As for Casimir, although Natalia often berated him, his academic performance wasn’t bad. However, when he excitedly presented several awards to Natalia, she tore them into shreds right in front of him.

His face turned pale with fear.

"Getting a few awards makes you so smug, huh? No matter how hard you try, you’re still trash!" she snarled.

Natalia never held back her insults toward Casimir.

I figured it was because, in her eyes, Casimir was my son, and she truly hated me.

Her relentless spoiling of Nathan only made him despise me more. But since I controlled the family’s finances, Nathan was still afraid of me.

On the surface, he didn’t dare act out, but behind my back, his rebellion knew no bounds.

Meanwhile, under Natalia’s relentless oppression, Casimir grew increasingly twisted.

Time flew, and the boys reached high school.

One day, the driver brought them home. Nathan’s clothes were wrinkled, and there was a faint bruise at the corner of his mouth. But Casimir looked far worse—his face was bruised and swollen, and his arm was cut.

Natalia, her eyes red with worry, rushed to Nathan. "Nathan, you’re hurt! Does it hurt? Are you okay?"

Then, without a second thought, she kicked Casimir several times. "You worthless brat! Didn’t I tell you to protect Nathan? If you can’t fight, at least take the hits for him!"

Natalia had purposely arranged for the two boys to be in the same class so Casimir could look after Nathan.

Casimir endured the blows silently, gritting his teeth without uttering a sound.

I finally stepped in to stop her violent outburst.

After some questioning, I learned what had happened.

Nathan had been provoked by the school bully. Unable to control his temper, he attacked the bully first.

But he couldn’t win, and it was Casimir who took most of the beating on his behalf.

The more Nathan explained, the more embarrassed he became.

When Natalia learned the truth, she merely snorted coldly. "He should take the hits for Nathan—it’s an honor for him!"

Then she turned back to Nathan, anxiously fussing over him. "Nathan, are you sure you’re okay? Does anywhere hurt? Should we go to the hospital just to be safe?"

Her overly dramatic concern made me scoff.

"With injuries this minor, they’ll heal before you even get to the hospital," I spat coldly.

Natalia glared at me. "How can you say that? Isn’t he still your son?"

Ah, but he wasn’t really my son.

Seeing my lack of reaction, Natalia froze, as if realizing she’d misspoken. "Uh, that’s not what I meant. I just think, what if he’s got internal injuries—"

Before she could finish, Casimir, who was curled up on the floor, finally snapped.

His voice was dry, tinged with anger. "Mom, I took the beating for Nathan. Why is it that you never care about me?"

Both Natalia and I were stunned.

I had assumed the years of abuse had broken his spirit entirely.

Casimir’s words seemed to strike a nerve in Natalia. She slammed her high heel into his chest without mercy. "How dare you talk back to me? You deserve to be beaten, you worthless scum! Why would I care about you when I have Nathan?"

Natalia didn’t stop until the tip of her red high heel was smeared dark with blood.

Breathing heavily, she finally stepped back.

She turned to me, smiling awkwardly. "I’m so sorry, Catherine. What a mess—you must think it’s a joke."

But Casimir wasn’t conscious anymore.

Regardless of whether he was my biological son or not, there was no way I could watch him die.

In the end, both Nathan and Casimir were taken to the hospital.

Most of the medical staff focused on saving Casimir.

His shirt was cut open, revealing his painfully thin frame. His ribs were visible even as he lay there. His emaciated body was covered in layers of old and new wounds, barely leaving any unscarred flesh.

The doctor couldn’t hold back anymore. "Who is this child’s mother?"

Natalia, busy instructing the nurses to tend to Nathan’s wounds, replied without even turning her head, "I am."

What followed was a stream of reprimands from the doctor, but Natalia brushed it all off, ignoring their concerns.

I stood aside with my arms crossed, watching coldly.

Nathan, however, wasn’t happy. He muttered, "If only Aunt Natalia were my real mom."

Both he and Natalia sneaked glances at me, but I pretended not to notice.

In truth, I clearly knew everything. The corners of Natalia’s mouth almost stretched to the back of her head in a grin.

Casimir’s injuries were severe and required hospitalization, while Nathan, after being treated, was free to go home.

Yet, Natalia insisted on keeping him at the hospital for observation. "What if something goes wrong? Better to be safe than sorry."

The doctor reluctantly agreed.

Since a caregiver had been hired, there was little risk of complications.

With that settled, Natalia and I returned home. But in the middle of the night, the hospital called.

Casimir had tied up Nathan and was threatening to jump off the building with him.

Natalia nearly floored the gas pedal, racing us back to the hospital.

The autumn night was cold, and the wind cut sharply.

Both boys stood on the rooftop in thin hospital gowns.

Casimir’s eyes were red, his thin arm holding a knife pressed firmly against Nathan’s neck. A faint line of blood was already visible.

Natalia, filled with worry and fear, hesitated between scolding and pleading, "You… You put Nathan down right now!"

Down below, police sirens blared through the hospital grounds.

Casimir’s frail body trembled violently. "Nathan, Nathan, Nathan! That’s all you care about! Why have you treated me this way? For over a decade, I’ve lived worse than a dog!"

Natalia froze in place, speechless.

She could only mutter over and over, pleading for him to let Nathan go.

On the other hand, Nathan, who was all bravado at home, was now paralyzed with fear. He trembled, unable to utter a coherent word, his face a mess of tears and snot as he begged me for help.

Casimir cast a final, despairing glance at Natalia. "If that’s how it is, let’s all die together!"

"No!" Natalia, throwing caution to the wind, lunged toward him.

But Casimir wasn’t a bad kid.

At the last moment, he shoved Nathan away and leaped off the edge himself. The thud of his body hitting the ground echoed chillingly, followed by a piercing scream from someone below.

I couldn’t bear to watch and closed my eyes.

Natalia, clutching Nathan tightly as if she’d narrowly escaped death, turned to scold me. "How can you call yourself a mother? Look at how scared the child is!"

I had no real feelings for Nathan, but I offered some perfunctory comfort.

Casimir was dead. Yet Natalia showed no trace of grief. She calmly arranged for the cremation, even refusing the undertaker’s offer to repair the body. "No need for that trouble. It’s all just ash in the end anyway."

Afterward, Natalia disappeared from my life for a while. It wasn’t until a month later, on Nathan’s birthday, that I saw her again.

This year’s birthday celebration was unusually grand. It was Rafael’s idea—he claimed it was to celebrate Nathan’s survival.

A massive cake was ordered, and Nathan, with red-rimmed eyes, accepted gifts from the guests.

I didn’t expect Natalia to show up. But then she arrived, dressed in a striking red gown, cradling an urn in her arms.

Her eyes were moist, but the expression on her face was disturbingly cheerful.

The guests froze in shock, whispering among themselves.

"Is she serious? Bringing an urn to a celebration?"

"So unlucky—who does that?"

"I’ve lived for decades and never seen anything like this!"

Natalia acted as if she didn’t hear a word. She walked straight up to me, her face was brimming with apology.

"Catherine, I’m so sorry. I only found out a few days ago... Nathan is actually my biological son," Nathalia croaked.

"The one who died, Casimir, was your son!" Natalia seemed genuinely emotional, covering her mouth as if holding back sobs.

On the other hand, Nathan's eyes lit up with joy. "Are you really my real mom?"

Natalia nodded excitedly.

"So, you’re here today to switch them back?" I asked.

Natalia nodded again.

However, before I could respond, Rafael exploded in anger. "What kind of nonsense is this? You think saying it makes it true?"

"Even if it’s real, how can you just swap kids back after raising them for so many years? Not to mention, the other child is already dead!" he added.

The crowd of onlookers murmured in agreement.

"Exactly! The kid’s dead—what’s the point of bringing this up now?"

A few people who knew Natalia chimed in.

"I’ve heard about Natalia. She treated her son, Casimir, worse than a stray dog. Made him eat scraps, wear rags—everything second-hand! And didn’t her son jump to his death just last month?"

The atmosphere buzzed with disapproval.

Natalia pressed on, undeterred. "Catherine, Nathan and I share an unbreakable bond as mother and son…"

I cut her off with a smile. "Let’s do it. Let’s switch them back!"

I had endured it for over a decade, waiting for this moment. If we didn’t go through with it, how could I continue this drama?