**Gabrielle's Point of View**I was in the office, but my mind was still on what had happened earlier. Kimberly was holding onto me, crying, and I could feel the weight of the situation. I felt like a failed father. My child was hurt because of what her mother, Kristine, had done. I don't know how things reached this point, but now I know I have to do something.I'm angry at Kristine. How could she do this to Kimberly? To poison a child's mind with false beliefs and anger? But I’m even angrier at myself—how could I have let this happen? I should have acted sooner.I thought about my last conversation with Kristine. Our eyes met, and I saw fear and resentment in her. But no matter how much anger I feel, I can’t help but doubt—am I doing the right thing? Is divorce the answer? But what about Kimberly?I know I have to protect Kimberly. If I have to leave Kristine to do that, I will. But I'm still afraid that it might only further damage my daughter’s world.I need to talk to her, to Kim
**Eumerriah's Point of View**As Justine was arranging her school bag, I couldn’t help but stare at her. I saw the strength in her face, even though I knew she was carrying the weight of what happened yesterday. The scene outside the school, the staring eyes, and the whispers—I knew it wasn’t easy for her."Justine," I called softly as I approached her. "Are you sure you want to go to school today? Maybe you could take a break. I understand if you’re struggling."She looked at me with a confidence rarely seen in someone her age. "Mommy, I want to go to school," she said kindly but with a hint of determination. "I haven’t done anything wrong. And I know you haven’t done anything wrong either."I was surprised by her response. I didn’t expect my child to have such a deep understanding despite what happened. "Sweetheart, you don’t have to force yourself," I said, trying to hide my worry in my voice. "Maybe it would be better if you rested for a while. So you don’t have to worry."Justine
**Eumerriah's Point of View**I woke up early as usual, especially on special occasions or when my children have special needs. Today is Justine and Dustine's field trip, and even though they're both teenagers now, I can't help but worry and make sure every detail is covered. As I prepared their packed lunches, I reflected on how quickly they have grown—just yesterday they were little kids relying on me for everything. Now they’re teenagers, but my protective nature remains.While heating water for their breakfast, I heard their footsteps coming downstairs. Justine, who always wakes up first, greeted me with a smile. “Good morning, Mommy,” he said as he sat down at the table.“Good morning, dear,” I replied. “Are you ready for the field trip?”“Of course, Mommy,” he answered while grabbing the bread I prepared. “But are you sure we need a packed lunch? There might be a buffet there.”I smiled at his comment. “We don’t know if the food there will be good, so it's better to bring your o
Eumerriah's Point of ViewI was happily sitting on the bench, watching Dustine joyfully interact with his classmates. It made me so happy to see him enjoying himself, especially since he was new to the school. I couldn’t help but smile as I watched him play and laugh with his new friends. It was such a relief to see him so happy.As I observed, it felt as though time had slowed down. I could see Dustine growing closer to his new friends, and though I wanted to join in their fun, I chose to stay at a distance, quietly watching and caring as a mother. I remembered when he was younger, he wasn’t very sociable, but now here he was, fearless and boldly mingling with others.The field trip continued, and I followed their bus to every destination, always keeping my distance, giving him space to enjoy the time with his friends. When it was break time, Dustine and I had lunch together. He happily shared his experiences from the trip, and I could feel the excitement in his voice.But in the mi
Eumerriah's Point of ViewI sat by Justine's bedside, holding his cold hand, trying not to give in to the fear and anxiety that were slowly consuming me. It has been twelve hours since he was brought here, and yet he still hasn’t woken up. My eyes were fixed on his pale face, hoping for any sign that he would wake up.Suddenly, I heard hurried footsteps approaching. When I turned around, I saw Shaira—her face was filled with worry and anger. She quickly came over to us, and I could see the pain and fear in her eyes that mirrored my own."Eumerriah," she took a deep breath, "what's the news? Has he not woken up yet?"I shook my head, barely able to hold back the tears welling up in my eyes. "No, not yet. There's been no change."Her face flushed with anger, and I noticed her hands trembling. "How did this happen? Who’s responsible?!" Her voice was full of fury, searching for someone to blame for Justine’s accident. "Whoever did this needs to be held accountable!""Shaira," my voice was
**Eumerriah's Point of View:**As I stood beside Justine's bed, I could feel the weight of every passing second. Fourteen hours had passed since he was rushed to the hospital, yet he still hadn’t woken up. From a mother who was once overjoyed by her child’s excitement during the field trip, I now felt as if I were being dragged down by fear and anxiety. The doctor’s words pierced my heart like knives, one by one, as I considered my son’s condition.Shaira arrived, hurrying in with worry etched across her face. She quickly rushed to my side, and I knew we were both battling the same emotions—anger, fear, and uncertainty. "Yumi, how is Justine?" Shaira asked, barely able to wait for an answer. I could see the anxiety and anger in her eyes, especially after hearing what the doctor had said about Justine needing blood."Doc, what is my son’s condition?" I asked, trying to keep my voice from trembling. I knew I had to stay strong, but every word the doctor spoke felt like another weight ad
**Eumerriah's Point of View**I stared into the void, in the midst of a hospital that seemed to have become a battleground of conflicting emotions. With every beep of the monitor that watched over each beat of Justine’s heart, I could feel every moment stretching between life and death. I couldn’t remember how many times I prayed, hoping that every sob and tear would reach God.“Yumi,” Shaira’s voice, full of concern, pulled me back to reality. I turned to her. I knew we were both thinking about the possibility we didn’t want to face—Gabrielle.“You know we have no other choice,” she said, looking at me directly. “Gabrielle is the only one left who can donate blood for Justine.”I closed my eyes, trying to fight the weight of the situation. Gabrielle. The name I’ve been trying so hard to avoid, the person I’ve been trying to forget. Behind my closed eyes, memories began to flash—hurtful words, arguments, and countless nights of crying. But now, my pain wasn’t the priority—it was my so
**Gabrielle's Point of View**As I sat in the recovery room, I tried to calm myself after the donation process. I could still feel the pain in my arm, but the ache in my heart was far more intense—a feeling I've long tried to avoid, but can no longer deny.Justine… Is he really my son?Earlier, I saw Eumerriah's face, the fear and longing etched in her eyes as we awaited the results. Even though she hasn’t directly told me, I could sense there were things she has long kept hidden—things I'm only now beginning to realize.As I pieced together the details, my suspicions became clearer. Justine's blood type, the urgency of his condition, and Eumerriah's admission that I was the only possible donor—all these were like pieces of a puzzle slowly coming together in my mind.I wasn't surprised when Justine needed blood, and I realized that I was the only one with the matching blood type. I didn’t need to ask Eumerriah because, deep down, I already knew the answer. The similarity in our blood