The Shape of Absence

I pulled out my phone and tried to call them, but no matter what I did, the call would not go through.

It seemed they really wanted nothing to do with me anymore.

Still, they had given me so much money. I could raise the child alone.

I soon settled down in a new city.

My belly grew day by day. When it was time to give birth, I called an ambulance by myself.

I raised my child well, but he looked too much like Adrian.

His eyes, his nose bridge, even the curve of his lips when he pressed them together. It was like they had been cut from the same mold.

His personality was similar too.

When he fell, he did not cry. He climbed up by himself and patted his knees, looking solemn and precocious, exactly like that father of his.

Soon it was open day at his preschool.

Other children had their fathers and mothers sitting beside them. Only the seat next to me was empty.

A little kid ran over and asked him, "Owen, why did your dad not come?"

I opened my mouth, but my mind went blank for a beat. Slow and clumsy, I did not know how to answer.

He lifted his face and said very seriously, "It is enough that Mom came. I can take care of Mom by myself. I do not need a dad."

Several parents nearby laughed when they heard him. "This child is so sensible."

One parent looked at him a few more times, then suddenly made a sound of surprise.

"Why does this kid look more and more familiar?"

He tilted his head and studied Owen for a while before slapping his thigh.

"I remember now. He is practically a smaller version of my boss.

"But our boss and his wife are very loving. He did not want his wife to suffer through pregnancy, so they even adopted their child."

I froze where I stood, my mind slowly processing the meaning of those words.

Several parents exchanged glances, their eyes circling over me.

A little boy suddenly laughed and pointed at Owen. "Then aren't you a bastard?

"Your mom is dirty. She is the other woman that rich boss keeps outside. No wonder your dad did not come. You are an illegitimate child."

An adult beside him tugged him back, but there was a meaningful smile at the corner of his mouth.

Owen's small shoulders trembled. He clenched his fists and lunged forward. "Do not talk about my mom!"

By the time I came back to my senses, he was already sitting on top of the other boy.

The child's father rushed over and lifted Owen up. The little boy seized the chance to scratch him, leaving a long bloody mark across Owen's cheek.

The man glanced at me. Seeing that I was raising a child alone, he decided I was easy to bully.

He held Owen up and sneered. "Since this child has no father to discipline him, I will do it for his dad."

Then he raised his hand and slapped Owen's backside.

Owen's eyes reddened, but he bit his lip hard and refused to let his tears fall.

My head buzzed. I rushed forward like a madwoman, snatched my child back, held him in my arms, and turned to leave.

But in the middle of the night, Owen developed a fever.

His little face burned red, and even the breath coming from him was hot.

I carried him on my back and ran all the way to the emergency room. The hallway was packed with people.

After registering, I held my burning child and curled up on a chair. Helplessness rose over me in waves.

At that moment, a faint murmur came from my arms.

"Daddy... Daddy..."

I held him in silence for a moment, tightened my arms around him, and pressed my cheek against his hair.

"Your dad does not remember us. He went to be someone else's dad."

The intercom called our number just then. I quickly stood up with Owen in my arms and hurried toward the exam room. Just as I reached the door, a woman suddenly squeezed in from the side and rushed ahead of me.

"My child scraped his hand. Let us go first."

The moment our eyes met, both of us froze.

It was Vanessa Hale.