Chapter 3

I turned around. It was my father from ten years ago.

He looked down at Henrichs, doting with a hint of helplessness.

"The doctor said you can't eat cold things right now."

Henrichs leaned toward him coquettishly. "I only had one bite. Don't be so mean."

I secretly glanced at my mother. Her face was as white as paper, her eyes fixed on my father's back.

My father saw my mother. His eyes were calm and still, as if looking at a stranger.

I thought my mother would impulsively confront him, but instead she just held five-year-old me tightly without making a sound.

After my father and Henrichs left, my mother silently cried.

She showed me her phone. My father had sent her a message telling her not to make a scene.

I kept wiping her tears, but they wouldn't stop.

"Don't cry, Mom. He's not worth it."

That night, my father came to the urban village where my mother lived. My mother punched and kicked him, crying her heart out.

"Why did you lie to me? What do you take me for?"

"Do you know that for all these years, our daughter has been mocked as a bastard child, told she has no father?"

My father was silent for a while, then pulled out a card and stuffed it into my mother's hand.

"There's a million dollars here. Take it, but don't make trouble with Henrichs."

Previously, to maintain his pretense of being poor, my father never transferred more than a thousand dollars to my mother. Now he was giving a million at once.

My mother looked down at the card and smiled mockingly.

"Wallace, you deceived me for ten years. Is that only worth a million dollars?"

"That's not what I mean. Manuela is about to start elementary school. Haven't you always wanted to buy a new house closer to school?"

"I'll figure out the house situation, but not right now. Henrichs is watching me closely..."

She threw the card at him. "Just leave. Don't come back anymore."

"Montoya, calm down. I have my reasons..."

I stood up and pushed my father.

"Get out of here and stop harassing Mom!"

My father's gaze paused, questioning my mother:

"Who is she? Why is she calling you Mom?"

My mother had no obligation to tell him. She pushed and kicked him out the door.

After everything quieted down, my mother stared at the window where no moon could be seen.

"Every time he lied to me about going abroad for missions, he was taking that mother and daughter on vacation?"

My eyes dimmed. I nodded.

While my mother worried whether he was eating and sleeping well abroad, he was watching the snow fall with Henrichs.

All of Seattle's upper circles knew that my father was deeply devoted to Henrichs.

The next day, my mother was supposed to go to work but was told she was fired.

Thinking about next semester's tuition that would soon be due, my mother's voice rose anxiously:

"You can't fire me without cause. I'll sue you."

But the boss said, "Go ahead. But Mr. Wallace can handle this with one phone call. You should save yourself the trouble."

My mother had no choice but to return to the rental house dejectedly, only to find all her belongings had been thrown out by the landlord.

"I'm not renting this place to you anymore. You need to move out today."

My heart sank:

"Henrichs must have found out about you. We need to get back to Chicago quickly."

I knew that because of my appearance, the timeline had moved up.

Though Henrichs pretended not to care that my father kept a woman on the side, she was actually intensely jealous and wished she could skin my mother alive.

But young Mom was more stubborn than I imagined. She was unwilling to give up on Seattle, where she had struggled for five years.

After randomly finding a budget hotel to stay in, she began submitting resumes online.

But without exception, all were rejected.

Some people even mocked my mother directly:

"Isn't being Mr. Wallace's mistress good enough? Why do you need to find work?"

Henrichs even publicly attacked my mother online as a homewrecker, accusing her of taking my father's million dollars.

Internet users followed the narrative and tore my mother apart.

My mother fought back defiantly, posting chat records with my father to prove she wasn't a homewrecker.

But those posts were quickly flagged as violations and prohibited from spreading.

Little Manuela came back from kindergarten crying:

"The other kids wouldn't play with me today. They said Mom stole Julian's dad..."

My mother held her tightly. "Manuela, it's my fault. I'm so sorry..."

After hitting wall after wall, she finally decided to leave Seattle.