Revenge Or Love ✔

Part Three

Kyle POV.

My name is Kyle Taylor, and I am five years old.

I live with my mom and dad, and they love me very much. Every year, we celebrate my birthday together.

My mom reads bedtime stories to me and sings lullabies every night. She holds me, touches my face, and kisses my forehead.

I lied to you.

I don't have a mom. My grandpa and my dad never mentioned her.

But today, I found a photo in my dad's study. The photo was hidden on the top shelf of the bookcase, showing a woman I don't recognize.

The butler said she's my mom.

I want to find her.

The butler said she's in a place called Hudson Valley. I pack my backpack with a compass, dried flowers, a snail shell, and two storybooks.

Then, on Saturday morning, I set out with the butler.

It's a secret mission, so we pretend we're going out to play soccer and sneak out through the back door.

The road from New York to Hudson Valley is long. We take a taxi, then a train, and finally walk.

The scenery changes from big city to simple countryside, and my shoes get muddy.

I ask the butler, "How long will it take?"

"We are almost there."

I have no idea how long "almost" is, so I angrily shake off the mud.

The butler frowns and stops me, "Count to fifty and we'll arrive."

I can't even count to fifty; I can only count to thirty.

So, I ask the butler again, "How do I know if she's really my mom when I see her?"

"She has a scar on her belly. That's where you were born," the butler says.

I don't know why, But I suddenly feel a little sad.

We reach the end of a country road, and a shabby gray house comes into view.

There's a small courtyard in front of the house, and a woman is watering the vegetables.

"That's your mom," We stand behind a row of trees, and the butler points her out to me. "Go ahead."

"Aren't you going with me?" I ask.

"She only wants to see you," the butler says.

I'm usually very brave, climbing trees, catching bugs, and even getting into fights at kindergarten (they started it by saying I didn't have a mom), but when the butler says I should go over and find her by myself, my heart suddenly races.

What should I say?

Or should I ask first why hasn't she come to see me all these years?

The woman finishes watering the plants and goes back inside.

"What if she doesn't recognize me?" I kick a small pebble with my shoe.

"Impossible. You look exactly like your dad," the butler's tone is very certain.

I kick the pebble away.

"Are you afraid?" He asks.

I fall silent.

"Then let's see what she's doing today and follow her secretly from behind," he suggests.

I nod.

She soon set out for the market. Instead of picking out anything fresh, she wanders the discount section and ends up buying some baby onions.

Then she passes by the fruit stand and buys oranges and strawberries.

She pays in cash throughout her shopping trip and accidentally drops a coin into a crack in the sidewalk, taking a long time to pick it up and hand it to the vendor.

"Doesn't she have a phone?" I ask the butler on our way back.

She's too old-fashioned. Even our classmates use phones for Google Pay to buy lollipops.

the butler shakes his head. "She doesn't use a phone."

"Why?" I inquire.

"In the modern society, electronic devices can easily leave traces," he explains.

I don't seem to understand.

"Then how do you know she's here? Who told you?"

The butler stays silent for two seconds, then suddenly picks me up. "Someone's coming," he says, then hides with me behind a big tree.

It's her neighbor, knocking on my mother's door with a stack of magazines and DVDs .

She opens it. And a few minutes later, the neighbor comes out with a bag of bread.

Did my mom make the bread herself?

Apparently unsatisfied, she catches up with the neighbor and stuffs two oranges into her pockets. The neighbor can't refuse.

The butler checks his watch, "If you don't go in now, it'll be dark soon."

I take a step forward, then stop. "What if she doesn't let me in?"

"Then keep knocking on the door."

"What about you?"

"I'll be here watching you. If she really doesn't let you in, I'll carry you home."

"Deal," I extend my fist and bump it against the butler's fist.

Then I sling my backpack over my shoulder and stride toward the old door, knocking hard.

"Did you forget something?" Clara shouts from inside, as if talking to her neighbor.

I continue knocking.

Her footsteps gradually approach, and then the door opens, and she widens her eyes.

What happens next makes me angry.

Just as I'm about to step inside, she suddenly slams the door shut, as if I'm a monster.

I knock hard, but she ignores me.

I kick the door, she still ignores me.

It's a bit cold outside, and my feet hurt.

But I don't want to go back with the butler. I start crying loudly.

The door opened.