Chapter 4

Logan gave me a skeptical look.

“Isn’t Artie supposed to start school soon? Why are you suddenly taking him back to your hometown?”

“There’s a funeral in the family. I’m taking him back to pay my respects.”

He paused briefly, then signed the document without perusing it.

“Okay. Stay a few more days then. No need to rush back.”

I lowered my gaze, hiding the redness at the corners of my eyes.

“Mm.”

We were never returning after this.

I put away the signed papers and saw him out.

Before leaving, he suddenly stopped as if he’d remembered something. He pulled two caramel toffees from his pocket and handed them to me.

I paused for a moment before taking the sweets from him. They were still warm from his body heat.

These toffees were Artie’s favorite when he was alive.

Logan explained, “I’d actually bought them for Jenny’s kid, but he didn’t like them, so I left them at the hospital.

“So happened I have these two left in my pocket. Give them to Artie. Don’t waste them.”

My face grew paler by the moment.

I stared at the toffees in my hand. The light in my eyes gradually faded until all that remained was deep exhaustion and emptiness.

“Okay.”

One more day.

…

On the third day, I went alone to the crematorium to send my son off for the last time.

That evening after we’d enrolled him in elementary school, Logan wasn’t at home, so Artie and I sat in the courtyard enjoying the cool evening breeze.

He lay in my lap, watching me sew his schoolbag whilst telling me, “Mom, when I start school, I’ll study really hard and serve the country. Just like Dad.

“Mom, do you believe I’ll become a great hero like Dad?”

I stroked his head, my face beaming with pride.

“Of course, I do. Our Artie is the best.”

I never thought that just a few days later, he would be taken from me forever right before school started, all because of Logan’s failure to come to his aid.

I closed my eyes and let the tears flow, soaking the school bag in my hands.

Looking at his name “Arthur Pearce” that I had sewn onto it myself, I could no longer hold back and burst into tears.

My son.

You were only five years old.

You had just enrolled in school.

You hadn’t even had the chance to carry the school bag I made for you, nor to say hello to your classmates and teachers.

You hadn’t had the chance to tell your father that your dream was to protect your country just like he did…

Yet you were gone.

Without warning.

And left me alone in this painful world.

I had no idea how long I cried. All I knew was that by the time the staff handed me Artie’s urn, my eyes were so parched that not a single tear remained.

I placed the urn inside Artie’s school bag and went home in a daze.

I hadn’t slept a wink all night because I had made him a new set of clothes.

As I placed the clothes with the urn in his school bag and was just about to fasten it, a deep voice suddenly resounded from behind me.

“What’s that you’re holding?”

My heart jumped. I quickly wiped my face and tried to change the subject.

“Why are you back? Don’t you need to keep Jenny company?”

Logan gave me a strange look and placed a paper box on the table.

“Where’s Artie? I’ve bought him his favorite walnut tart.”

Logan was a colonel and often went on missions.

Sometimes, he’d be gone for half a month or more.

Whenever he returned, he’d bring Artie a whole walnut tart.

And every time the scent filled the house, no matter what he was doing, Artie would immediately run out excitedly to greet Logan.