My mother was the kind of woman everyone loved to hate.
Ten years of love, and she abandoned my father and her own child the moment he hit rock bottom.
Then she turned around and married his fiercest business rival.
When my father clawed his way back to the top, he used every means at his disposal to drag her back.
The whole world said he was madly, desperately in love with her.
Then his mistress caused my mother's third miscarriage, and she slipped into unconsciousness.
And I overheard the conversation between my father and my brother.
“Three miscarriages. So what? Compared to Eileen Fox never being able to have children at all, it's nothing.”
“She stopped being my mother the day she walked out on me. Eileen is my real mom. It was just an embryo. What's there to be sad about?”
A living, breathing life. My father's biological son. My brother's own flesh and blood.
Brushed aside by the two of them like it weighed nothing at all.
I looked through the doorway at my mother's eyes, flat and lifeless as still water.
I was about to storm in and scream at them both.
But a line of golden floating text appeared above my mother's head.
【The supporting character risked being erased by the System just to rewrite fate for the male lead and his son. And this is what she saved? A pair of ungrateful monsters!】
【At least the supporting character endured every punishment. Three more days, and she'll finally be free of this world.】
I stared at those words for a long time.
Dad. Brother. You don't have to hate her anymore.
My mother is leaving.
……
“So Eileen's dog knocked you down. It was barely an embryo. How long are you going to keep this up?”
My father stood at the foot of the hospital bed, irritation etched across his face.
【Barely an embryo? Are you out of your mind? That was your own flesh and blood!】
【That's the third one she's lost now, isn't it……】
Since my mother regained consciousness, she hadn't eaten a single bite or taken a sip of water for three straight days. The only thing keeping her alive was an IV drip.
My father saw it as a tantrum. A woman blowing a small thing out of proportion.
Only I knew the truth. My mother hadn't given up on eating. She had given up on everything.
“An embryo? Abner Farley, was that not your child?”
“You were the one parading your cat around. It scratched Mom first. Her dog was protecting its owner. Didn't you deserve it?”
Liam Farley was eight years old when he said that.
Cold-blooded in a way no child his age should have been.
He tossed the words out without a second thought, barely sparing my mother a glance before turning all his attention back to the phone, to Eileen on the other end.
My mother's body went rigid. Tears slid silently down her cheeks.
She murmured to herself：“Deserved it? Yes. I deserved it……”
Something flickered in my father's eyes, just for a second. Then it was gone.
His phone rang. A video call from Eileen.
“Does the wound still hurt? Why are you out of bed? Where are the maids?”
“Mom, don't move around or the wound will get infected again. Dad and I are coming home to be with you soon.”
It was like watching two completely different people.
Seconds ago, they had been cold and vicious. Now every ounce of tenderness they possessed was being poured into another woman.
“Is she awake yet? It's all my fault. I shouldn't have been walking around with Brownie.”
“This has nothing to do with you. She's the one who doesn't care about her own children. Losing it should teach her a lesson.”
With one sentence, my father swept all of Eileen's guilt onto my mother's shoulders.
But I was there that day. I saw everything with my own eyes.
My mother had tried to move out of the way. It was Eileen who deliberately closed the distance, eager to show off the diamond ring my father had bought her. She stepped on the cat's tail, and the startled cat scratched her.
One miscarriage could be called an accident.
But three?
The first time, Eileen shoved my mother into a frozen lake, and she lost the baby.
Then Eileen played the victim and flipped the story, claiming my mother had called her a homewrecker and that she'd pushed her in a moment of panic.
My father didn't punish Eileen. Instead, he forced my mother, still sick and bleeding, to kneel for three days in the Farley Chapel.
