Becoming Strangers Again by Lily

LILY

Seated in her modest living room, I couldn't help but fixate on the photograph of a little girl perched on what appeared to be a makeshift TV console. The frame stood out-its presence commanding attention despite the clutter around it.

The girl's innocent smile, frozen in time, radiated an almost unbearable tenderness. Was this the child she had done everything for? The one who justified her every action, no matter how unforgivable?

A thought crept into my mind, unwelcome and jagged: What if she did it all for the sake of her sick daughter? Could she have sacrificed my three sons just to save her one daughter? The notion was unthinkable, not only senseless but monstrously cruel. What kind of mother could make that trade? What kind of person could even consider it?

I folded my arms tightly across my chest, the gesture more to steady myself than anything else.

My gaze remained locked on the photograph, as though it could somehow provide answers to questions that had no right to exist.

The room felt stifling, each second stretching uncomfortably, until the sharp metallic click of a lock being turned shattered the silence.

The door began to ease open, and I instinctively glanced at the security officer who had accompanied me. His posture stiffened instantly. His hand hovered near his hip.

But I wasn't afraid. Not really. I didn't believe she would do anything reckless. Not now. Not when her daughter's fragile world depended on this home, this space remaining intact.

Surely, if she had even a shred of decency left, she wouldn't destroy what little stability her daughter had. At least, that's what I told myself. Because if she didn't care-not even for her own child-then what kind of monster had I come face to face with?

The door creaked open, and she stepped inside, clutching the hand of a little girl who couldn't have been more than eight.

Her face immediately froze when her eyes landed on me, seated comfortably in her living room with the young man I'd brought along.

features, her gaze darting between

and what do

or was this some pathetic attempt to play dumb? I leaned back, letting the moment stretch.

bring my child into a house with two strangers, do you?" she retorted, her tone defensive, as if she had

gaze settling on the child she held so tightly. Her little face looked pale, unsure, her free hand clutching at the hem of her mother's coat. "I think you're scaring the child right now," I said, pointing at the girl. "Besides, I'm

but she didn't

toward the girl, my patience slipping. "Look, I'm only keeping this civil because of her," I said, my voice cold. "But if you stand there

the child's hand tightening briefly before she exhaled and gently nudged her forward. "Go on, sweetheart," she murmured softly, crouching down to the little girl's level. "Go to your room

she turned

across from me. She tucked her knees together, her

fixed on her. "The perfume you gave Clover-it has something in it, and I know it," I said bluntly, watching her reaction closely. Her brows knit together

cleared her throat, her hands fidgeting in her lap. "I'm not sure I know what you're talking about,"

clenched my fists. "Are you seriously playing this game

she said, her voice trembling slightly, "I don't know

me, her gaze full of feigned innocence,

rasped, the words catching in my throat. "I'm willing to give you enough money for her treatment. More than that I'll

could feel the sting

my hands together as if in prayer. "Please," begged, my voice breaking

about what happened that day. I need to find my children, and you're

she didn't move, her expression unreadable. Then, with surprising gentleness, she got up from her seat and bent down. Placing her hands on my shoulders, she guided me back to my feet?" honestly don't know what you're talking about," she said softly. "If you can just calm down and

envelope," I said slowly, "to a driver near Hill Taste restaurant a