After settling the matters at hand, I went to pick up Jack from his grandmother's house. But I hadn't expected that when he saw me, he wouldn't run to me, calling out in his soft, babyish voice, "Mom." He didn't remember me anymore. Later, when he started school and mingled with classmates, he grew even more distant. He complained that I wasn't like the other mothers—successful and admirable. He said I didn't have a "real job."

The police officer's voice jolted me out of my thoughts.

As it turned out, Caleb had been clever enough to hide in a trash bin and escape. He never boarded that ill-fated ship. A homeless man had found him and taken him in, and the two had relied on each other all these years. Recently, after the old man passed away, someone discovered Caleb living alone and reported it to the authorities. That's how they found him.

Caleb was dark-skinned, frail, and timid, his demeanor utterly heart-wrenching. I knelt down, gently stroking his small head. "Don't be scared. I'm your aunt."

He blinked up at me, his eyes darting, as if trying to make sense of everything.

"From now on, you'll never go hungry or cold again. You'll live with me."

His mother had been an orphan, so there were no grandparents on her side. That made me Caleb's only living family. I brought him home, cleaned him up, and dressed him in new clothes.

When I held his tiny hands, I noticed they were covered in chilblains. I fetched the first-aid kit and applied medicine to his wounds as gently as I could. The little guy was tough. Even though it clearly hurt, he didn't make a sound.

I put on a cartoon for him. "Watch this for a while. I'll go make you a sandwich."

When I came back with the plate, I found him fast asleep. As I covered him with a soft blanket, he woke up.

The sight triggered a memory—Jack, when he was little, had woken up just like that. He'd cling to my neck, slow and sleepy, like a baby sloth. He was unbearably adorable.

Unable to resist, I pulled Caleb into my arms. But instead of hugging my neck as Jack used to, he reached up and touched my face.

Snapping out of my thoughts, I whispered, "Caleb, I'm your aunt. From now on, this is your home, and we'll live together."

The little boy tilted his head back to look at me, his eyes shining. "Aunt? Why aren't you my mom?"

"I am your dad's sister, not your mom," I explained. "Do you want to see your mom?"

He nodded, and I held him as I pulled out old photographs, showing him each one and recounting the stories behind them. When we finished, he suddenly leaned over and kissed my cheek. In his sweet, childish voice, he called me "Auntie."

In that moment, I felt my heart melt completely.

Caleb was old enough for school but had never attended one. I quickly contacted a kindergarten and got him enrolled. To my relief, he adjusted easily, unlike Jack, who had cried and resisted for days.

Our lives gradually found a rhythm, and Caleb and I grew closer. I enjoyed making snacks in my free time, and the things Jack used to scorn, Caleb ate with delight.

One day, as I was preparing a sandwich for him, my phone rang. It was Ethan.

His voice was raspy, as if he'd just woken up. "There's a mall opening ceremony tomorrow."

Out of habit, I rattled off what outfit matched which accessories and even pointed out the exact location in his wardrobe. But the moment the words left my mouth, I fell silent. I realized I had been doing this on autopilot for years.

On the other end, I could hear the faint sounds of him rummaging through his closet. He stayed quiet, seemingly lost in thought.

Finally, I broke the silence. "If that's all, I'll hang up now."

Suddenly, he asked, "Do you want to come with me tomorrow?"

I couldn't help but feel a pang of bitterness. Back when we were married, I had begged him to take me to events like this, and he never once agreed. Now that we were divorced, what was the point?

"I won't go. And from now on, don't call me again. Call your stylist or your housekeeper. Just don't call me. We're divorced now, remember?"

As I was about to hang up, his voice shifted tone, steering the conversation elsewhere. "Today, I'm taking Jack to Happy Swimtime for his swimming class. You can come and see him if you'd like."

"No need," I replied curtly, and before he could say anything more, I hung up without hesitation.

Placing the phone down, I returned to making sandwiches for Caleb.

Life rolled on in its calm, unremarkable rhythm.

That is, until one day, when I stepped out of a livestream session and picked up an unfamiliar call.

It was the head teacher from Jack's kindergarten. Her voice was enthusiastic, tinged with expectation. "Today is art class parent-child day, and we're inviting all parents to join their kids. All the other parents are here already—just waiting on Jack's."

I cut her off mid-sentence. "I'm sorry, but his father and I are divorced. His father has full custody now. I won't be involved in these matters anymore."

There was a brief pause, her tone turning slightly awkward. I pressed on. "Is Jack nearby? Could you put him on speaker, please?"

The confirmation came, followed by a click, and then my voice rang out, clear and detached, in front of the entire class and their parents.

"Jack, as we discussed before, I'm no longer your mother. Your father and I are divorced, and I won't be handling anything related to you from now on. Don't call me again."

Without waiting for a reply, I muttered an apology to the teacher, ended the call, and let the quiet seep back in.

After work, I went to pick up Caleb from his kindergarten. We treated ourselves to dinner at my favorite restaurant, where the table next to us happened to be celebrating a birthday.

It suddenly occurred to me that Caleb's birthday must be coming up. A quick check of the calendar confirmed it—this Sunday.

On Sunday, I cleared my schedule completely, determined to make it a special day for him. He probably hadn't celebrated a birthday in years.

After ordering our food, I left Caleb at the table to fetch the cake. As I walked back toward the restaurant, cake in hand, I unexpectedly crossed paths with Ethan and Casey.

Casey was the first to speak. "Aren't you supposed to be divorced?"

I ignored her, stepping past them without a word, but Ethan grabbed my arm. His voice dripped with mockery. "Not so high and mighty now, are you? I knew you wouldn't last long. And now here you are, crawling back with a cake to celebrate your son's birthday. Don't you feel ashamed?"

"Let go," I said flatly. "Who told you this is for Jack?"

His grip tightened, and his expression hardened. "If it's not for him, then who?"

"I don't see why that's any of your concern." My voice was calm but final. "Move aside. You can get on with your little family celebration."

Ethan's face darkened. "Victoria, don't push me. Don't make me lose my temper."

I brushed past him and entered the restaurant.

Caleb saw me from across the room and waved, his smile lighting up the dim space. I waved back, but from the corner of my eye, I noticed Jack sitting at the table next to ours. His face twisted into a scowl as he glared at me, clearly assuming my wave was meant for him.

Ignoring him, I sat beside Caleb and helped him dig into his food.

Moments later, Ethan and Casey walked in. Seeing me and Caleb together, Ethan froze, disbelief flashing across his face.

"Victoria, who is he?" he asked, his voice strained.

"That's none of your business," I replied without looking up.

His face contorted with suppressed anger, but the public setting kept him in check.

Caleb and I focused on our meal, savoring every bite as if no one else existed.

Near the end of dinner, Caleb said he needed to use the restroom. When I offered to accompany him, he insisted he could manage on his own. I let him go, watching as he disappeared down the hall.

Not long after, I saw Jack heading in the same direction. I figured it was just a coincidence and thought nothing of it.

But then a commotion broke out. A server rushed into the dining area, shouting, "Someone come quickly! Two kids are fighting!"

My heart dropped. I leaped from my seat and ran to the restroom.

There they were—Jack and Caleb, sprawled on the floor, both sporting fresh bruises.

Jack's eyes welled up with tears as he looked at me, his voice trembling. "Mommy, it hurts so much."

I crouched down, scooping Caleb into my arms without a second thought.