The Widower's Fury - Chapter 3

That was exactly what I wanted, too.

The moment I entered the bathroom, I located the windows.

The room was hundreds of square meters in size, with expansive floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking a wide stretch of lawn.

A dark, windy night. Perfect for making an escape.

Once I’d worked out my route, I asked Song Si’an to wait by the bathroom door.

I crouched and rubbed his head, taking a careful look at his little face.

So round.

His nose and lips resembled Song She’s, but his eyes looked more like mine.

The first time I’d seen him, he’d still been an egg.

He’d only just been laid. Song She held him with a tense expression, his ears flushed red with anger.

“You actually—you actually made me lay an egg,” he’d threatened coldly. “I won’t let you get away with this.”

During those two weeks, our relationship had crossed a line.

I’d thought the precautions we’d taken meant there wouldn’t be a child.

But contraceptives suited to snake folk had been scarce and expensive. The ordinary kind I’d bought hadn’t been right for him.

Maybe we’d had an accident?

I’d acquired a baby without so much as a labor pain. Torn between delight and worry, I’d reminded Song She that he’d have to get a job and help me raise our child.

Then, almost immediately, I’d seen the Song family’s missing-person notice.

I’d tied father and child to a tree and said I was going to buy strawberries. I’d be right back.

The moment I left, I’d called the Song family and given them the location.

Now I gently squeezed Song Si’an’s cheeks again.

“Wait here for me.”

He tucked his little hands together obediently.

“Okay. I’ll wait for Mommy this time, too.”

I ducked into the bathroom, opened a window, and checked the drop.

Just as I was about to climb onto the sill, someone caught the hem of my clothes.

My heart clenched.

Slowly, I looked back.

It was Song Si’an.

He stood on tiptoe, gripping my clothes.

“Mommy, I remember. The day you left me, you said you were going to buy strawberries.”

“How did you get lost for so long?”

“I’m all grown up now. Didn’t you recognize your baby?”

I hesitated for a few seconds, forgetting to pull free of his little hand.

A knock came at the door.

“Miss Qiao, the report is here. Mr. Song would like you and the young master to come and see it together.”

I sighed and picked Song Si’an up.

His plump little arms circled my neck. His cheeks were soft as cotton, and he kept whispering, “Mommy.”

Fine. Whatever was coming would come.

I took a deep breath and returned to the bedroom.

Song She held a document. His eyes moved coolly to the boy in my arms.

“Come here, Song Si’an. Open it and see whether she’s your mother.”

Reluctantly, Song Si’an climbed out of my arms and ran over to open the report.

I’d already rehearsed my speech. My fingers trembled with nerves as I braced myself for Song She’s questions.

He still had amnesia, after all. I could stall a little longer and look for another chance to leave.

I stood, ready to apologize.

Before I could speak, Song She took the report from his son, glanced at it, and gave a cold snort.

“You’re not his mother.”

“Song Si’an, stop calling strangers Mommy. Your mother must be waiting for us somewhere.”

Song Si’an lowered his head and said nothing.

I took the report. There it was, in black and white:

A biological parent-child relationship between the two individuals whose hair had been submitted was excluded.

I looked at Song Si’an.

He secretly winked at me.