"Give him a moment," Mei advised, her tone gentle but firm. "Let him process and calm down. Then you can talk to him."
I nodded numbly, letting her guide me to the sofa. She busied herself making another pot of tea, the familiar ritual providing small comfort in the chaos.
But I couldn't sit still. My stomach churned with guilt. I pressed my hand against my mouth, fighting the nausea as I imagined my little boy hurt and upset.
"This is my fault," I whispered, the words like broken glass in my throat. "We should have told him. We should have told him from the beginning."
"Ruby—"
"No." I shook my head, fresh tears streaming down my face. "He found out from a stranger, Mei. Can you imagine? Having someone you don't even know tell you who your father is?" My voice broke. "He must have felt so humiliated. So betrayed."
"You were doing what you thought was best," Mei said gently, setting down the tea kettle.
"My best wasn't good enough." The words tasted bitter as ash.
"He's hurt—"
"Because of me!" I stood abruptly, pacing like a caged animal. "What kind of mother does that make me?"
The truth sat like a stone in my chest. I'd kept silent to protect myself. If Teddy knew, if he bonded with Cristox, if we became a real family and then Cristox walked away, it wouldn't just break Teddy's heart. It would shatter mine. I'd wrapped my cowardice in motherly concern and called it sacrifice.
I sank back onto the couch, burying my face in my hands. The weight of it all pressed down on me. Every lie by omission, every time I'd changed the subject when Teddy asked about his father, every careful deflection that had seemed so necessary at the time.
"I saw his face, Mei," I choked out. "He's four years old. He shouldn't have to feel that kind of betrayal. Not from me. Never from me."
Mei moved closer, her hand hovering near my shoulder but not quite touching, as if she knew I didn't deserve comfort right now.
"All this time, I told myself I was protecting him," I continued, my voice raw. "But I was just protecting myself from the possibility of losing Cristox again. And now I've lost Teddy instead." The realization hit me like a physical blow. "God, what have I done?"
My little boy—my sweet, curious, trusting little boy—had looked at me with such pain in his eyes. Eyes that used to light up whenever I walked into a room. And I'd put that pain there. Me. No one else.
"He deserved the truth," I whispered. "He deserved so much better than what I gave him."
I stood, striding toward his bedroom with sudden determination. Mei didn’t attempt to stop me.
"Teddy?" I knocked softly, pressing my ear to the door. Silence answered me—wrong, too complete, like the absence of a heartbeat. I pushed the door open carefully.
The room was empty. The window stood open, curtains billowing in the breeze.
"Teddy?" My voice pitched higher, panic clawing at my throat. I rushed to the window and looked out into the gathering dusk. "Teddy!"
I ran back into the living room, nearly tripping over my own feet. "He's gone! He climbed out the window!"
Mei was already grabbing her comm. "I'll contact Cristox. He’s on his way back—that's what I came to tell you. You go look for Teddy. I'll grab Bartholemeus, and we'll help."
I bolted out the door before she finished speaking, my heart hammering against my ribs.
The backyard was empty. The narrow alley between houses stretched into shadow, deserted. My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird desperate to escape.
The street blurred past me as I ran, checking every corner, every doorway, every shadowed space where a small boy might hide.
But he wasn't hiding. He was running. Running from me.
"Teddy!" My voice cracked, raw and desperate. A neighbor looked up from her garden, startled. "Have you seen my son? Have you seen Teddy?"
She shook her head, and I kept running.
The late afternoon sun slanted through the buildings, casting long shadows that seemed to reach for me with grasping fingers. Every darkened doorway became a threat. Every empty street a nightmare. My breath came in ragged gasps, my lungs burning, but I couldn't stop. Wouldn't stop.
