Chapter 2

The cabin was stiflingly quiet, with only the dull thud of the wipers sweeping across the glass. He didn't turn on the radio, nor did he make a sound. When waiting at red lights, he would turn his head to glance at me, then quickly look away. I stared at the rapidly retreating streetscapes outside the window. It had been six years. The old cafe on the corner was torn down, a new bridge was built over by the old docks, and even the private high school I used to attend had been renovated. "Your room at the main estate hasn't been touched," he suddenly spoke. "Your mother had someone clean it every week. That pot of gardenias on your windowsill is still alive; they repotted it four times." "Your grandfather wants you to come back to the main estate. Once your mother's surgery is done, if you don't want to see them... I'll help you decline." "No need," I interrupted coldly. "I'll handle my own affairs. Also, I'm staying at a hotel." He didn't say anything else. When the car parked downstairs at St. Agnes Hospital, the rain had just stopped. "I'll wait for you downstairs," he said. "No need." I pulled the car door open. "I'll leave on my own later." "Ivy." He stopped me, grabbing a thermal bag from the passenger seat and holding it out, his knuckles gripping the top. "It's the chicken soup your mother loves. I'll be right here. Call me anytime if you need anything." I didn't take it. I turned and walked straight into the inpatient building. The room was on the nineteenth floor. Pushing the door open, I saw my mother lying on the hospital bed with an oxygen tube in her nose. Her face was sallow, and she was trapped in a heavy sleep. Sitting by the bed was Ophelia. She was wearing a beige knit dress, her hair pinned loosely at the back of her head. She was peeling an apple, her face pale and fragile as always, looking as though a slightly stronger gust of wind could blow her over. Six years unseen, and she still had that weak, innocent look. Hearing the noise, she turned her head. When she saw me, tears immediately welled up in her eyes. "Ivy, you're finally back. Mom has been talking about you all these days, she finally got her wish." I walked over to the bed and touched the back of my mother's hand. "Why are you here." I didn't look up, my tone flat. "I'm Mom's daughter, of course I should take care of her," her voice was soft. "You were gone for six years, I couldn't just leave all these family matters unattended." Her words practically screamed that I hadn't done my part for a single day in the last six years. I ignored her, using a tissue to wipe away the stray hairs at my mother's temple. "Ivy," Ophelia spoke again, her voice cautious. "I know you blame me for marrying Gideon, but it was an accident back then, and the child was an accident too..." "How old is the child." I cut her off and turned to look at her. She froze instantly, her face losing several shades of color. She bit her lip, tears swimming in her eyes. Footsteps sounded from behind, heavy and familiar. I didn't turn around, but Ophelia's eyes instantly lit up. Her voice carried just the right amount of a choke. "Gideon, why did you come up? Didn't we agree you'd wait downstairs?" That familiar cedarwood scent drifted over, stopping two steps away from me. "You didn't come down for a long time, so I came to check." Gideon's voice was deep. "The room is stuffy, and you just recovered from your asthma. Don't stay too long, go downstairs and get some fresh air first." "I'm fine." Ophelia offered a soft smile, reaching out naturally to hook her arm through his. "You're the one who needs to change. You got rained on and didn't change your clothes. Your stomach is going to act up again." The movement was practiced and natural, as if she had done it thousands of times. I stared at the hand my mother was receiving her IV in and didn't say a word. "I'll stay and keep Mom company." I stood up. "You two can go. Don't disturb her rest." "Ivy..." Ophelia tried to say something else. "Keep quiet." I looked up and shot her a glance, my eyes so cold that her voice came to an abrupt halt. Gideon frowned, but in the end, he placed a hand on Ophelia's shoulder. "We'll wait outside. Call me if you need anything." The two of them walked out side by side. Before leaving the room, Ophelia turned to look at me. There wasn't a trace of grievance in those eyes, only a winner's smugness.