CHAPTER 12: CHAPTER 12: MOM ISN’T DIRTY AT ALL

Christopher Carter ran to deliver cake and pastries to Yvette Aston.

Yvette Aston wiped her hands, dirtied from picking up garbage, nervously looked at Christopher, and took a step back.

Having gone through so much, Yvette feared everyone and didn’t trust Christopher.

Christopher noticed this and smiled as he spoke. "They’re all new and unopened, see for yourself."

Yvette said nothing, just looked down at the ground, gripping her pants tightly with both hands.

She was very hungry, she really wanted them, but she didn’t want to beg.

"Well, aren’t you collecting bottles? This is what Mr. Grant asked me to give you. It only cost a little over a hundred dollars—when you’ve saved enough, you can pay Mr. Grant back," Christopher pointed to the car parked by the road.

Yvette Aston looked in the direction Christopher pointed, Ethan Grant...

Nodded slightly, Yvette took the cake.

She would repay him. She wanted to create every possible opportunity to get close to Ethan Grant.

Carrying her collected bottles, Yvette limped back.

Her ankle hurt a lot; it had been stomped and swelled by Claudia Bell.

Numbly, she walked back to the Grant Family’s storage room, carefully wiped her hands, and softly called out to the already asleep Summers, "Summers, wake up to eat."

Jayden Grant hadn’t assigned anyone to watch her specifically because Jayden knew Yvette wouldn’t dare run.

If she ran away, she’d be caught and brought back anyway.

Simply, she didn’t run.

Left to atone.

George Aston had promised Yvette; donating a kidney would be enough to repay twenty years of upbringing.

Afterwards, she wouldn’t owe them anything.

No longer indebted.

"Mom..." Summers awoke groggily, noticed the little cake, his eyes brightened, and he licked his lips. "Is mom an angel?"

Yvette chuckled, giving all the little cakes to Summers. "Mom is magic."

"Mom is amazing." Summers kissed Yvette’s forehead.

Yvette instinctively dodged. "Mom... dirty."

"Mom isn’t dirty," Summers held Yvette’s face, his little face full of seriousness. "Mom is the cleanest."

Yvette choked for a moment, laughing as tears uncontrollably welled up. "Summers, be good, hurry and eat."

"Mom eats." Summers was very obedient, very sensible; he knew the first bite was for mom.

Yvette was very hungry, but she still wanted to save it for Summers. "Mom has eaten."

"Mom is lying," Summers insisted Yvette eat before he would.

Yvette sat beside Summers, let him lean against her, taking the bread and biting; so sweet.

Really sweet.

In these years of prison, she had almost forgotten the taste of sweetness.

"Mom, where is dad? Is he a superhero? Will he come to save us?"

That night, Yvette hugged her son to sleep.

Summers asked many questions.

"Dad went to save aliens, so he left and it will take a long, long time before he returns."

"Dad is a hero."

Yvette was crafting a fictional image of a father for Summers, hoping her son could grow up healthily and happily, without lacking anything or having regrets.

"Summers, maybe mom will also go to outer space to find dad, and it may take a long, long time to come back..." Yvette softly said.

Summers suddenly fell silent.

"Summers..." Yvette’s heart tightened.

Summers started crying. "Mom, don’t leave."

He was just afraid of mom leaving too.

Yvette hugged Summers tightly, tears wetted the corners of her eyes.

She would die, die on the operating table.

...

"Get up; all you do is sleep."

Early the next morning, Yvette was kicked awake by the nanny.

She instinctively protected her child, drowsiness thick as she sat up.

"Eat! Don’t say I starved you," the nanny tossed a bowl of spoiled food and left.

Summers also sat up, sniffed the food, feeling a bit nauseous. "Mom, it’s spoiled, can’t eat it."

Yvette said nothing, carried the bowl and limped outside, dumped it in the trash, cleaned the bowl, fetched cool water to rinse her mouth, then took Summers to wash up.

"Mom, where are we going?"

Yvette gestured for Summers to stay quiet. "Home, to find uncle."

Just as they reached the door, Jayden Grant returned.

His car parked outside, a little boy got out, looking roughly Summers’ age, holding a giant Ultraman.

Yvette knew that was Jayden Grant’s sister’s child; the eldest in the Grant Family was Ethan Grant, Chelsea Grant was the Miss of the Grant Family, and she and Jayden were twins.

The year she was pregnant, Chelsea Grant was also pregnant, also unmarried.

"Uncle, who is he?" Stephen Sinclair pointed at Summers, asking with high alert.

Jayden Grant’s eyes darkened slightly, his voice cold. "Stay away from him, he’s dirty."

Summers lowered his head, feeling wronged, looking at his washed-to-faded clothes; his uncle had cleaned them. He was not dirty at all.