"I know, I know, sweetheart. Of course I believe you. I''ve always believed you," M murmured, her voice gentle and unwavering. "But what''s done is done, and now another child has been hurt. I don''t believe for a second that you''d ever do such a thing, Adrian. I just want to understand what happened, so we can figure out how to make things right. Can you help me think it through? Can you help me, darling?"


    The boy in her arms gradually stopped struggling. His fists, which had been pounding in frustration, grew still. Atst, Adrian''s small, trembling voice broke the silence. "I didn''t push him."


    "I know you didn''t," M replied softly.


    The room was dim, the gentle glow of a nightlight casting long shadows across the walls. M held Adrian close, feeling the tension and anger slowly ebb from his body, though now hey quiet and sullen. She waited, patient and silent, hoping he would find the words she knew he needed to say.


    Time seemed to stretch endlessly.


    Then, all at once, Adrian clutched at her pajama sleeve, holding on with desperate strength. After so long without a sound, he spoke, his voice barely more than a whisper but thunderous in her ears. "He fell. I tried to catch him—I really tried- but I couldn''t."


    His confession came in broken, stammering bursts, his voice shaking with guilt and confusion. "Mom, I wanted to hold on to him... Why didn''t he grab my hand? He just kept walking that way. I said we should go home... and then he just fell..... I couldn''t catch him..."


    By the end, his words were a tangled sob.


    To M, his jumbled sentences hit harder than any usation. Her mind reeled, her whole body prickling with cold dread.


    What did he mean?


    There was no time to think it through. She saw the panic rising in Adrian''s eyes, saw the way he was unraveling, and cupped his tear-streaked cheeks in her hands, looking straight into his gaze. "It''s okay, sweetheart, it''s okay. You''re safe now. Let''s think about something else, okay? You don''t have to remember it right now."


    Gradually, Adrian calmed, his breathing evening out until atst he drifted into a restless sleep, his head pillowed on herp. M pulled the nket over him, tucking him in with gentle care, then leaned back against the headboard, covering her eyes with the back of her hand. A long, silent sigh escaped her.


    How had ite to this?


    Adrian''s story was so fragmented, so confused—no wonder, after such a shock. M did her best to piece it together, but she could hardly believe what she''d heard. Could it really have happened like that? Did Julian jump? Did he slip? There was no way to know for sure, and she didn''t dare press Adrian for more, not when just remembering left him so shaken. No matter how it happened, it was far too much for any child to bear.


    Even an adult might not recover from witnessing something like this.


    M''s hand pressed harder over her eyes.


    And even if this was the truth, who would believe it?


    With no proof, what could she say? When she''d left the hospital, Leonard had confirmed there were no cameras on the upper floor-only one on the stairs, which showed the two boys running up, looking like they were just ying around.


    Then Julian had fallen.


    Only Adrian and Julian knew what really happened, and now one was traumatized and confused, his words easily dismissed, while the other was lying unconscious. There was simply no way to exinit clearly to anyone.


    And that wasn''t even the worst of it.


    If Julian hadn''t simply slipped-if there was more to it, if it truly was intentional- then things would be even moreplicated. And even if Julian woke up, that might not solve anything.


    M''s thoughts spun in circles. She''d cared for these children with all her heart, watched over them day and night; how had ite to this in just a year? The anger followed close behind.


    Was this what Sophia considered parenting? And Lysander-did either of them see these children as anything more than tools to be used, as long as they had value?


    How cruel must a person be, how cold?


    She''d always thought Lysander


    must have some limits. After all, he


    doted on his mother, Felicity


    Fontaine, took his family


    responsibilities so seriously. Maybe it was only her-an outsider the


    treated so ruthlessly.


    But Adrian was his own child, flesh and blood. Surely that meant something. Yet now, finally, M saw the truth.


    How much more heartless could he be? Even wild beasts protect their young.


    Had he never really seen Adrian as his son, just because M was his mother? Did he hate her that much? She no longer understood Lysander at all.


    But one thing was clear: they were enemies now. That much was certain. Anyone who hurt or used her child would not get away with it.


    And Sophia-she was no better. Two reckless maniacs, hell-bent on destroying these children. Did they really not see what kind of scars this would leave? Julian had nearly died.


    Adrian was traumatized, maybe for life.


    Even if he heated, the shadow would


    always be there. The more M


    thought, the tighter her chest became, her heart pounding painfully. She pressed her hand over her chest, trying to breathe quietly


    so as not to disturb Adrian, who''d finally fallen asleep.


    That night, sleep never came for her.


    As dawn crept across the sky, M knew she''d have to face the day, to find some way-any way-to help Adrian, to make sure he didn''t carry this burden forever. And then there was Julian...


    Thoughts swirling, she finally drifted into a fitful sleep, still holding her child close.


    Outside, the night wind stirred. The half-open window let in the cool air, and the curtains fluttered gently in theing light.