Yet, despite the illusion of Markâs company, a palpable emptiness pervaded the hall.
Cecilia observed her son from a distance and was well aware of the weight of his thoughts.
The urge to join him tugged at her heartstrings.
But Waylen gently touched the back of her hand and whispered, âLet me handle it.
â
Cecilia nodded, her eyes tinged with redness.
Waylen said gently, âItâs New Yearâs Eve, and youâre about to give birth.
Donât cry; itâs ominous, okay?â
Waylen asked Rena to keep Cecilia company.
Then he walked to the door and saw Edwin gazing at the snow outside, stiffly holding his small form in his arms.
In a daze, Edwin thought he had caught a glimpse of Mark.
Waylen sat beside Edwin.
Waylen enfolded him in his arms to shield him from the cold.
Then he lowered his head and asked gently, âAre you missing your dad?â
Edwin remained silent.
Markâs departure had deeply traumatized Edwin.
He had always been an introverted child, and now he had retreated even further into his shell.
After a long pause, Edwin finally spoke up.
âI heard that he took Laura with him.
â
Waylen gently ran his fingers through the boyâs hair, his touch soft and reassuring.
He chose not to reveal the painful truth: that Laura had been mistreated by the servants in the villa, prompting Mark to take her away to ensure her safety.
Edwin stared at the snow, his eyes clouded with sadness.
âIs he still alive?â he asked softly.
Waylenâs voice caught in his throat as he replied, âYes, he is still alive.
â
Edwin murmured, âWhy didnât he come back to see me and my mom?
Sometimes, mom cries at night.
â
Waylen pressed a gentle ki*s to Edwinâs head.
He then said, âGrow up quickly, Edwin.
Be there for your mom when she needs someone to rely on.
â