[Narrator's point of view]
Leira was standing in the room she had kept him in— a spacious yet empty space with only a bed, a built-in wardrobe, and a bedside table. It was originally designed as a nursery, but Leira had it stripped bare, refurnishing it since it wasn't her child filling it in.
She stared at him from a distance with a narrowed gaze. Her eyes sized him grudgingly, her arms folded across her chest. Oliver, Melanie's son, was sleeping so soundly without a care in the world. He had a head full of thick, black hair just like Melanie— Leira noticed.
'How did she manage it?' Leira asked inwardly, tired of bottling up her emotions. She felt her skin crawl from the thought of her new found threat— Melanie. She was shocked to find that her sister was still alive, but even more surprised to find that she had a child with her. How did she do it?
Leira's jaw set. She was beginning to get agitated. She lifted her thumbnail to her lips, placing it between her teeth.
Her mind reeled. 'How did Melanie manage to keep her baby after everything?! She even fell into a river, goddammit! There was no way she or the child would've survived!'
She exhaled sharply, holding her temples as they tightened with each overwhelming thought clouding in her head. 'Melanie should've been miserable, yet I'm the one who's suffering!'
"How did you keep a baby hale and hearty, whereas one can't even stay in my womb without becoming a fucking bloody mess?!" She snapped, her thoughts escaping her lips sharply. She heaved with labored breaths, but froze on the spot when she heard a soft whimper.
Her gaze snapped up to meet Oliver's body shifting on the sheets. For a moment, her breath caught up in her throat. Luckily, her rants weren't loud enough to snatch him away from the comforts of sleep.
Leira let out a frustrated grunt, her annoyance dissipating. She spun around when the door suddenly creak open.
It was Anthony.
Her gaze retuned to Oliver while Anthony took a stand beside her with his hands tucking into his pockets.
"What are you doing here?" He asked.
Leira sighed deeply, her shoulders falling. She leaned to the side, resting her head on his shoulder while she folded her arms. After a short silence, she murmured "Why does she get to have her child and I don't?"
All she ever wanted was to be happy. Why was Melanie always a hindrance to her happiness?
"Hey, don't say that" Anthony threw an arm around her, pulling her closer to him. His voice was tender and reassuring "Our own child is currently growing in your belly. Plus, Isabella is your child too. From the moment we adopted her, she became our flesh and blood" he tried to coax her.
Leira averted her eyes "You and I know it's not the same thing" Three Years. She had spent three years looking for a child. She wasn't barren. Her womb just wasn't strong enough to hold a baby. As much as she didn't want to admit it, she knew deep down Isabella's adoption was merely a desperate resort to their childlessness.
Leira looked at Anthony again. This time, her gaze was heavy with desperation and despair, the corner of her eyes crinkling with tears she was forced to hold back.
"Melanie has to die this time," she breathed, placing both hands on her protruded belly. She continued, her voice growing inaudible "It's the only way…. knowing she's gone for good"
Anthony placed a kiss on her hair, turning her towards the door to leave. He assured her "I'll make sure of it. I'll get rid of her and that bastard"
With that, they left, oblivious to the pair of gleaming blue eyes watching them from a distance. Once they were out of her range of sight, the observer sprung out of her hiding place, her pigtail braids bouncing as she sprinted to the door.
What was behind it? She was eager to know.
Lead by her curiosity, she burst into the room where a boy around her age was sleeping peacefully on the bed. She slowly closed the door behind her, and with quiet urgency, approached the bed and knelt beside it.
Her gaze, wide with awe, was fixed intently on the boy's face, and after a moment's hesitation, she reached out to gently poke his cheek. The third time, Oliver finally reacted. He groaned, his eyes squinting open.
He blinking twice, meeting the curious stare of a girl with big, round eyes. He sat up and she pulled back, leaving only her hair and eyes visible from behind the bedside.
Oliver averted his gaze from her and began to survey the unfamiliar room calmly. "Where am I?" He asked, his eyes settling back on Isabella. He tilted his head at her "Who are you?"
Taken aback by his question, Isabella stood up with furrowed brows. "Hey, I'm the one who should be asking questions here. I live in this house. Who are you?" her petite frame, once shy now radiated a lively charisma.
Oliver blinked at her. He got down from the bed to face her. His height gave him a slight advantage, forcing her to look up at him.
"I asked you first" said Oliver, his eyes narrowing slightly.
Isabella stood hands akimbo. "You asked first, but I asked second. Two is greater than one, so you have to answer me first." She saw sense in her logic, but Oliver didn't.
He frowned.
He was just about to respond when a loud voice thundered from outside the room. "Isabella! Bath time! Stop this nonsense and come out now!"
Isabella's eyes widened, and she let out a panicked gasp "Oh no! It's Nan Fay!" she spun around, her eyes searching frantically "I have to hide"
Before Oliver could react, Isabella was gone, stuffed stealthily underneath the bed. Just then, a woman barged into the room. She looked furious, her brows smeared from furrowing irritably. The moment she saw Oliver standing by the bed, her rage turned to surprise.
"You're awake" she gasped quietly. She had no idea who he was or where he came from. When she heard a child had been brought to the mansion, she immediately offered to appoint the maids who would care for him, but her Madam, Leira, said there was no need.
The chubby woman, Faye Reagan— or rather Nan Fay as she was referred to in the mansion— snapped back when she felt a slight pull on her cloth. She looked down to find Oliver's helpless gaze.
"Where am I? Where's my mommy?" He asked. Faye blinked twice. He was clueless. Where was the child's mother? Was he kidnapped by Leira and Anthony? Whatever it was, Faye knew better than to pry. She yanked her cloth from his grip and looked away.
"Don't ask questions. Stay put and wait for the Madam to come" she instructed.
"But I don't know who that is" he sounded dejected.
Faye nibbled her lip and looked back at him. "What is your name?" She asked.
He responded obediently "Oliver,"
Faye sighed "Listen baby boy, you have nothing to worry about. I assure you. Just stay here and wait" She spun around after Oliver nodded, about to leave, but paused when she remembered the reason she came there in the first place. She turned back to Oliver,
"You haven't seen a cheeky little girl on blonde pigtails, have you?" She narrowed her gaze, her eyes scanning the room. Oliver stood unresponsive. He just stared at her without saying anything, and that made her mistake his silence for obliviousness.
In the end, Faye left.
When the door closed shut, Isabella hurried out "Hey, hey, why did you take so long to answer?" She stood in front of Oliver with one hand on her hip. She pointed at him "You wanted to tell on me, Huh Oliver" his name left her lips in a mocking voice.
Oliver answered bluntly "My mommy says only naughty boys lie, and I'm not naughty"
Isabella pouted at him "Hmph! I'm just glad Nan Fay didn't catch me"
"You should take your bath." Said Oliver suddenly. He pegged his nose with his fingers as he said "If you don't, you'll stink, and then people will run away from you"
"Is that what your mommy said?" Isabella asked. Oliver nodded. She folded her arms across her chest "Well, I'm not bathing. Bath is for babies!" she was convinced. Nothing and no one could change her mind.
A short silence settled between them, but Isabella was quick to break it when she remembered Oliver's words to Faye. She looked at him, incredulous, "You don't know where your mommy is?"
Oliver nodded vigorously "Can you help me find her?"
She hesitated for a bit, pretending to think if she had free time in her schedule for the day "Errr, only if you promise not to tell Nan Fay I said bath is for babies" she said, sticking out her pinky finger.
Oliver wrapped his pinky finger around hers, nodding "I promise"
"Now," Isabella lifted her hand to stroke her chin just like a bearded detective would in a cop movie. "How do we find your mommy?"
Oliver saw what she did and he too lifted his hand to his chin to think. After a while, he had an inkling "I know!" Isabella looked at him, and he continued "Can you take me to t
he Madam, Isabella?"
Isabella blinked. She had an idea of her own. "Oh, Oliver, I have something better."