The air was thick with emotions as Peter confronted his mother, Liya, after 16 long years of
separation. The little boy who had been left behind at a bus stop, waiting in vain for his mother's
return, now stood before her as a young man, his heart torn between joy and anger.
"Why?" Peter's voice cracked with emotion. "Why did you leave me there? You lied to me,
Mother. You told me you'd be back in an hour, but you never came. I waited for days, just sitting
on that bench, waiting for you. And you never came."
Liya's eyes welled up with tears as she beheld her son's anguish. She had expected anger, but
the depth of Peter's pain shook her to her core.
"I was just a four-year-old boy," Peter continued, his voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't
understand why you left me. I didn't believe anyone when they said you abandoned me. I
thought, 'Why would my mother, whom I loved more than anything, leave me?' I didn't do
anything wrong, Mother. So why did you leave me?"
The silence that followed was oppressive, as if the weight of Liya's secrets threatened to crush
her. Peter's eyes bore into hers, demanding an answer, demanding the truth.
Liya took a deep breath, steeling herself for the revelation that would change everything. "Peter,
my son," she began, her voice trembling. "I'm so sorry. I was in a desperate situation, and I
made a choice that I thought would protect you…".
Liya's words tumbled out in a sorrowful cascade, as if the weight of her secrets had finally
become too much to bear. "I loved your father, Sanny... Peter, at a very young age. We married
young, and you were born. But life had other plans. Your father left me when you were just one
year old."
Peter's eyes narrowed, his gaze piercing as he listened to his mother's tale. Liya's voice cracked
as she continued, "I tried to raise you alone, but I was scared. I met someone, a good man, but
he didn't want a child with me. I was desperate, and I made a choice... a horrible choice."
The air was heavy with the weight of Liya's guilt as she whispered, "I left you at the bus stop,
Peter. I know it was wrong, and I'm so sorry. I thought you would... manage somehow."
Peter's face contorted in anguish as he took a step closer to Liya. "You thought I would
manage?" he repeated, his voice trembling. "I was hungry, scared of the dark, and alone.
Nobody came to help me, nobody told me it would be okay. Why would they? My mother had
left me to fend for myself."
Liya's eyes welled up with tears as she protested, "No, Peter, I never meant to leave you to die.
I thought... I thought you would find a way to survive."
The words hung in the air like a challenge, as if Peter's very existence was a testament to his
own resilience. Liya's face crumpled, her body shaking with sobs as she beheld the son she had
abandoned so many years ago. The tension in the air was palpable as Liya hesitated, her eyes darting between Peter and her
husband, John. Peter's anger and hurt were evident, but he remained silent, waiting for Liya to
reveal the true reason behind her sudden interest in him.
Just as Liya was about to speak, John walked into the house, his eyes scanning the room until
they landed on Peter. His expression changed from curiosity to surprise, and he turned to Liya,
asking, "Is it him?" Liya's nod was almost imperceptible.
Peter's gaze locked onto John, his eyes blazing with anger, but he remained frozen, unsure of
how to react. Liya took a deep breath and began to speak, her words sending shockwaves
through the room.
"Peter, I know this may come as a shock to you, but... I need your help. My daughter, your
half-sister, is dying. She needs a heart transplant, and... I want you to donate your heart to her."
The room fell silent, as if time itself had stopped. Peter's eyes widened in horror, his mind
reeling from the enormity of Liya's request. John's face turned red with rage, and he exploded,
"Liya, are you mad? A mother can't ask something like that! We have no right to ask Peter for
such a sacrifice!.