Chapter 3

By the time I came out of the complex, it was already dark.

I stood at the curb, dragging my suitcase, about to book a ride, when I noticed my phone had lit up with a low-battery red warning.

The complex where Tristram and I lived was out in the suburbs, and taxis rarely came this way.

I glanced toward the gate, thinking I might ask the security guard for help.

But after hesitating a long while, I decided it was such a small thing there was no point bothering anyone.

It was only two streets from here to the busy part of town.

Twenty minutes on foot, at most.

But I overestimated myself, and halfway there, the rain started up again.

It came down in sheets, streaming over my face.

Even my stomach began to cramp, wave after wave.

I walked, stopped, walked again, gasping for breath, and then all at once my legs gave out and everything went black.

What happened after that, I don't know.

When I came to again, there was the sharp smell of disinfectant.

"You're awake?"

A familiar face appeared in front of me.

"Mom!"

I was stunned, then asked.

"What are you doing here?"

Mrs. Acevedo handed me a glass of water, then let out a sigh.

"It's pouring outside, you didn't even take an umbrella, and you're dragging a suitcase—where were you going?"

I took a sip of water, lowered my head, and said nothing.

She didn't press me. She only patted my arm gently.

"The Mid-Autumn Festival is almost here. I wanted Tristram to bring you out to the old house for a meal."

Mid-Autumn. I froze for a moment.

I'd forgotten there was even such a holiday.

"But I couldn't reach either one of you."

"I happened to have nothing going on, and I couldn't stop worrying, so I thought I'd come check on you—and then I found you collapsed on the road."

As she spoke, her face turned serious.

"You're sick—something this serious—and you didn't tell me?"

"Does Tristram know?"

I shook my head and said nothing more.

It was as if she saw straight through me, her voice going low.

"Before your parents passed, they placed you in my hands themselves and asked me to take good care of you."

"And now this rotten kid dares to mistreat you—I will not let him off!"

Before she'd even finished, Mrs. Acevedo picked up her phone and said:

"Second floor, internal medicine. Get over here now."

"If you don't come, then from now on you don't have a mother."

I knew she was on the phone with Tristram.

Less than ten minutes after she hung up.

The door of the room banged open.

Tristram charged straight in.

The moment he saw me, he didn't offer a single word of concern—he just started laying into me.

"You were the one who insisted on leaving back then."

"And nice work—no sooner are you out the door than you call her up to smear me, faking an illness, and now you've even taken it all the way to a hospital."

"Paulette, we've been together for years, and I never once realized how vicious you are!"

The words were barely out of his mouth.

Then came a slap, the crisp crack of it echoing through the whole room.

"Get down on your knees!"

It was Mrs. Acevedo.

Tristram, cradling half his face, finally got a look at who had hit him.

"Mom!"

"You hit me?"

He pointed at everything around him, as if it had all just dawned on him.

"It's you!"

"You had my mom put on an act with you, just to get me to come see you, didn't you!"

"Enough!"

Mrs. Acevedo's voice rang out again.

"If I still meant anything to you as your mother, you'd have seen me the moment you walked through that door."

"Not now."

Hearing that, Tristram's eyes wavered, and he stammered for a long while.

"It's not like that—let me explain."

As he spoke, he fixed his eyes on me.

"Paulette, don't think that just because you're like this, I'm going to stay and take care of you."

"Let me tell you, if you hadn't run into Gladys, her wound wouldn't have flared up and gotten infected."

"If you don't apologize to her this time, I'll never forgive you, not if it kills me!"

"Then go ahead and die!"

Mrs. Acevedo's voice was firm.

Tristram clenched his fists and raised his hand to strike me—then saw his mother's face gone dark.

"I was the one who said that just now. Don't you go after Paulie."

"In my heart, I have only one daughter-in-law, and that's Paulie."

Tristram was trembling with rage, but he wouldn't let it go, and right there in front of everyone he asked her:

"Mom, say it yourself—is Paulette your own flesh and blood or not!"