After my husband Lincoln Taylor’s unexpected death, I didn’t return to my parents’ home or remarry. Instead, I devoted myself to caring for Lincoln’s parents, Landon Taylor and Ariana Taylor, as well as his brother Weston Taylor’s pregnant wife, Sofia Taylor. However, six months later, I overheard the heavily pregnant Sofia asking Weston, “Will you really treat the child in my belly as your own son?” Just as I stood there confused, Weston earnestly promised, “Don’t worry. Since I’ve taken over Weston’s identity, his child is naturally my child.” Hearing his words, I froze, standing stunned outside the door. It turned out that the one who had died in the accident wasn’t my husband Lincoln at all, but his twin brother Weston. Thinking about all the suffering I’d endured these past six months while Lincoln was with another woman, I felt like a complete fool. That very night, I called my college professor Leonardo Paterson and said, “Mr. Paterson, I’m willing to join the Western Infrastructure Construction Projects.” Six months ago, my husband Lincoln died in an accident. My parents had repeatedly tried to convince me to come home so they could help me find a good man. But every time, I firmly refused their advice without hesitation. Looking at Lincoln’s smiling face in the memorial photo, through countless nights of tears when I could barely hold on, I gritted my teeth and refused to give up. Lincoln and I had promised each other we’d be together for life, and I’d only ever acknowledge him as my husband in this lifetime. Even though the neighbors and Landon and Ariana all blamed me for being a jinx who caused Lincoln’s death, I stubbornly stayed with my four-year-old daughter Eleanor Taylor, guarding the little home we once shared. After working several consecutive overtime shifts at the factory, I dragged my exhausted body back to the courtyard where our family lived. But through the wall, I saw Weston and Sofia having some kind of heated discussion. Since I was standing at the corner, they hadn’t noticed me. Sofia was already 36 weeks pregnant. She caressed her belly, her voice full of coquettish concern: “Honey, will you really treat the child in my belly as your own son?” Hearing Sofia’s words, I was puzzled, thinking to myself, “Isn’t the child in her belly Weston’s biological son?” But Weston’s voice quickly responded: “Don’t worry. Since I’ve taken over Weston’s identity, his child is naturally my child. Sofia, I promise you, I’ll be good to you and the child for the rest of my life.” Hearing his words, I was stunned and deeply shocked. In the courtyard, Lincoln continued to pour out his love to Sofia with deep affection. From his words, I pieced together the truth from six months ago. It turned out that the one who had the accident wasn’t Lincoln at all, but his brother Weston. Seeing Sofia, who had just found out she was eight weeks pregnant, Lincoln couldn’t bear to see her without a man’s protection, so he chose to lie to everyone and successfully took over Weston’s identity. Before marrying Lincoln, I already knew that Sofia was the woman he’d liked in his youth. Later, when Lincoln went away to college, Sofia ended up with Weston, who had stayed local. Back then, after learning about this history, I didn’t take it to heart. After all, Lincoln had repeatedly assured me that he and Sofia only shared childhood friendship. But I never expected that Lincoln, that bastard, would actually covet his brother’s wife. He couldn’t bear to see Sofia being bullied. But during these six months, bearing the reputation of having caused Lincoln’s death, I was so ashamed I barely dared to leave the house. People at the factory all said I was a jinx who not only caused Lincoln’s death but also only gave him a daughter, failing to continue his bloodline. Eleanor was ostracized at school by classmates who said she was a child without a father. Yet Lincoln only cared about tenderly and carefully looking after Sofia, letting Eleanor and me be humiliated and degraded. All those beautiful memories that had supported me in remaining loyal to Lincoln even after his death completely shattered in that moment. I bit down hard on my arm, afraid of making even the slightest whimper. Only after hearing Sofia and Lincoln go inside did I drag my numb legs like a ghost and push open the door to what had once been our little home. However, as soon as I entered, I heard a loud crash. Then came the sound of an aluminum basin hitting the floor.
Hearing that voice snapped me back to reality. Realizing Eleanor was home alone, I immediately panicked and ran toward the sound. In the backyard, Eleanor stood by the well, soaking wet and staring helplessly at her torn clothes. “Eleanor!” I rushed over to her. “Why are you completely soaked?” Seeing me suddenly return, Eleanor instinctively pulled her hands into her sleeves. Sensing she was hiding something from me, I grabbed her hand directly. When I saw her once-delicate little hands now purple from the cold, I looked at Eleanor with heartbreak. “What happened? Tell me. Did someone hurt you?” Eleanor had originally tried to act like nothing had happened, but after hearing my question, she suddenly burst into tears. Between sobs, Eleanor told me: “While you were away these past few days, Aunt wouldn’t let me eat. She said I could only get food if I washed her clothes and cleaned the house.” Only then did I notice that Eleanor’s hands weren’t just red and swollen from being soaked in cold water during the winter—her palms also had several small, fine cuts, clearly from being scratched by the bristles of a broom. So this was how Sofia had been treating Eleanor while I was away. I trembled with rage. But remembering the truth I’d just overheard, I still held onto a sliver of hope. I asked Eleanor: “When you saw your aunt treating you this way, didn’t your uncle do anything?” Eleanor shook her head. As if remembering something, she said even more sadly: “Uncle thinks I’m too clumsy and always make Aunt angry. When Aunt scolds me, Uncle just tells me to get out.” Hearing Eleanor’s words, my heart ached as if it were being crushed by invisible hands. “Mommy, he’s not Daddy anymore, and he’s not Uncle anymore either.” Eleanor’s sudden words immediately pulled my thoughts back to half a year ago. That day, I had just learned about Lincoln’s accident. Looking at his mangled body, I cried so hard I couldn’t speak. But four-year-old Eleanor kept calling out “Daddy” to Lincoln, who had already assumed Weston’s identity. At that time, in front of everyone, Lincoln pulled Eleanor to the body covered with a white sheet and said: “Eleanor, your father is dead. As his only daughter, you should say goodbye to your father.” But no matter how much he denied it, during that period, Eleanor kept calling him Daddy. Until one day, after Eleanor once again called him Daddy at the dinner table, Sofia slammed her fork down hard on the table. Then she glared at me angrily: “Victoria Cameron, your husband is dead, so you’re having Eleanor call my husband Daddy. Are you trying to get my husband to take care of you two? How can someone like you deserve to be a college graduate? Your husband just died, and you’re already this eager to find another man?” And Lincoln became cold, warning us with an unfriendly tone: “Out of respect for Lincoln, I still respect you. But if you dare have any other intentions, I’ll definitely kick you both out.” After that, Eleanor never called Lincoln Daddy again. The real Weston had watched Eleanor grow up and had always been especially good to her since she was little. Landon and Ariana looked down on Eleanor for being a girl, but Weston had never hurt Eleanor. Yet in just half a year, in Eleanor’s eyes, her uncle had become like a completely different person. That’s why she said Lincoln wasn’t Daddy and wasn’t Uncle anymore either. I once asked Eleanor: “Why did you call your uncle Daddy?” Eleanor couldn’t explain why, but she was absolutely certain he was her father. Perhaps this was what they call the blood connection between father and daughter. Unfortunately, the father Eleanor missed so much already had a new family. He could even coldly watch as Sofia tormented her. Looking at Eleanor shivering from the cold, I finally made up my mind. I said: “Eleanor, would you like to leave this place with me? I’ll take you somewhere that’s not as comfortable, but where there are many kind adults. Would you come with me?” Eleanor didn’t know where I was talking about, but she nodded without hesitation: “As long as I can be with Mommy, I’ll go anywhere.” Ever since Lincoln faked his death, the state-owned factory that caused the accident arranged an accounting job for me as compensation. Except for year-end, accountants usually had very relaxed schedules, but the salary was low. This made Landon and Ariana, who already had issues with me, even more dissatisfied. They said I was incompetent, that when Lincoln was alive I depended on him for support, and now that Lincoln was dead I was depending on them. But what Landon and Ariana didn’t know was that as a 1990s architecture undergraduate, I could have had excellent career prospects. If I hadn’t accidentally gotten pregnant with Eleanor, I wouldn’t have willingly stayed home to care for my child and husband. After making up my mind, I dialed a phone number. Hearing Leonardo’s familiar voice on the other end, I couldn’t help but tear up: “Mr. Paterson, I regret my decision. Do I still have a chance to join the Western Infrastructure Development Project?” Back then, when my college professor Leonardo learned I was giving up my career to marry and have children, he was deeply disappointed. Now hearing that I had changed my mind and was even willing to participate in the most challenging Western Infrastructure Development Project, Leonardo was thrilled. He said: “You were the pride of our department. Now that you’re willing to come back, I certainly welcome you. It’s just that this project has a very long timeline—you’ll need to discuss it with your family.” After hearing his words, I said without hesitation: “Mr. Paterson, I’m widowed now. As long as you allow me to bring my daughter, I’ll definitely report on time.”
After receiving my confirmation, Leonardo told me that a car would pick me up in three days to meet up with them. Seeing me finish the call, Eleanor asked expectantly, “Mommy, can we go to that place you mentioned?” Looking at her hopeful expression, I smiled and gently stroked her head. The prickly sensation under my palm suddenly made me realize that Eleanor shouldn’t look like this. Because Eleanor was a girl, ever since she was born, Landon and Ariana had always treated us mother and daughter terribly. Even Lincoln’s colleagues mocked him for not having a son. So Lincoln told me to raise Eleanor as a boy, thinking this might cause Landon and Ariana to give us less trouble. At the time, I truly believed his words, thinking that this way Eleanor and I wouldn’t be bullied. So from then on, Eleanor had her hair cut short and wore boys’ clothes. Lincoln always said this was for my sake, claiming it was all because Landon and Ariana didn’t like girls but preferred boys. But now, thinking it over carefully, I realized that Lincoln was actually the one who resented Eleanor the most for not being a son. With this thought, I took Eleanor’s hand and headed toward the street. Eleanor instinctively asked, “Mommy, are you taking me to get a haircut?” Hearing her words, I felt my nose sting with emotion. Then I said firmly to Eleanor, “Eleanor, from now on, if you don’t want to cut your hair short, then don’t. Eleanor, you should be a little princess.” I took Eleanor to a clothing store on the street and bought her several dresses. When she saw herself wearing a dress in the mirror, the joy in Eleanor’s eyes was almost overflowing. When I brought Eleanor home looking like this, everyone at the dinner table was stunned. Ariana was the first to scold me: “You spendthrift! Do you have money to burn? You’re actually buying clothes for a girl? If you have money, why don’t you use it to support Sofia? She’s carrying the Taylor family’s grandson!” In the past, faced with Ariana’s harassment, I would never have argued back for Lincoln’s sake. But this time, I didn’t back down at all. “This is my salary. What’s wrong with spending my money on my daughter? Since Sofia is carrying the Taylor family’s grandson, why don’t you use your own money to support her?” Perhaps sensing that I seemed like a different person today, Ariana, who had always bullied us because of our weakness, finally fell silent. Noticing the awkward atmosphere, Lincoln cleared his throat and said, “Mom just isn’t used to Eleanor looking like this. After all, she’s always looked like a boy before. Victoria, after Lincoln died, didn’t you always dress Eleanor as a boy?” Back when Lincoln faked his death, I often dressed Eleanor as a boy, as if this could deceive myself that nothing had changed and Lincoln was still there. Seeing the probing look in Lincoln’s eyes, I sighed and said, “The dead can’t come back to life. Lincoln is dead, but I’m still alive. Eleanor and I naturally have to move forward. “Ariana was right before. As a widowed woman, I can’t stay in your house forever. I’ll take Eleanor and leave in a couple of days. Perfect timing—I can have my mom help me find another man.” Hearing my words, Lincoln’s face turned ugly. He suddenly raised his voice. “How can you remarry?” After realizing he’d gotten too emotional, Lincoln quickly explained, “Victoria, don’t make impulsive decisions because of what my mom said. Eleanor likes dresses, right? From now on, I’ll buy you dresses too, okay?” However, Eleanor said directly, “No need, Uncle. When I have a new daddy, my new daddy will buy them for me.” A child’s sincere words cut the deepest. Noticing Lincoln’s smile freeze instantly, I felt incredibly satisfied, as if I’d gotten my revenge on him. However, the next day, as I began packing my luggage, my bedroom door was quietly cracked open. Then someone suddenly appeared behind me. “What are you doing?”
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