are you? Are you trying to kidnap a child in broad daylight?"

"Let him go, or I'm calling the police!"

"Help! Someone's trying to snatch a child!"

Donovan's face darkened.

"This is my son!"

Mrs. Gable, fuming, planted her hands on her hips.

"So it's you! You're that bastard who cheated on his wife and abandoned his family! You have the nerve to come back!"

"Toby doesn't want you, so get lost!"

She tried to grab Toby, but Donovan's large frame blocked her completely.

"Is that what Hazel has been telling people about me?"

"She's let my son fall into this state; it's only right that I take him back!"

"Let's see who the police will side with when they arrive—you, a stranger, or me, his biological father!"

Hearing him speak about me like that, Mrs. Gable flared up.

"Hazel was nothing like what you're saying!"

"Then tell her to get her ass out here and confront me! How dare she even face me! My son's hands are nearly frozen solid, and she has the nerve to call herself a mother?"

"Hazel didn't neglect him, it's just that she's—"

Before she could finish, Donovan had already scooped up Toby and hurried into a black Tesla.

"It's just that she's already dead..."

Mrs. Gable sighed, watching his retreating figure.

"Hazel, this is all I can do to help you. Maybe this is just fate..."

Her eyes gradually reddened, and tears streamed down her face against her will.

I frantically reached to wipe her tears away, but my fingers passed straight through her cheeks, leaving me with nothing but a wry, hollow smile.

Right. Why do I keep forgetting I'm not even here?

I knew I had no right to blame her. She had already done more than enough for me by taking care of Toby for so long.

Maybe Mrs. Gable was right. This is fate.

With me gone, maybe it's not a bad thing for Toby to be taken away by Donovan.

At least, he won't have to suffer anymore...

But that woman in Donovan's house...

Donovan got into the car with Toby. The heater was blasting, making the car feel like another world compared to the wind and rain outside.

Toby stared at everything with wide-eyed wonder; he had never been inside a car in his life.

A wave of self-blame washed over me. For the first time, I regretted fighting so hard for his custody.

I was too selfish.

Donovan sat in the driver's seat and took a cigarette case from the inner pocket of his suit.

He brought a cigarette to his lips but didn't light it. Instead, he held it just under his nose, inhaling the scent of the tobacco before putting it back.

I was stunned.

When I was pregnant, I had begged him to quit smoking, but he'd refused no matter what.

Now, eight years later, he'd changed.

Apparently, true love really could make a man change.

The car drove all the way to a villa district by Lake Washington.

The villa glowed with light.

As soon as they entered, Ivy Scott, dressed in a silk nightgown, rushed to meet them.

"Darling, you're back! Mila just bet me you'd be working late again."

Hearing the name Mila, a bitter pang shot through my heart.

That was the name Donovan and I had once imagined for our daughter, Mila Hayes Blackwood.

Now, it belonged to his daughter with Ivy.

He had molded the once-humble intern into someone so elegant and refined, I barely recognized her.

But when her eyes fell on Toby, her smile froze.

"Who's this?"

"Darling, whose child did you bring home?"

Gazing at Toby's eyes and brows, which were so similar to mine, Ivy was visibly unsettled.

"It couldn't be Hazel's..."

"It is."

"I ran into him by chance on a business trip. He was so underdressed for the cold... I just snapped. I had to bring him home. Don't be upset."

A flash of jealousy crossed Ivy's eyes, but when she looked up again, her usual gentle expression had returned.

"Of course not, darling. Your son is my son."

"It's just... Hazel fought so hard to take the child back then. Now that you've brought him home without telling her, I'm afraid she'll cause a scene..."

At the mention of my name, Donovan's temper flared.

"A scene? What nerve would she have?"

"Look at the state she's left Toby in! If I hadn't brought him back, I doubt he would've made it through the winter!"

Toby struggled out from behind him.

"My mom's not like that! You can't say those things about her!"

My eyes burned.

Before he could finish his sentence, Toby's small body swayed, and he crumpled to the floor.

I desperately tried to catch him, but my hands passed right through his body.

Donovan pulled Toby into his arms and felt his forehead.

"He's burning up. Toby has a fever. You and Mila go ahead and eat, don't wait for me. I'm taking him to the hospital!"

He stood to leave, not forgetting to grab a child's down jacket to wrap Toby in.

Ivy stopped him.

"You don't have to go through all that trouble. We have children's fever medicine at home. Mila took it before, and it works really well."

"Thanks, you're always so thoughtful. I don't know what I would've done without you."

Ivy replied, almost through gritted teeth:

"It's what I should do. We're a family, after all."

"It's just, if Hazel finds out the child is missing—"

"Don't mention her to me. It would be best if Hazel just dropped off the face of the earth. Because if she doesn't, I'm not done with her!"

I knew Ivy kept bringing me up because she didn't want Toby to stay and wanted to poison Donovan's image of me even further.

But this time, she was truly overthinking it. In my current state, there was nothing I could do.

Toby took the medicine, and his fever soon subsided.

I floated by the head of the bed, not daring to even blink.

A wave of self-blame and guilt completely drowned me.

Before I could even breathe a sigh of relief, the door was suddenly pushed open.

I was met with a face that was a miniature version of Donovan's.

Mila, wearing a pink princess dress, bounced over to the bed.

Toby's eyes fluttered open at that moment.

Before he could speak, the little girl raised her tablet and slammed it into Toby.

"So you're the little beggar Dad dragged home? You're filthy. Haven't you bathed in years? Who said you could sleep in my room!"

She grabbed a slipper and began thrashing Toby's back with it.

"Get out! You ugly freak, get out!"

Toby was too weak to speak clearly:

"I'm not a beggar..."

"Dad said I'm his son, and that lady said no one was using this room..."

The little girl put her hands on her hips, looking down on him.

"Who said no one's using it? This is my dolls' room!"

Mila threw back the covers, revealing an exquisite doll lying quietly on the other pillow.

Toby's eyes instantly reddened.

"I'm sorry, I won't stay here. I'll leave right now."

He had just pushed himself up when the girl gave him a hard shove.

He tumbled headfirst, hitting the floor with a heavy thud.

Toby hadn't cried when he fell, nor when he was called a beggar.

But when his hand flew to his neck and found the necklace gone, his composure shattered. Tears welled in his red-rimmed eyes.

"Where's my necklace? Give it back to me!"

Mila dangled the silver chain in her hand before throwing it out the window.

"What is this piece of trash? I wouldn't be caught dead with it! If you want it, go crawl and get it!"

"Your mother is a slut, and you're the little bastard she birthed! Your whole family is trash! Go to hell!"

Toby could endure any humiliation, but he could not stand anyone insulting his mother.

And that necklace, the one thrown away, held the sketch of our 'dream home' and a lock of my hair.

A sudden fire surged through his small frame. He shoved Mila to the ground and slapped her hard across the face.

I rushed forward, shouting anxiously:

Toby, don't hit her! They'll throw you out, and you'll never have a home again!

It's okay, I wanted to tell him. I'm already dead, so their words can't hurt me!

But he couldn't hear my voice, his little face contorted with rage.

Just as the slap landed, the bedroom door flew open.

Donovan, enraged by the sight, burst in and kicked his son, sending the small boy flying.

"What are you doing! Mila is your sister! Who gave you the right to hit her!"

"Is this how Hazel raised you?!"

Toby, already weak from his fever, slammed his back hard against the wall, his small face twisting in pain.

"Mom never taught me this! She started it! She stole Mom's memento!"

The small child didn't know what it was, only that it was the only thing I had left him.

Donovan let out a furious laugh.

"Memento? She's not even dead and you're talking about mementos? What, is she practicing for her own funeral?"

"No wonder you turned out like this!"

A cunning glint flashed in Mila's eyes as she covered her face and wailed even louder.

"Daddy, is my face ruined? It hurts so much..."

Hearing this, Donovan strode downstairs.

When he reappeared, he was holding the silver necklace.

"Was it for this?"

"Let me tell you right now, I will not allow anything of Hazel's in my house!"

Toby screamed:

"No!!"

But it was too late.

He slammed the necklace against the marble fireplace. The pendant shattered instantly, spilling the folded sketch and the lock of hair inside.

"That was my mom's... She's already dead! Why? Why did you have to take away the last thing she left me!"

"I don't want a dad anymore! I hate you, Dad!"

Donovan froze, the color draining from his face.

Ivy entered just then, catching the last sentence.

"Toby, how could you say that about your own mother?"

"She didn't take good care of you, and we don't blame her for that, but you can't just lie and say she's dead. Are you trying to make your father sad on purpose?"

The shock gave way to a white-hot rage fueled by betrayal.

He went berserk, smashing everything in the room.

"Why doesn't someone like Hazel just really die!"

"To think she'd stoop to such a vile lie, and even teach a child to deceive me! How could I have been so blind, so stupid, to ever love her!"

"Deceiving me once eight years ago wasn't enough, now she has to do it again! She's hopeless!"

The air instantly froze.

Outside, the rain poured in sheets.

The silence in the room was absolute.

I closed my eyes in despair.

It had been eight years. I never would have thought Donovan's resentment could run so deep.