Spring Beneath the Grave

Elora pointed at the little boy, enunciating every word, "Is he Lilah's child with you?"

Rodger's face darkened instantly.

He never imagined that the illegitimate child he had with Lilah would show up in his office, right in front of Elora.

But now, there was no point denying it.

Rodger closed his eyes.

"Elora, listen to me. This was an accident. What's done is done. We should look forward, not dwell on the past. And besides… Franny is gone. Don't you remember what the doctor said? The injuries you sustained were severe, affecting your health permanently. We won't have children anymore. He... might be the only child I'll ever have."

The words struck Elora deeply.

Her body swayed. Her face turned deathly pale.

Memories came crashing back.

Years ago, during a sudden attack, in the chaos, a sharp blade lunged toward Rodger's back. Elora hadn't hesitated for even a second before throwing herself in front of him.

She was injured in the abdomen.

Through the searing pain, all she remembered were Rodger's bloodshot eyes and his heart-rending screams.

When she woke up, she was told the injury had serious long-term consequences for her health.

She had been shattered. And Rodger had held her tightly, repeating over and over, "It's okay, Elora. As long as I have you, that's enough. Franny is all we need…"

The pain and guilt in his eyes back then had felt so real.

So it had all been an act.

Rodger spoke again, yanking her out of her memories.

"This child… he's my only son now. And he'll be your support in the future. Elora, let the past go. From now on, treat him as your own. Raise him like your biological child. He'll take care of you when you're old. Isn't that better?"

Elora froze.

Something cool slid down her face. She reached up, and her hand came back wet with tears.

Yet her heart felt eerily numb.

"Treat him as my own?" Elora laughed.

So while she had been breaking apart over her daughter's death, silently mourning the loss of her ability to conceive… the husband she had loved with her whole heart had already had a son with another woman—old enough to walk and talk.

"Rodger, you want me to raise the son of the woman who got my daughter killed… as my own? You disgust me."

Rodger suddenly pulled her close.

She struggled, but he held her firmly, trying to calm her.

"Alright, alright, Elora. Take it out on me. It's my fault. I'll take it all."

She didn't know how long she fought before finally breaking free from his arms, gasping for air.

"Lilah, take Elora downstairs to the clinic and get her wounds treated. I'll finish up some work and come find you. You two... talk things through. You'll be seeing each other for a long time. Don't keep fighting. People need to move forward."

Elora tugged at the corner of her mouth in a faint, hollow smile.

She was exhausted. She didn't want to fight anymore.

When the heart was already dead, what was the point of arguing over love?

As Elora had her wounds bandaged, Lilah stood unusually quiet at her side, not stirring up trouble for once.

After some time, Rodger appeared at the stairwell.

Suddenly, Lilah screamed and slammed hard into a nearby medical cart.

Equipment scattered everywhere, scraping her exposed skin.

"Madam! I'm sorry, I will definitely leave Mr. Rodger alone and never entangle with him! Please spare my life, Drake is so young, he needs his mother!"

The words hit Elora like a knife.

Drake, Rodger and Lilah's son.

Five years old. A full year older than Franny.

Which meant Rodger had already cheated on her before she was even pregnant. How dare he?

Elora confronted Lilah, about to demand answers when a tearing pain exploded at the back of her head.

She turned. Rodger firmly held her back, his face expressionless as he reprimanded her.

"Elora! I've told you a hundred times, stop bullying Lilah and learn to get along with her peacefully! Do you not understand human language?!"