Chapter 3

After settling the matters at hand, I went to pick up Jack from his grandmother's house. But I hadn't expected that when he saw me, he wouldn't run to me, calling out in his soft, babyish voice, "Mom." He didn't remember me anymore. Later, when he started school and mingled with classmates, he grew even more distant. He complained that I wasn't like the other mothers—successful and admirable. He said I didn't have a "real job."

The police officer's voice jolted me out of my thoughts.

As it turned out, Caleb had been clever enough to hide in a trash bin and escape. He never boarded that ill-fated ship. A homeless man had found him and taken him in, and the two had relied on each other all these years. Recently, after the old man passed away, someone discovered Caleb living alone and reported it to the authorities. That's how they found him.

Caleb was dark-skinned, frail, and timid, his demeanor utterly heart-wrenching. I knelt down, gently stroking his small head. "Don't be scared. I'm your aunt."

He blinked up at me, his eyes darting, as if trying to make sense of everything.

"From now on, you'll never go hungry or cold again. You'll live with me."

His mother had been an orphan, so there were no grandparents on her side. That made me Caleb's only living family. I brought him home, cleaned him up, and dressed him in new clothes.

When I held his tiny hands, I noticed they were covered in chilblains. I fetched the first-aid kit and applied medicine to his wounds as gently as I could. The little guy was tough. Even though it clearly hurt, he didn't make a sound.

I put on a cartoon for him. "Watch this for a while. I'll go make you a sandwich."

When I came back with the plate, I found him fast asleep. As I covered him with a soft blanket, he woke up.

The sight triggered a memory—Jack, when he was little, had woken up just like that. He'd cling to my neck, slow and sleepy, like a baby sloth. He was unbearably adorable.

Unable to resist, I pulled Caleb into my arms. But instead of hugging my neck as Jack used to, he reached up and touched my face.

Snapping out of my thoughts, I whispered, "Caleb, I'm your aunt. From now on, this is your home, and we'll live together."

The little boy tilted his head back to look at me, his eyes shining. "Aunt? Why aren't you my mom?"

"I am your dad's sister, not your mom," I explained. "Do you want to see your mom?"

He nodded, and I held him as I pulled out old photographs, showing him each one and recounting the stories behind them. When we finished, he suddenly leaned over and kissed my cheek. In his sweet, childish voice, he called me "Auntie."

In that moment, I felt my heart melt completely.

Caleb was old enough for school but had never attended one. I quickly contacted a kindergarten and got him enrolled. To my relief, he adjusted easily, unlike Jack, who had cried and resisted for days.

Our lives gradually found a rhythm, and Caleb and I grew closer. I enjoyed making snacks in my free time, and the things Jack used to scorn, Caleb ate with delight.

One day, as I was preparing a sandwich for him, my phone rang. It was Ethan.

His voice was raspy, as if he'd just woken up. "There's a mall opening ceremony tomorrow."

Out of habit, I rattled off what outfit matched which accessories and even pointed out the exact location in his wardrobe. But the moment the words left my mouth, I fell silent. I realized I had been doing this on autopilot for years.

On the other end, I could hear the faint sounds of him rummaging through his closet. He stayed quiet, seemingly lost in thought.

Finally, I broke the silence. "If that's all, I'll hang up now."

Suddenly, he asked, "Do you want to come with me tomorrow?"

I couldn't help but feel a pang of bitterness. Back when we were married, I had begged him to take me to events like this, and he never once agreed. Now that we were divorced, what was the point?

"I won't go. And from now on, don't call me again. Call your stylist or your housekeeper. Just don't call me. We're divorced now, remember?"