Chapter 4

The day of Lance's follow-up appointment, Mom made a point of taking leave so she could take him out and take his mind off things.

I remembered when I had a high fever and lay unconscious in bed, Mom had refused to stay home to take care of me. The excuse she gave was that work came first.

So, why had that changed now?

It turned out that for Lance, she was willing to set aside every last one of her principles.

I gently closed my eyes, unwilling to dwell any longer on all the grievances I had suffered in the past. But when I saw how tenderly Mom asked about Lance's health, I still felt jealous.

She carefully read through the medical report in her hands.

"The doctor said you don't have any major problems—you're pretty much all better now. I just knew it—someone as blessed as you always lands on their feet. There was no way anything bad was going to happen to you."

When I saw her relax, I wished so badly I could remind her that she still had another son.

Perhaps a trace of conscience still remained, because Mom finally remembered me, her eldest son, who had been completely cast aside and forgotten.

She furrowed her brows and asked, "Has Brett not contacted you during this time either?"

At the mention of my name, Lance tensed up for a moment. Then, he forced a casual smile and said, "He's never wanted to talk to me anyway, so of course he wouldn't contact me. Mom, let's just go home."

With that, he hurriedly stood up and reached for Mom's hand, anxious that she might think of me again.

But this time, Mom actually pulled her hand back, looking somewhat doubtful.

In the past, no matter how big a tantrum I threw, I would always come crawling back within a few days to admit my mistakes. So, how could it be that now there wasn't a single message from me?

Could something really have happened to me?

But she quickly dismissed that thought.

After all, my character was so rotten beyond belief that I was probably hiding somewhere, living it up, and making them worry on purpose.

Mom smiled at Lance. "You must be tired. I'll go pay the fees and then take you home. I bought lots of your favorite things to cook you a big sumptuous meal today."

Lance finally breathed a sigh of relief and nodded quickly.

Mom knocked on the doctor's office door and handed over Lance's medical records.

After the doctor gave a few instructions, Mom casually asked, "When was Brett discharged from the hospital? Why hasn't he come home yet? As far as I can see, it was just a minor injury—is there really any need for him to make such a big fuss about it?"

She rambled on, completely unaware that the doctor had suddenly stopped writing. By the time she sensed something was off, the doctor's expression had already grown deeply troubled.

"Are you really not aware of what happened to Brett?"

Mom found it strange. "He hasn't even come home, so how would I know? Don't tell me he's caused trouble again. All that good-for-nothing ever does is cause me trouble every single day!"

As a mother, her first reaction wasn't to worry about my safety, but to suspect that I had gotten into trouble. When things between a mother and son had come to this, there was really nothing left to speak of.

The doctor let out a heavy sigh, then pulled out a medical file and placed it on the table.

"Brett passed away on the day of the car accident. His injuries were too severe to be treated. His death was rather tragic. I'm so sorry for your loss."

The office instantly fell into silence.

Mom stared at the file marked "Deceased" in her trembling hands.

Her mind went completely blank, leaving only the doctor's somewhat sympathetic words echoing, "Brett has already passed away. It was a car accident. It's a pity—if he had been brought in earlier, there might still have been a chance to save him."