"There you go, good boy."

Sylvia quickly instructed the housekeeper, "Hurry, prepare the medicine again!"

"Yes, ma'am!"

"Here, give it to him!" Sylvia carried the medicine over to Francis.

Francis coaxed and fed James, who was very cooperative and didn't make a fuss.

"Oh dear..." Sylvia felt a twinge of envy, smiling, "Dad's always the best, huh? I couldn't do the trick."

James' cheeks were flushed as he clung to Francis' hand.

Sylvia, sensing the moment, said, "Daddy's back now, James. You have a good time with dad, and we'll leave you two."

She left with the housekeeper, smiling.

By the bedside, Francis watched over James, applying a new fever patch.

"Daddy..." James' voice was hoarse from the fever, "Are you my real daddy?"

Huh? Francis paused for a second, then quickly understood what James meant. He nodded affirmatively, "Yes, daddy is your real daddy, your very own."

Hearing this, James' lips quivered, and tears started falling.

He was young, but not naive. He understood what that meant.

Sobbing, he asked, "Then, daddy, where's my mommy?"

Pausing, he added, "Not the auntie, I mean, my real mommy, the one who gave birth to me?"

"

loss for

knew where his mom was, but their relationship

"Daddy."

imagination wander, "Is my mommy... is she dead? Not in this world anymore?"

didn't even have to

very much alive! Perhaps not in

little mouth puckered again, "Does mommy not like

by his son's thought process, "Why would

"It must

true!" James' tears

the

like

to

Content

presenting his pouty rear to his dad

lips parted, wanting to say something but

was he supposed to

He really

mother loves their

James had a complicated relationship. Rebecca hadn't wanted James... After James was born, she left him... Probably, maybe, indeed... she didn't

James.

It was his fault.

James' father, was probably an existence Rebecca wished to forget forever...

bed, James, still upset,

temples, then

James

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