Her Precious Baby

He glanced down, picked up a piece from the pile of blocks, and attached it to the tiny window ledge. It was a neat little addition.

“It doesn’t matter if you don’t have a mother, Floretta. I love you all the same.”

Evander’s tone was solemn, but Floretta was thrilled by the addition to the window frame. He wondered if she had heard him.

Meanwhile, Angeline headed home after leaving Floretta and eased herself into a bath. She even set her tablet on a portable desk to watch “The Journey.”

She had been too busy shooting of late to have even seen her own show.

The highly anticipated series by the major media companies attracted heavy investment in the setting and costumes, making it a pleasure to watch.

In addition, the sequence was particularly aesthetic, with superb editing.

Just when she was getting into it, Angeline was alerted by a WhatsApp notification bell across her homepage.

Frowning, she opened the app and saw that it was Jonathan, who she had not contacted for a long time. He had sent several images.

Angeline suddenly froze when she loaded the file. She grew pale with fright.

It was a boy, of about five, with the most exquisite features she had ever seen. He was dressed in clothes adorned by patches that revealed scars of various sizes all over him.

Some of them were fresh wounds, and others were old. The sight of his skeletal figure looked especially forlorn.

Her heart raced when she realized what was happening. After struggling to regain her composure, she dialed his number.

As if awaiting her call, Jonathan picked up almost immediately.

ventures of late, Ms. Sorelle. You’re doing well, I

for sending

days. Have you forgotten what your child looks like?” Jonathan’s

Angeline felt

began suspecting that Floretta was the child I had lost all those years ago, I

“Speak your mind.”

just known what an awful life this child must lead. His alcoholic father would take things out on

grew deeply uneasy at

I’m coming to you with the police,” she

against the law. Furthermore, the wounds on the child look serious. His life may even

known to be a conspiracy. Besides, who knows what the good-for-nothing father would do to you in his panic if

at Jonathan’s words. Her gaze turned

eye

hearty grunt. Several moments later, he dropped

return. Consider yourself warned. I

“What—”

ask further, Jonathan hung

Though she was unclear about

my daughter, any accident

wounds all over the little boy, she felt

all it takes to

Her back slid dejectedly down the side of the bath and into the water.

down by wave after wave of hardship quicker than I can cope

in white sportswear and a cap, Joseline held the club firm and took careful aim. With a resounding thud, she sent the ball flawlessly into the hole on the far end of

“Sublime golfing, Mrs. Yiurk.”