The hospital room was white as snow.


    The window stood half-open, letting in the rising warmth of early summer. The wind, heavy with the scent of grass and sunlight, kept pouring in, making the curtains whip and snap against the wall.


    The angry shouts and frantic struggles from earlier had finally ebbed away.


    Now, only the rush of wind filled the space.


    For a long time, nothing but silence. Then, Sophia''s voice broke through, hoarse and edged with venom, almost a snarl: "What does my life have to do with you? Who the hell are you to meddle in my affairs?!"


    How dare she!


    "Your life has nothing to do with me, of course." M exhaled, trying to keep her voice steady. "But Julian does. I took care of him for a while he called me Mom. I can''t just turn a blind eye to what you''ve done to him."


    "You-! You dare bring that up?!"


    Sophia exploded again.


    She tried to push herself up, but every movement sent pain shooting from the injuries on her neck and ankle. M pressed her down with all her weight, pinning her to the bed. No matter how Sophia struggled, she couldn''t break free.


    Her rage only grew.


    M watched as Sophia thrashed, looking one spark away from losing control. This wasn''t what she wanted-her aim wasn''t to make Sophia furious. She just wanted Julian to be okay. And Sophia, whether M liked it or not, was the boy''s biological mother, his only living rtive. There was no avoiding her.


    If she wanted to truly solve this, she had to steady Sophia first.


    Otherwise, it would only happen again.


    Julian was just a child, and his uncle-Nathaniel Pembroke-was clearly no match for Sophia''s pressure. M couldn''t count on him at all.


    And what if someday, Julian learned the truth? If he realized his father was a monster, and his mother-a monster, too-had conspired with others to ruin him? How could any child survive that?


    She had to try. It was all she could do.


    When Sophia''s rage swelled so much that she almost broke free, M, desperate, grabbed her chin and forced her face away-then knocked her own forehead against Sophia''s with a sharp crack. Her vision swam with pain.


    At least it worked.


    Sophia went still.


    ...


    "Are you calm now?"


    M asked, gritting her teeth against the ache in her head.


    Sophia said nothing.


    M didn''t wait for a reply. She seized the moment of quiet and poured out everything she''d been carrying. “Sophia, I never wanted to steal your child. He''s yours—always has been! But you can''t keep doing this. Do you really want him to grow up, figure everything out, and hate you for what you did to him?"


    "That day will nevere!" Sophia''s voice was raw, nearly a scream. "He''ll listen to me, always! He''d never dare defy me!"


    "He''s your son!" M''s patience snapped, her words ringing with anger. "He''s not


    a pawn, not a tool for you to control. He''s a living, breathing person, with his own future! Just like you, just like me!"


    She stopped, breath shuddering from her lungs.


    Maybe it was her own childhood shing before her eyes-a life measured out in debts, every meal and every coat a price she''d have to repay a future sold off by the people who were supposed to love her. For a moment, her throat tightened, and her words died away.


    She bent forward, her forehead resting against Sophia''s back as the other woman still trembled beneath her. Her voice dropped to a whisper, pleading. "Sophia, please. Let me help you. We can figure this out together. Julian''s a good kid-he''s still so young. We can start over. He''lle to love you, I know he will."


    She paused, then added, "And when that happens, I''ll step back. I promise. He''ll be yours, and yours alone."


    Sophia said nothing.


    But as M leaned against her, Sophia felt the warmth seeping through the thin summer fabric. Something inside her stilled, reced by a confusion she couldn''t name.


    She didn''t understand. All her life, people had been simple to her her mother and father, her brother Nathaniel, her husband, Lysander. Everything boiled down to betrayal or being betrayed, domination or submission, need or being needed, using or being used.


    It was that simple.


    Maybe, at the beginning, she''d hoped for something different. But after her husband betrayed her, she knew better. Everyone in the world lived on those terms.


    Love didn''t exist.


    But M didn''t fit.


    She couldn''t make sense of M at all.


    "Why are you doing this?" Sophia finally asked, bluntly, after a long silence. "What do you want?"


    The head pressed against her back shifted. M''s voice was barely above a whisper, rough but certain. "I want what''s best for Julian. I want him to have a better life. A real future."


    Of course.


    Sophia couldn''t understand people like M.


    She almost wanted tough-but for some reason, she couldn''t.


    Just then, there was another tremor from M''s touch, and her voice came again


    —soft, but imbued with a gentle, unshakeable strength.


    "He called me Mom."


    Sophia froze.


    And, strangely, this time, she didn''tsh out.


    ...


    M''s thoughts were simple.


    Back when Adrian had rejected her, desperate for anyone else to be his mother, she''d pretended not to care-but the truth was, she''d been devastated.


    She wanted to be a good mother. Not perfect, but good enough. She wanted her child to have a happy childhood, and she''d tried her best.


    But she''d failed. Her life had spun out of control, one mistake after another, her marriage copsing into disaster. She''d felt like a failure.


    Then Julian came into her life. From


    the very start, he''d chosen her-loved her, called her "Mom." Even if it was a mistake-if he''d onlytched onto her out of confusion and pain-it was different for M. She''d hesitated, drawn back, but ultimately, she let him in again and again, caring for him through every crisis. And in doing so, she''d found thefort she''d needed most.


    For the first time, she realized-she wasn''t incapable of being a mother.


    She''d carried that child''s love, even if it was borrowed, and it had healed something broken inside her. In her darkest hours, it gave her a reason to keep going.


    And now, no matter what, she couldn''t let go—not when Julian still needed her.