"Mom..."

Her mind jerked awake, but her body remained in slumber. Her eyes stayed shut, wondering if she was dreaming.

Then, there it was again. It was as if someone was calling to her. Faint, but she heard it.

"Mom, where are you?"

The tone was so sweet, like an angel, singing in her ears. Gradually, she opened her eyes, looking for the source of that innocent, melodious voice.

In a not-so-far distance, there he was, standing in the corner.

A little boy.

"Mom, is that you?" He spoke again. This time, he reached out his hand to her, but he didn’t step forward or make any other move.

Immediately, she jumped out of the bed and ran to him.

That was her little boy.

Her son.

He’s alive.

"Mom."

Excitement coursed through her veins as she heard his voice again, clearer this time. He was so near, almost within her reach.

She extended her arms on both sides. Overjoyed, she kept running, wanting to hug his little body in the warmth of her embrace.

"I’m coming, my darling."

But something was wrong. The faster she ran, the more he stayed away. It was as if no matter what she did, she just couldn’t reach him.

"Mom..." He called out to her again, sounding more and more desperate.

Again, she tried to stretch her hands as far as they would go, but still, he was too far away.

Until his image began to slowly fade. His feet were the first to disappear, then his outstretched arms gradually vanished in the air.

Just when the last trace of him was about to disperse into nothing, she saw him. His face. Much more discernible this time.

"Caleb...?" She whispered, but it was gone before she could utter another word.

Tears began flooding her face as the thought that she had lost him forever.

Her son.

Again.

"Sophia?"

A cold hand tapped her on the cheek, rousing her out of her troubled slumber. Slowly, she opened her eyes, feeling the prickling needles that were stabbing her neck and shoulder.

"Ashley..." She greeted her friend, seeing her standing beside her with a worried look on her face. "I must have dozed off."

Gradually, she stretched her body until she could sit comfortably again. After lying on her arms on the edge of Caleb’s bed, her body had stiffened, cramping her muscles.

"Are you alright?" Her friend suddenly extended her hand, letting her fingers wipe a tear underneath her eyes.

"What?" She was surprised, not realizing that tears stained her cheek. She must have been crying in her sleep.

"Of course, I am. It must be a bad dream." She explained, pretending that she didn’t remember any of it.

Besides, why would she be upset?

Her eyes automatically went to the young boy who was silently sleeping. His face was still pale, but the doctors said that Caleb was doing great. The surgery was a great success.

"If things go well, we are expecting a fast recovery."

Although he still looked thin and small for his age, the doctors assured them that after his rehabilitation, he would be able to catch up with his peers.

Finally, he would get to live a normal life.

Of course, that was every mother’s dream for their child.

Suddenly, she thought of her dream. Out of the blue, she wished Caleb were really her child. She probably would be the happiest and luckiest person alive.

Her hand instinctively smoothed the hair that crowded on Caleb’s forehead, wanting to see clearly his entire face.

Her lips trembled into a frown as her heart ached for her dead son. But it quickly curved into a smile as she thought of this wonderful boy who wanted her so much to be his mother.

"We are perfect for each other." Maybe that was why fate crossed their path at that hospital.

She hopelessly longed for a son, while he desperately yearned for a mother.

"Okay..."

"Hey..." Then, a hand was waving on her face. "Are you still dreaming?" Her friend asked.

Quickly, she snapped away from her trance and looked at her friend. Then, her eyes wandered to the wall, checking the time on the clock hanging by the door.

"What are you doing here?" She asked, ignoring her friend’s question. Instead, she stared at her friend for answers. "It’s late."

Her friend didn’t answer her right away. Rather, she went straight to the mini fridge, which was stocked with drinks and snacks.

"First, I’m starving. I have been up all day. Those bitches just wouldn’t shut up. They spread their legs and started complaining about how hard it was to give birth."

Her friend muttered, ranting all her frustrations with a can of cold, refreshing soda and a bag of chips that she took from the supply cabinet.

Again, this room was not a hospital ward, but an expensive hotel suite. It had everything that money could buy to make their stay luxurious and in style.

"Go ahead, help yourself." She said, watching her friend munch on those crispy chips with gusto.

While waiting for her friend, she grabbed Caleb’s hand and gently massaged his fingers. She just wanted to be close to him. Make him feel that he wasn’t alone. That she was there for him.

Drinking the last drop of the soda and dumping the remaining chips into her mouth, she threw the empty can and foil into the bin and finally turned to her. "That’s better." She said while licking her fingers clean.

"How’s Caleb?" Ashley finally asked, but she was already checking on his chart as she spoke.

"The doctors said that he would be ok." There was no need to explain further because she knew her friend would know everything once she finished studying Caleb’s record.

"Yeah," Ashley agreed. Then, she finally placed the chart back into the counter. "He is going to be ok."

Just like her, Ashley took Caleb’s other arm and gently checked his wrist. "His pulse is beating stronger." She commented.

"But, are you sure you’re ok? Just a few minutes ago..." Her friend still looked concerned, probably because she found her crying.

"I’m fine. As I said, it is just a bad dream." She quickly dismissed it. She believed it was not worth talking about. Her friend would just get worried about something so trivial.

"Now, are you here just because you’re hungry and bored?" She changed the topic, hoping her friend would finally drop the subject.

However, she was aware that Dr. Bennett was doing a double shift because one of her colleagues had to take a leave.

"Okay!" Ultimately, Ashley gave up. "If you’re absolutely sure you’re fine..." She paused for a second, then breathed heavily, as if she was expelling something out of her system.

"What is it?" At that point, she knew that her friend didn’t come for a friendly visit.

Ashley had yet to say something, but her eyes already told her that it was something important.

Whatever it was. It was big. Intense. Explosive.

For a second, she braced herself for the impact.

"It’s about your son." That was it. She believed she had forgotten how to breathe.

At that instant, she knew it had something to do with the DNA test. It was written on her friend’s face even if she hadn’t said it out loud.

The answer was only two choices.

Simple.

He is or is not her son.

The boy that she buried six years ago.

"Breathe..." Ashley suddenly said as she held her hand.

As if a balloon that was deflated, air gushed out of her lips and nose in a sudden burst. Then, she gasped for air to fill her lungs again.

When her friend finally felt that she had calmed down, she pulled out the folded, sealed envelope from her white jacket and handed it to her.

"Why don’t you read it yourself?" Her friend placed it on her shaking hand.

For a few seconds, she just stared at it, afraid. No, terrified.

Would it have the answers she wanted? Or would it only break her heart more?

Whether her son was alive or not? Would she find it comforting to know the truth?

"Do you mind if you leave. I just want to be alone for now." She knew her friend was also dying to know the result, but this once, she didn’t want an audience.

Reluctantly, Ashley nodded, clearly understanding her situation. Then, she walked away, leaving her alone in the room.

For a few minutes, she just stared silently at the unopened envelope, not knowing what she was hoping for. But no matter what the result would be, she knew it would still hurt as hell.

With the strength of a mother who was willing to do anything for her child, she opened it and slowly read the report.

Everything else was a jargon mess until she reached the bottom of the page.

As if the wind was knocked out of her lungs this time, she struggled to breathe.

"No!" She mumbled in a desperate cry.

Eventually, she felt like her heart was gutted out of her chest, as she finally saw the truth.

"My poor child." Again, a louder sob escaped her lips as she crumpled the paper in her hand.

But then, she saw the young boy who was still peacefully resting on the bed. Of course, she didn’t want to wake him up with her whining.

Immediately, she stood up and strode toward the door. She ran out of the room, despite the tears that were pouring down her cheeks.

With blurry vision, she didn’t see what was coming.

Boom!

"Ugh!"

"Aah!"

"Ouch!"

A solid wall just blocked her path, making her fall backward. But before she completely skidded to the floor, strong arms held her tightly.

"Easy." Worried voice echoed in her muddled brain. "What’s the rush? Did something happen?" Panic followed.

But she could barely breathe, much less speak, as her lips trembled uncontrollably. Then, the paper in hand finally slipped and fell on the floor.

"What’s that?"