Unease crawled up my spine.
The woman patted Lily’s hand, beaming. “Good, good. You’re just like a daughter to me. If Peter ever gives you trouble, I’ll make sure he behaves.”
Peter strolled out, his voice light, playful. “Mom, who’s really your kid here?”
I froze.
The woman… looked just like Peter.
A chill shot through me.
***
That day, I snapped. I screamed, demanded answers.
Stuart rushed over—but instead of explaining, he shielded the woman behind him, his eyes cold with disgust.
And Peter—the boy I raised, the son I gave everything to—stood beside her, holding her hand.
In the chaos, someone shoved me—hard. I crashed down the stairs, pain exploding through me as blood pooled around me.
My head cracked. My leg snapped.
And Stuart and Peter didn’t even call an ambulance.
Stuart didn’t so much as glance at me, curled up in agony. No—his first instinct was to grab my phone. Something clicked in his head, and he swiped it open with Peter’s birthday.
His face lit up. “Elaine actually got the money!” He turned to Peter. “I’ll chip in a little more—now the apartment can be properly renovated!”
Peter hesitated, glancing down at me. “But Elaine…”
He couldn’t even call me Mom. Not in front of her.
Stuart barely spared me a glance before kicking my broken leg. Pain shot through me—I gasped. His eyes sharpened, like he’d just had a brilliant idea.
Without hesitation, he said, “I was gonna tell Elaine anyway—your mother and I belong together. We should’ve reunited ages ago. As for Elaine… Look at her. Just dump her in my hometown. She can’t move, and no one there even knows her.”
The world blurred into a twisted nightmare.
The Stuart I thought I knew—the gentle, affectionate husband—was gone.
And Peter?
At the soft, almost pleading “Peter?” from the woman behind him, he only wavered for a second.
Then he nodded.
“Do whatever you think is best, Dad.”
He turned away.
Didn’t even look at me.
***
And just like that, they dumped me in Stuart’s hometown.
I’d only been there once—right after we got married. The isolation, the crushing poverty—it stuck with me. Back then, spoiled by my parents’ love, I swore I’d never set foot there again.
But now?
Now I was nothing but a cripple, abandoned in a rotting shack where no one checked on me. The wind howled through the cracks, cutting through me like a blade.
But the coldest thing of all?
Lily’s mocking voice as she spilled the truth.
Peter wasn’t just some abandoned kid.
He was Stuart and that woman’s son.
The adoption? A lie. A setup.
They wanted me—to raise their illegitimate child as my own.
