Chapter 2
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As the car slowly came to a stop, Cordelia snapped back to the present.
She glanced at the club outside. Seeing that Declan had already pushed the door open and stepped out, she quickly followed suit.
Standing in front of the club, she picked up a wooden stick from the ground and urged Declan, “Hurry up! I’m ready to give Darry a piece of my mind.”
She had been a willful girl herself, but she had never skipped classes. Most of the time, she’d just play around after school.
And her homeroom teacher had never once called her parents–not even a single time! But now, look at her sons… They were really setting a new low.
In the club, Darrell was intently focused on a video game. Suddenly, his phone, lying next to his hand, buzzed several
times.
One of the guys in his posse asked, “Darry, are you really ditching class again this afternoon?”
“Yeah.”
Darrell had red hair, cut in a sharp bald fade.
His youthful face radiated a rebellious attitude, looking both detached and cool.
“What if your teacher calls your parents?”
Darrell didn’t respond. Not a word, not even a flicker of expression. He simply didn’t care.
Declan was always swamped with work, flying around the world all year long. Even if Declan wanted to discipline him, he had no time.
Cordelia never paid much attention to what he did. She didn’t even seem to like him.
Declan and Cordelia fought constantly. They were already living separately and going through a divorce.
Soon, the divorce would be finalized.
He had made up his mind. He wouldn’t live with either of them.
“Darry, that woman looks like your mom … doesn’t she?”
Finally, Darrell reacted. He sneered, “Are you fucking blind? My mom? Why the hell would she be here?”
He lazily glanced toward where his friend was pointing–and froze.
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There was Cordelia, searching for him.
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The club was packed with boys around his age, their hair dyed in every color imaginable. The air hung thick with smoke and curses. Clearly uncomfortable, she pressed forward.
Declan walked close behind her, his expression icy, but his protective stance toward her was unmistakable. As his ra- zor–sharp gaze swept over the crowd, the rowdy punks shrank back, dropping their eyes to the floor, not daring to look up.
Cordelia asked Declan, “Are you sure Darry’s here?”
“No.”
“Then why did you bring me here?” she snapped.
Suddenly, Declan pointed toward a spot not far from them.
“There he is.”
She immediately stormed over, stopping in front of Darrell before Declan could.
Darrell had already set down the game controller. He looked at them, his face tense.
It had been so long since he’d seen them together–he was almost in a trance.
Cordelia grabbed him by the collar. “Come with me. Now.”
G
As she spoke, she waved the wooden stick, fully prepared to teach him a lesson if he resisted.
She promised she’d be gentle.
But Darrell didn’t resist at all. He walked out of the club in silence.
Following behind him, Cordelia was seething with rage as she looked at his red hair. She turned and glared fiercely at Declan, directing all her anger at him.
“Why didn’t you do something? Can’t you see his hair?” she hissed under her breath.
“He was smoking in there, wasn’t he? Did he learn that from you?
“And he’s addicted to video games! I bet you taught him that, too.”
Declan just looked at her without saying a word. She wasn’t herself today. What had gotten into her?
Once outside the club, Declan walked to a secluded corner, claiming he needed to take a work call. Instead, he dialed Fredrick Barton, Cordelia’s attending physician.
“Hello, Dr. Barton. This is Declan. I have a question–could my wife’s car accident have caused amnesia?”
After listening to Declan describe her symptoms, Frederick replied with certainty, “Yes, it’s possible.
“There was a small hematoma in Mrs. Beasley’s brain. But she refused further hospitalization and insisted on being
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Chapter 2
discharged against our advice.”
“I see. Thank you.” Declan nodded.
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Standing by the car with Darrell, Cordelia waited for Declan to finish his call. As soon as she saw him approaching, she hurried them both into the vehicle.
Waving impatiently at Declan, she said, “Come on, busy man. We still have to find Raddy.
“Hurry up! It’s getting dark.”
As Declan watched her fidgeting, he suddenly took hold of her arm and asked tentatively, “Why aren’t you wearing your wedding ring today?”
Cordelia glanced down at her bare ring finger, her mind blank.
The ring hadn’t been there when she woke up. How was she supposed to know?
Not wanting to raise his suspicions, she lied quickly, “I left in a hurry and forgot.”
He nodded silently and followed her into the car.
Sure enough, she had lost her memory. She’d thrown away their wedding ring years ago during one of their heated ar- guments.
It seemed she had forgotten many years‘ worth of memories–exactly how many, he couldn’t tell.
As the car started moving again, the atmosphere inside grew quiet.
Cordelia glanced irritably at Darrell, wondering how to communicate with him properly.
Though Darrell remained silent, his eyes occasionally flickered toward his parents sitting across from him.
He was so surprised that they had come together to find him. Had they reconciled? Was the divorce off?
Noticing they were heading back home, Cordelia frowned in confusion.
“Why are we going back? We still have to find Raddy!”
Declan gently caught her hand as she waved anxiously in the air. “Raddy is already at home.”
She was stunned.
It seemed she had indeed forgotten a lot. Or … perhaps she had never truly cared about her children in the first place.
In fact, every time Conrad skipped class, it wasn’t to fool around outside. Instead, he would always go straight home.
He was introverted, often avoiding conversation–simply put, he was autistic.
As the car pulled into the driveway, Darrell was the first one out, charging toward the door.
“Stop right there!”
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Finally, they were home. Cordelia had been bottling up her anger the whole ride, and now it was time to discipline this defiant boy.
Darrell halted, turned around, and watched as Cordelia marched toward him.
He had skipped class before just to get her attention, but she had never seemed to care–never even bothered to ask why.
“Tell me! Why did you skip class today? You see this stick? If you don’t give me a proper reason, brace yourself!”
Suddenly, Darrell’s butt began to ache in anticipation.
But he didn’t flinch. Instead, he lifted his chin defiantly.
“I didn’t want to go.”
“What? Then what do you want to do, huh?”
Cordelia was burning with rage. How dare he skip class and still act so righteous?
What on earth had she and Declan been doing all those years? How could they have let him go so far astray?
“Answer me! What is it you want? Video games? Smoking? Is that it?”
She demanded while poking Darrell’s shoulder with the wooden stick.
He receded under the prodding. A few seconds passed before he answered, his cheeks flushing red, “Yes. I like video games. And I like smoking.”
Seething with rage, Cordelia staggered back, covering her forehead as her chest heaved violently.
Seeing her like this, Declan was terrified, his expression changing drastically. Fearing she had been overcome with anger, he immediately stepped forward to steady her.
As Cordelia fell into his arms, a faint, refreshing scent wafted from him, so pleasant that she couldn’t help but inhale a few times.
By the time she turned around, Darrell had already bolted.
Furious again, she shoved Declan away and stormed into the villa.
Darrell was nowhere to be seen in the living room. Conrad, however, was sitting on the sofa properly, his refined face calm, almost serene.
Hearing the commotion, he glanced up at her–only for a fleeting moment–before lowering his gaze back to his book, utterly absorbed.
She walked over, stood in front of him, and softened her tone.
“Raddy, why did you skip class today?”
But after a long time, she still heard no reply.
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He was completely immersed in the pages as though she weren’t there.
His non–response landed like another heavy blow, right after her confrontation with Darrell. Two shocks in one day
left her numb. She sank onto the sofa, feeling as though she’d aged ten years in minutes.
What had she ever done to deserve this? How had her children turned out to be such a handful?
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