Chapter 4

Elaine's world collapsed in that instant.

She felt like she'd fallen into a bottomless ice pit, her blood freezing solid in that moment.

She stared at the red marks on Emily's neck, her heart aching so badly she could barely breathe.

Vera's cheerful voice gradually became muffled in her ears, replaced by a persistent ringing.

"Emily, where's Dad? I want to talk to him!"

Vera swung her feet, completely oblivious to Elaine's deathly pale face.

The rustling sound of fabric came through the phone, then Arthur's deep voice, "Vera, are you feeling better?"

That familiar voice made Elaine's stomach churn.

Last night he'd been whispering in another woman's ear, yet this morning he could casually ask about Vera as if nothing had happened.

It made her sick!

She'd had her suspicions.

All those nights Arthur hadn't come home, those moments when Emily's call could summon him away instantly.

But she'd always reassured herself, believing his claim that they were "just friends."

Clearly not.

Elaine couldn't hold back anymore. Tears finally rolled down her cheeks, landing one by one on the clothes she hadn't changed after her night of caretaking.

The call ended quickly, and Vera reluctantly put down her watch.

She clutched it, her little lips pushed out in a pout, eyes still watery, "Why did Emily hang up so fast..."

She turned to complain to Elaine, but caught sight of her sitting by the bed, back ramrod straight, face ashen.

Her eyes were vacant and unfocused, not even registering Vera's movement. She seemed completely lifeless.

A strange irritation surged through Vera.

She didn't like seeing Elaine like this—always making such a big deal out of everything, unlike Emily who always looked so pretty when she smiled.

She stomped her foot, her little face immediately scrunching up.

"Mom, why are you always like this? So gloomy and annoying."

With that, she grabbed her small blanket, wrapped it around herself, and pattered out of bed, rushing from the room without looking back.

Vera's hateful words pierced Elaine's ears. She opened her mouth but couldn't make a sound.

Watching Vera's bouncing figure disappear, Elaine's legs gave way and she collapsed onto the edge of the bed.

On the nightstand sat last year's family portrait—Arthur with his arm around her waist, both children beaming with happiness.

Looking at it now, Elaine found it unbearably ironic.

In the days that followed, the virus spread at an alarming rate.

The television broadcast pandemic news 24 hours a day, with death tolls breaking records daily.

Elaine shut herself in the kitchen, brewing medicine while listening to the news anchor's reports.

During these days, she'd stockpiled disinfectant and masks, taking the children's temperatures three times daily and repeatedly wiping down every toy they touched with alcohol.

But the children's patience had long since worn thin.

"Mom, I want to ride my scooter downstairs! People are walking around outside!"

Julius pressed his face against the window, his tone full of impatience.

Elaine had just pulled him away when Vera clutched her stuffed animal and pouted, "I want strawberry milk tea. You promised to buy me some when I got better."

"It's not safe outside, and the bubble tea shop is closed. Just hang in there a little longer, okay?"

Elaine explained patiently.

She handed over the freshly brewed medicine, her voice weary, "Come on, drink this."

She'd scoured medical books to find this recipe—it couldn't cure the virus, but at least it could ease the symptoms.

Vera's vomiting had temporarily stopped, but her face remained pale.

"Why do I have to drink this again? It's so bitter!"

Vera pushed the bowl away, spilling the day's worth of carefully brewed medicine onto the tablecloth.

Elaine tiredly rubbed her temples, "Sweetie, you need to drink it to get better."

"Emily would never make me drink something so gross! You're mean! I don't want you!"

Vera suddenly shouted, "I want to find Dad!"

Julius, who'd been pulled away from the window, added coldly, "You just want to control us. Emily treats us better than you do! You're so annoying!"

Hearing her children say such hurtful things again, Elaine felt as if struck by lightning, stunned into silence.

She hadn't slept all night caring for Vera's fever, yet in their eyes, she still couldn't compare to Emily, who just fed them sweets.

An indescribable chill crept up from her feet. The room seemed to blur as her vision grew hazy.

Before evening fell, the twins' quarreling echoed through the living room again.

"I want to see Emily! I want to go right now!"

Vera sat on the carpet, her stuffed animal misshapen from her grip.

"It's all your mom's fault. If you hadn't stopped us from going out, we'd already be with Dad!"

Julius stood nearby, his little eyebrows furrowed, adding, "Exactly! If you hadn't held us back, we'd be on a plane right now instead of stuck here with you!"

Elaine had just walked in with warmed milk when she heard this. Her steps faltered.

"The virus is so severe outside. How could we possibly leave?"

She placed the milk on the coffee table, trying to keep her voice gentle, "Drink some milk first, or you'll get hungry."

"I don't want it!"

Julius kicked the table leg, spilling most of the milk from the cup.

"If you won't help us find Emily, we won't eat! We'd rather starve than touch anything you make!"

Vera nodded immediately, her little face full of stubbornness, "Right! No food! Unless you take us to Emily right now!"

Looking at her children's tear-filled eyes, Elaine felt utterly helpless.

Seeing Elaine's silence, Julius grew angrier.

"I wish you weren't my mom!"

He glared at her, his little face flushed red. "If it weren't for you, Dad would have married Emily, and we could be with her all the time!"

"Julius!"

Elaine's voice suddenly rose, the color draining from her face.

The same words Julius had said twice in one day.

Those words were like poison—a knife stabbing the most vulnerable part of her heart.

She looked at these two children she had risked her life to bring into the world. The rejection in their eyes chilled her more than the virus outside.

Elaine suddenly felt exhausted—too tired even to explain.

Her heart grew colder by the second, a chill spreading through her limbs.

She remained silent for a long time, until the crying in the living room gradually subsided.

Finally, she slowly raised her head, the light in her eyes completely extinguished.

"Alright." She said softly, her voice unnaturally calm, "Go pack your things."

The twins froze, their crying stopping.

"I'll call your father."

Elaine turned toward the sofa and picked up her phone, her fingers still trembling uncontrollably. "I'll have him come get you."