Snow Illuminates the Coming Year

On the day Emily was buried, her child appeared in my studio in the afternoon.

“Mom said that if she’s gone, I should come find you. You know my mom, right?”

Those clear eyes were exactly like Emily’s and they hurt my eyes to look at.

But just as I was about to coldly push him away, my eyes fell on the small birthmark behind his ear—a red heart, in the exact same spot as my son, born ten years ago and gone after only three days.

A thought so absurd that it made me tremble ran through my mind.

My vision blurred and I gripped the door frame to steady myself.

“W-what’s your name?”

——

“Arson Grant.”

The child’s voice was soft, carrying a faint, almost hidden fear.

Grand.

The same “Grant” as Harry Grant.

The scar on my chest, long since healed, felt torn open again, as if bleeding fresh.

Ten years ago, I, Millie Summers, was the legitimate daughter of the Grant Family.

Emily was my husband’s first love, the one he had always secretly cherished.

My son was born, but just three days later, the doctor declared him dead from a sudden infection.

That day, my husband, Harry, wasn’t even by my side.

It was his mother, Linda Quinn, who coldly handled everything.

She didn’t even let me see my child one last time, saying she was afraid I would be too heartbroken.

Not long after, exhausted in body and mind, I signed the divorce papers, letting Harry be with his first love.

I always thought it was Emily’s existence that indirectly caused my child’s death and she ruined everything I had.

That’s why I hated her.

But now, her “son,” with the same birthmark as my own child, appeared in front of me.

At that moment, my hatred was drowned in a mix of absurdity and fear.

I turned to the side, my voice hoarse. “Come in.”

The studio was a mess, with paints and brushes scattered all over the floor.

In these ten years, I had lived like a lonely island.

Arson was very quiet in a way that didn’t seem like a child.

He carried a small, faded backpack and stood nervously at the doorway, not daring to step inside.

“Sit.” I pointed to the only clean sofa.

He shuffled over in small steps and sat down, gripping the straps of his backpack tightly.

I suppressed the storm inside me and stared hard at the red birthmark behind his ear.

It was too much like my own child.

No—it was exactly the same.

Even in the exact same position.

“How did your mother… die?” I lit a cigarette, but my hands were shaking badly.

Arson looked at me, a bit confused, as if he was trying to understand my question.

He was slow to respond and after a few seconds he whispered, “Mom… fell asleep. The police said Mom fell asleep while driving.”

A car accident.

I took a deep drag of my cigarette, but the harsh smoke made me cough.

Arson jumped at the sound, shrinking back.

The scared, startled look on his face stabbed my heart in a way I couldn’t explain.

“How old are you, kid?”

He thought for a moment. “Nine… almost ten.”

The timing matched.

My heart felt as if an invisible hand was squeezing it, making it hard to breathe.

“Where’s your dad? Why didn’t he come to pick you up?”

At the mention of his father, Arson’s eyes darkened and his head dropped even lower.

“Dad… is very busy.”

The same excuse.

Exactly like Harry ten years ago.

I put out my cigarette and walked back and forth in the studio, feeling irritated.

Something was wrong. Everything felt wrong.

If Arson was really the son of Emily and Harry, why didn’t Harry come to take him immediately after her death?

Why let him go alone, following Emily’s last wish to find me, his “enemy”?

It didn’t make sense.

Unless… unless Harry didn’t know either, or he was being kept in the dark too.

I walked over to Arson and crouched down. “What’s in your backpack? Let me see.”

He hesitated for a moment, then obediently took it off.

I unzipped it. Inside, besides a few sketchbooks and a worn Ultraman toy, there was a white pill bottle.

It had no label—like some unregulated product.

“What’s this?”

“Grandma gave me smart pills,” he said softly. “Grandma said I have to take them every day, or I’ll get stupid and Mom won’t like me.”

Grandma?

Linda.

My mind went “buzz.”

A chill ran from my feet straight to the top of my head.

Why would Linda give Emily’s son unknown medicine?

Could it be…

I didn’t dare think any further.

I shoved the pill bottle into my pocket and looked at the boy in front of me. He was so much like Emily, yet carrying Harry’s shadow in his face. My feelings were a tangled mess.

“Tonight, you’ll stay here. And tomorrow, I’ll take you home.”

By “home,” I meant our home.

Arson was obedient to the point of breaking my heart.

When I told him to take a shower, he quietly walked into the bathroom by himself.

A long time passed and I didn’t hear water running. I went to check.

He was standing on his toes, clumsily struggling with the shower that was too high for him.

He didn’t even know how to turn on the hot water.

I sighed and went in to adjust the temperature for him.

As the warm water ran over his thin body, I finally saw it clearly. His arms and back were covered in bruises of all shades.

The bruises looked like they’d been pinched, or maybe hit by something.

New injuries lay on top of old ones.

My hand froze and my chest felt as if a huge stone was pressing down.

“Who did this?”

Arson flinched and hurriedly used his hands to cover the marks, keeping his head down and saying nothing.

“Speak!” My voice grew harsh despite myself.

He shivered at my tone, tears welling in his eyes, but stubbornly refused to let them fall.

“It’s… it’s because I wasn’t good… I made Grandma angry…”

Again… Linda!

That woman always looked elegant and proper in front of me. But behind the scenes, she could do such harm to a child?

Even if Arson wasn’t her biological grandson, he was still Harry’s son.

Even a tiger wouldn’t eat its own cub—how dare she!

I pushed down the anger in my heart, finished giving him a bath and found one of my old T-shirts for him to wear.

The oversized shirt hung over his tiny body, making him look even thinner and more pitiful.

“From now on, don’t ever say you’re bad again.”

I pulled him onto the sofa, took out the first-aid kit and carefully applied ointment to his bruises with a cotton swab.

His body was stiff, completely still as I worked.

“If it hurts, tell me.”

“It doesn’t hurt…” he whispered. “Mom says if she blows on it, it won’t hurt.”

At the mention of Emily, my hand froze.

“She… was good to you?” I asked.

“Mom was the best to me,” Arson’s eyes lit up briefly, then dimmed again. “But Mom was never happy. She would hug me and cry.”

“She also said… I should grow up fast, run fast and not get caught.”

Run?

Caught by who?

My mind was a tangled mess.

Emily’s death, Linda’s abuse, the unknown “smart pills,” and now this warning—“don’t get caught”…

All the clues pointed to a terrifying truth.

Just then, my phone rang.

It was a number I hadn’t contacted in ten years.

Harry.

I went to the balcony and pressed the answer button.

“Millie,” came the tired, hoarse voice on the other end. “Something happened to Emily.”

“I know,” I said coldly. “I saw the news about her.”

“Her son… Arson… is missing. Did she… ever contact you?”

There was a hint of urgency and testing in his voice.

I let out a cold laugh.

“Harry, have you forgotten? We divorced ten years ago. Your love is dead, her son is missing—why would you think I know anything?”

“You ruined my life and now you want me to help you find your son? Do you even deserve it?”

I didn’t hold back, letting my words cut deep.

There was a long silence on the other end, only his heavy breathing remained.

“Millie… I’m sorry…”

“Save your cheap apologies,” I cut him off. “Don’t call me again.”

I hung up immediately.

Back in the living room, Arson was curled up on the sofa, asleep.

Even in his sleep, his brow was tightly furrowed and his small hands unconsciously clutched the edge of his shirt, full of unease.

I looked at the heart-shaped birthmark behind his ear and a part of me completely collapsed.

I grabbed a blanket and gently covered him.

Then, I called my family’s private doctor.

“Mr. Sharl, I have something here. I need you to test it and check what’s inside. Do it as fast as possible. No matter how late it is, tell me the results immediately.”

That night, I didn’t sleep at all.

I stayed by the sofa, watching Arson sleep, while the scenes from the hospital ten years ago replayed over and over in my mind.

The cold hospital room, Linda’s indifferent face and that light, careless death notice.

Everything I had believed so firmly in the past now seemed full of holes.

How many secrets did Emily really hide? Did she give my son back out of guilt, or… was there something else?

Early the next morning, I arranged to meet Vera at a café.

Vera was my former best friend. After my divorce, she was the only one who kept in touch with me.

For ten years, she had been faithfully reporting to me about Harry and Emily’s “happy life.”

“Millie, look at you—you’re still so beautiful, haven’t changed a bit,” Vera said, stirring her coffee with a concerned smile. “On the other hand… the last time I saw Emily, she looked so haggard. I don’t know how Harry is taking care of her.”

I picked up my coffee, hiding the coldness in my eyes. “Really? I thought she was doing fine.”

“Fine?” Vera scoffed, lowering her voice. “You don’t know Linda never approved of her. She thought Emily wasn’t from a good family, that she couldn’t be on the same level. If she hadn’t given birth to Arson, she wouldn’t even be allowed into the Grant Family.”

“But Linda… really dotes on her precious grandson, Arson.”

Vera’s voice was full of envy. “Every day she gets him nutritional supplements and ‘smart pills’ from abroad, personally making sure he takes them. She was afraid the only heir of the Grant Family might be neglected.”

My hand clenched suddenly and the hot coffee spilled on the back of my hand, but I felt nothing.

Smart pills again…

“Now that I think about it, Emily’s accident really is suspicious,” Vera said, as if remembering something, her face full of regret.

“The police said it was due to fatigue, but I heard her car’s brakes might have had a problem. Think about it. She’s not really good at driving, yet late at night, on a mountain road, she was driving so fast… as if she was trying to escape from something. Isn’t that strange?”

Every word Vera said hit my heart like a hammer.

Escape.

Emily was running from Linda.

She knew those pills were dangerous. She wanted to escape with my son.

That’s why Linda created an “accident” to silence her forever.

“Millie? Are you okay?” Vera’s voice pulled me back from my thoughts.

“I’m fine… just remembering some things from the past.” I set down my coffee and took a jewelry box from my bag, pushing it toward her. “Long time no see. This is for you.”

Vera’s eyes lit up and she quickly opened it. Inside was a diamond necklace of considerable value.

“Oh my, Millie, how can I…?” she said politely, but her hands were already taking the necklace out, eager to put it on.

“If you like it, that’s enough,” I said, watching her fake smile with a cold laugh in my heart.

Vera… you better not have been involved. If you were, I would make sure you pay for it twice over.

After leaving the café, I immediately drove to Mr. Sharl’s private clinic.

Arson was sitting quietly in a small play area, stacking blocks. His movements were so slow that he tried several times to place a single block correctly and failed.

Next to him, a smaller child had already built a tall tower.

When the smaller child accidentally knocked over Arson’s blocks, he just stared blankly, showing no reaction. No crying, no fussing, not even a flicker of emotion.

Mr. Sharl called me into his office, his expression grave and handed me a lab report. “Millie, where did you get this pill bottle?”

“From a child,” I said, my heart sinking.

“Nonsense!” Mr. Sharl’s tone was unusually harsh. “This is a psychiatric drug banned in Dalmora years ago! It was used to control serious criminals! Long-term use can severely damage the central nervous system, causing slow reactions, reduced cognition and memory loss! In short, it turns a normal person into an idiot—gradually!”

“How long… has this child been taking it?”

My nails dug into my palms. “Maybe… for many years.”

Mr. Sharl said, shaking his head in pain. “It’s cruel! This is practically murder!”

The office was deathly silent.

I held the thin report in my hands, but it felt like it weighed a thousand pounds.

Linda. You have such a cruel heart. Not only did you steal my son, but you tried to turn him into a wreck with your own hands!

I left the office. When Arson saw me, he immediately stood up, a flicker of hope in his eyes. “Millie…”

I went to him, crouched down and hugged him tightly.

The child of the woman I had despised for ten years… the one I believed was my enemy’s son… it turned out he wasn’t. He was my long-lost treasure—my own son, taken from me, tormented and poisoned for a decade.

“Arson…” My voice choked. “I’m sorry… Mom is late.”

He froze, his small body stiff in my arms.

After a long moment, he reached out a tiny hand and gently patted my back — as if comforting a crying child.

“Millie, don’t cry. Mom says crying makes you not pretty.”

I couldn’t hold back my tears any longer; they poured out.

Emily, thank you. Thank you for protecting him for ten years. Now it was my turn to protect him. I would not let anyone who hurt him go unpunished.