Damian was a frail child from birth.

He was born early into the hands of a midwife from the slums, and the moment the umbilical cord was cut, he suffered from all kinds of illnesses. 

If he grew up in a decent home with proper food and care, he wouldn’t have to experience any of this.

Every time the child coughed, Rowena felt as if her heart would burst open.

“‘I see you’re taking your medicine regularly. Your fever and coughs are much better now.”

The doctor, who had removed his stethoscope gently, made a friendly diagnosis.

“Thank you, doctor.”

Rowena patted her chest silently. Damian, who had no idea what his mother was feeling, shoved himself into Rowena’s chest as if he were glued to her.

“Mother. Can you buy me a toy because I took my medicine well and listened to you?”

Anticipation crept into his face as he asked innocently. 

Rowena stroked his dark hair instead of answering.

“‘I’ll buy you a nice Christmas present; it’s just around the corner.”

“Yay!”

Although it might be challenging to keep such a promise, Rowena thought she could work a few more evenings and start a second job. The only reason she had been able to hold on so far was thanks to the money she had in her bag. However, she had no idea when she had actually packed it away to take with her.

It was thanks to the man who taught her the mentality of not taking money along when travelling.

Swallowing the memories of the past down her throat, Rowena stood up, holding Damian’s hand.

“Then I’ll go now.”

“Oh, wait a minute.”

The doctor stopped Rowena as she was about to leave, pulled a candy from his robe pocket, and handed it to Damien. Rowena’s eyes met her son’s as he looked up at her for permission, and she looked at him again.

The doctor opened his mouth with a look of genuine pity.

“My nephew is about the same age as Damian.”

“…….”

“That’s why I’m giving it to him.”

Actually, that wasn’t all. Philip began to secretly look after the poor-looking woman in front of him ever since the day she first visited the clinic.

At first, it was for her good looks, but then he slowly immersed himself in her kind eyes and voice for her son and the pitiful sense of sadness hidden within them.

Damien was her son from a wealthy man who had died five years ago in an accident, from what he heard. She seemed to have settled down after wandering around here and there in the last few months. He recalls how the talkative ladies would cluck their tongues at her.

The more he looked at her, the more interested he became. A corner of his mind knew that this was not the way to go, but he was helplessly attracted.

Rowena alternated her gaze between her son and Philip, but inwardly she let out a small sigh.

“Damian, you should say ‘thank you to Dr. Philip.”

“Thank you!”

Damian, who smiled broadly when she had granted him permission, thanked Philip politely.

As he handed over the candy, Phillip was struck by the sight of the child’s father on Damian’s face.

White and smooth skin like cold marble, dark hair like pitch black. Icey, pale, transparent eyes.

His mother was nowhere near her son in appearance. While standing beside the woman before him, he could not compare them.

“You’re welcome.”

Rowena, holding the child’s hand, bowed her head in farewell. And Philip, who was reaching out to her back, slowly lowered his arm at the sound of the door closing.

The guests continued coming after that. Trying to forget about her, he called out the next patient’s name, but a nurse knocked on the door.

“Doctor.”

“What’s wrong?”

“A man came and asked for you. He said something about looking for someone.”

Not many people came to these remote cities looking for people. Curiously, Philip left the examination room, only to be met by a frightened nurse. The usually crowded waiting area was now empty with no soul to be seen.

“Hey, what’s going on?”

Something was wrong with the atmosphere in the clinic…