When his fever finally broke, exhaustion weighed on me. My hair was a tangled mess, and dark circles were painted beneath my eyes, making me look like something out of a ghost story.
But he had wrapped his tiny arms around my neck, his childish voice sweet and soft.
"Auntie is the prettiest! Even prettier than a fairy!"
That memory was from another lifetime.
As he grew older, Tessa’s visits became frequent, and with each passing year, his hatred for me deepened.
I picked up the dart, rolling it between my fingers before calmly taking aim.
"Stephen, have I ever taught you that when you hurt someone, you'd better be ready to face the consequences?"
He knew my aim was deadly. I had grown up in the countryside, perfecting the art of hitting my mark, stones, birds, targets. I never missed it.
For a brief moment, fear flickered across his face. But then, stubborn as ever, he straightened his back and shouted, "You can't scare me! You seduced my dad and made my mom so angry she died! You stole her place! I have to get revenge for her; I’m not afraid of you!"
"If you’ve got the guts, kill me now! Otherwise, next time, it won’t be a dart; I’ll throw acid on you instead!"
With that, he spun on his heel and bolted into the bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him.
My hand lingered in the air, frozen in place, before I finally let out a quiet, bitter laugh. The dart slipped from my fingers and landed in the trash.
I had made this set of darts as a birthday gift for him. I never imagined they would one day be turned against me.
Suffocating under the weight of reality, I returned to my room and silently packed my belongings into a suitcase.
Laughter spilled from the bedroom at the end of the hallway, bright and unrestrained, cutting through the silence like a blade.
By morning, as I stepped outside, the sight before me drove the dagger deeper.
Tessa was playing shuttlecock with Stephen, his laughter filling the crisp morning air. His small face was flushed with excitement as he threw himself into her arms, eyes sparkling with admiration.
"Auntie, I like you. You look just like my mom, and you can even play the piano pieces she composed! You’re so much better than a certain useless fraud."
His next words came with cruel innocence, each one sharper than the last.