Chapter 38 Am I My Mother’s Biological Child?
My life can only be controlled by myself.
I touched my belly, thinking about the baby growing inside, and bit my
lip.
After saying goodbye to Ryan, I went back to my apartment.
With everything that had happened recently, I was so overwhelmed I
barely had time to rest.
I’d promised Grandma I’d take care of myself–I couldn’t break that
promise.
Lying in bed, I scrolled through my phone’s photo gallery.
There were still a lot of pictures of Vincent and me. I took a deep
breath and deleted them all in one go.
Those photos had once captured our memories together, memories
that had been precious to me.
But the gallery still had many pictures of Toby and me. Looking at his bright smile, my eyes filled with tears.
Toby, where are you? Mom misses you so much.
Not wanting to wait around for news, I got up and created missing
person posters to post online. Even though I knew it might not be very
effective, I had to try.
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<Chapter 38 Am I My Mother’s Biological Child?
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After posting about Toby, I started job hunting and sent out resumes
to law firms.
Even though Ryan promised me an interview opportunity, Oracle Attorneys was a top–tier law firm, and I couldn’t be sure I’d get the job.
I sent my resumes to over a dozen law firms, hoping for a response.
Then, I reviewed legal codes to prepare for upcoming interviews.
Before I knew it, evening had arrived.
After dinner and a hot shower, I planned to turn in early. Before bed, I saw Claire’s social media post:
[A life filled with love is a happy one.]
Under the text was a picture of a table full of home–cooked dishes, with a man’s elegant hand visible in the corner.
I knew it was Vincent’s hand. He must have cooked for her. In all our years of marriage, I’d rarely tasted Vincent’s cooking. Claire was so lucky–I almost felt envious.
I closed the post, put down my phone, and looked at Grandma’s photo on my nightstand. ‘Grandma, I’ll find happiness too, right?‘
Just as I started to put aside my worries and fell asleep thinking of Grandma, my phone’s ringtone woke me up.
It was my mother calling.
She started scolding me the moment I answered, “Gabrielle, did you
know your sister was in a car accident? What kind of sister are you,
not even checking on her?”
“Car accident?” I replied calmly. “I just saw her social media post–she seems perfectly happy. She needs my husband’s concern, not mine!
Does my concern even matter?”
My sarcastic response made my mother pause, but she didn’t let up, “What nonsense are you talking about? Your sister wants some of your desserts. Make some and bring them over.”
I couldn’t help but laugh.
How ridiculous! My son Toby had been missing for so long, and my mom barely called to check on him. Now, she contacts me just to
make desserts for Claire?
“Mom, how many times have you asked about Toby? He’s your grandson! The last time you called, it was to push me to divorce Vincent so your precious daughter could take my place. And now it’s to make desserts for Claire.” I gritted my teeth. “Even biased parents
should have their limits!”
“I’m not Claire’s servant–what gives you the right to order me
around?” I was getting more emotional, almost shouting. “There’s something I’ve always wanted to ask–am I even your biological
child?”
