Third Person’s POV
“Is it true that you barely ate breakfast? Feeling unwell?” Caldwell’s mother, Samantha, asked.
“Just a poor appetite–nothing serious. Don’t worry,” Skemon replied.
Skemon opened his eyes, noticing Samantha’s weary expression. “More nightmaresst night?” he asked with a frown.
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Samantha’s face was etched with sorrow. “Lately, I keep dreaming about Poly. I don’t know why.”
Skemon sighed softly.
He knew her “dreams” were nightmares–visions of Poly being tortured.
Her dreams were filled with images of Poly being tortured—sometimes she dreamed of Poly having her limbs chopped off, sometimes of Poly drowning, and other times of Poly being burned alive.
“Overthinking during the day leads to such dreams at night. Try to focus on positive thoughts. Maybe Poly’s out there, married with children, living a happy life,” Skemon said gently.
Samantha opened her mouth to speak but saw the dimness in Skemon’s eyes and knew his words were just tofort her.
She nodded, “You’re right. I should think positively. If the Moon Goddess pities us and lets us <i>see </i>Poly again, I’d pay any price.”
Skemon continued tofort her. “Don’t dwell on it. Sometimes not forcing things can lead to pleasant surprises.”
Everyone in their family had their own fixations, relying on mutualfort to get by.
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“By the way, Caldwell’s marriage needs to be arranged soon. He’s already thirty,” Skemon shifted the topic to his grandson’s future.
Samantha sighed, “Every time hees home, I suggest he think about marriage, but he won’t listen. He says he won’t settle down until he finds Poly.”
“If he won’t marry or have children, does he want our family line to end?”
Skemon sighed again. “But I can’t persuade him. I don’t want to be harsh either. Let him live as he pleases.”
Samantha agreed. “I don’t want to pressure him either. He’s already working hard for ckthorn. If family matters weigh him down, it’ll be harder for him to excel.” “If you aren’t feeling well, I’ll make you some lemon cake,” Samantha offered.
Samantha and the maid went to the kitchen to bake a lemon cake.
As soon as a batch was done, there was a knock on the door, along with Caldwell’s voice, “Open up, it’s me.”
Samantha’s face, usually bitter, finally lit up with a smile. She set down the cake and said, “Perfect timing. I’ve made extra lemon cake. Let him take some back to ckthorn for Luna Adide.”
The door opened, and Caldwell strode in, his excitement barely contained.
“Father, Mother,e with me to ckthorn! We’ve found Poly! Paisley’s on her way to pick her up–she’ll be at ckthorn soon!”
Skemon shot up from his lounge chair, a rare disy of agility these days.
Typically, he needed help sitting up or lying down. But now, he almost nimbly rolled over and stood firm on the ground.
“What did you say? What did you just say?” His lips trembled as he stared at Caldwell. “You said… you found Poly?”
“Don’t jump to conclusions, please don’t!” Samantha’s hands twisted in her apron, tears streaming down her face. She looked at Caldwell with bated breath, her voice
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choked. “Are you absolutely sure? Is it really Poly this time, not another false lead?”
Over the years, they had received news of Poly multiple times.
Each time, it turned out to be a cruel hoax–hope soaring only to crash into despair.
“Absolutely sure! She even remembers us and details from home!” Caldwell, who had been holding back tears on the way, now fought to keep hisposure, though his eyes were rimmed with red.
The car sped toward the ckthorn Pack’s territory.
Samantha clutched a two–tiered lunch box tightly, her tears falling incessantly despite her efforts to hold them back.
Eighteen years—each day and night had been a torment, not a single moment forgotten.
Every day was filled with regret–why hadn’t she been kinder to Poly?
The whole family doted on Poly, yet Samantha had been especially strict. She had pped Poly’s hands, confined her to her room, and even let her go hungry…
Over the years, many memories had faded, but Poly’s tearful face, her fearful approach after being punished, remained crystal–clear.
These images formed a river that daily eroded the most painful part of Samantha’s heart.
She couldn’t forgive herself. Poly wasn’t a particrly mischievous child, so why had she scolded her? Why had she made her cry? Why couldn’t she have loved Poly as the others had?