---- Chapter 10 Hector Porter POV: The world stopped. Every person in the room-me, the nurses, Helene-froze, staring at the small, hysterical boy in the hospital bed. His words echoed in the sudden, ringing silence. | want Almeda. Helene looked as if she' d been struck. Her face, a carefully constructed mask of maternal love, crumpled into confusion and hurt. "Jacob, sweetie, it's me. It's Helene." "Go away!" he screamed, throwing a pillow at her. "You're a fake! You're a monster! You tried to poison me! | want Almeda!" The nurses looked at me, their expressions a mixture of pity and professional urgency. My son was in distress, and his father was failing him. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic, desperate rhythm. | had spent six years trying to erase Almeda, to treat her as a placeholder, a necessity. And in his moment of deepest terror, my son was crying out her name. My hand moved on its own, my fingers fumbling for my phone. | scrolled through my contacts, my thumb hovering over a ---- name | thought |' d never willingly call again. Almeda Hughes. | pressed the call button. It rang once, twice, a third time. | was about to give up when she answered. "Hello?" Her voice was thick with sleep, soft and groggy. It was the most beautiful sound | had ever heard. For a moment, | couldn't speak. A tidal wave of emotions- regret, desperation, and a longing so profound it felt like a physical ache-crashed over me. "Almeda," | finally managed, my voice rough. There was a pause on the other end. Then, Jacob, hearing her voice even through the phone, let out a desperate sob. "Almeda! It's me, Jacob! I'm scared!" His cries quieted instantly, his frantic thrashing ceasing. He was listening, straining to hear her voice. "Hector? What's going on? Is Jacob okay?" Her voice was sharp now, awake and alert. The concern in it was real, immediate. "He... he had an allergic reaction," | stammered, hating the weakness in my own voice. "We're at the hospital. There's a storm, the sirens... he's having a panic attack. He's asking for you. Please, can you just... talk to him?" ---- Another silence stretched between us, this one colder, heavier. When she spoke again, her voice was laced with an icy disdain that chilled me to the bone. "He's asking for me? That's new. The last | recall, he told me he hated me and wished | would disappear forever. Did he forget to tell you that part?" "Please, Almeda," | begged, sacrificing the last of my pride. "He's just a child. He's terrified." Jacob, hearing her rejection, began to wail again. "No, Almeda, don't go! I'm sorry! I'm sorry | was bad! Please don't leave me!" His apology, so raw and desperate, seemed to break through her armor. | heard her take a shaky breath. "He's scared of the sirens," she said, more to herself than to me. "And the thunder." "Yes," | said, seizing the opening. "He won't let any of us near him. He just keeps calling for you." | held the phone out towards Jacob. He grabbed it with trembling hands, pressing it to his ear like a lifeline. "Almeda?" he whispered. "Are you there?" The line was silent for a long moment. | held my breath. Then, her voice came, cold and clear. "I'm here, Jacob. But I'm not your mommy. You made that very clear. You have Helene ---- now. Let her comfort you." 1 With that, | heard a click. She had hung up. | tried to call back, but it went straight to voicemail. She had turned off her phone. The hope that had flickered to life in the room died. Jacob stared at the silent phone in his hand, his small face a mask of utter devastation. A single tear rolled down his cheek, then another. He didn't scream or cry out. He just curled into a tight ball, a silent, heartbreaking picture of abandonment His condition worsened over the next hour. His heart rate became erratic. The doctor, a grim-faced man with tired eyes, returned with a syringe. "We have no choice," he said. "We have to sedate him." As they administered the drug, Jacob's eyes fluttered shut. But even in his medicated sleep, he whispered one last word. "Almeda." +