A Journey from Bitterness to Truth

Gideon’s call came as a lightning bolt from the blue, his voice tense as he explained he hadn’t picked up Logan from preschool. The principal had seen someone take him – and it was undoubtedly Yvan.

Matilda rolled out of bed in a panic, her movements erratic as she yanked open the drawer and shoved the pills, long neglected, down her throat. She gagged, forcing the bitter tablets down her dry throat, then wiped away the tears that had stained her cheeks and stood up with a new

resolve.

Her eyes, tinged with red from crying, blazed with unmistakable hatred. Her hands trembled as she clutched the fabric over her heart.

“It’s okay. Don’t be scared. Yvan, you’ve taken everything from me, and now I’ll fight you with everything I’ve got!” She told herself.

Logan had been whisked away by Yvan at three o’clock, taken directly to the grand Boyd

estate.

Violet, Yvan’s mother, was taken aback the moment she laid eyes on Logan.

The old woman murmured through her tears. “Are you… are you a Boyd?”

Logan remained silent.

Violet’s sadness seemed genuine, but he had no desire to engage.

“Who are your parents?”

“My mother’s identity is of no consequence to you.” Logan’s smile held a precocious edge. “Who my father is doesn’t matter to me either.”

Yvan, having just parked his car, overheard Logan and kicked the door in frustration. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Logan replied simply, “Exactly what I said.”

Violet could sense the boy’s deep resentment, especially towards ‘the Boyds, and didn’t dare to embrace him. She just watched him, asking, “Is your mother… doing well?”

Logan’s smile was saccharine. “Well, she’s been dining courtesy of the government, so she’s got no worries about food and clothing.”

Yvan, upon hearing this, flew into a rage, grabbing Logan and lifting him. “Where did you learn to speak with such spite?”

He sneered. “Did Matilda teach you to talk like that, huh?” Exclusive content © by Nô(v)el/Dr/ama.Org.

Logan, fearless, retorted, “Who taught me? Everyone around me says the same thing. That my mom’s been to jail, that she’s a murderer. You said as much yourself in front of her just yesterday.”

12:05

Yvan felt a pang in his chest and set Louan down roughly, his words seething through clenched teeth. “Did you learn from your mother how to be a thorn in my side?”

“If you don’t like me, send me back.” Louan looked straight at him. “You may want to use me to threaten my mother, but all it does is make us hate you more,”

That word–hate–hung in the air, an admission that their loathing had seeped into their very bones, becoming habitual.

Whenever Yvan was around. Matilda was a nervous wreck, desperate to flee. That’s why she moved from Sea City to Sapphire City five years ago just to escape him!

Yvan, not understanding why he was so infuriated, smashed things around the room.

Violet followed, begging, “Yvan, please stop breaking things…”

Yvan just snorted and stormed upstairs.

Logan remained seated on the couch, his expression stolc.

Father and son, both angry, mirrored each other perfectly.

Violet called the staff to clean up and sat next to Logan, her voice filled with concern, “Did that scare you?”

Logan shook his head. “No.”

But his reddened eyes betrayed his shock.

“What’s your name, dear?” Violet felt drawn to the boy and wanted to know more about him.

“Thompson,” he said, looking at her, “Logan Thompson, like my mother.”

Violet dared not ask about Matilda’s well–being, but since Logan brought it up, she continued cautiously. “Your mother…”

“There’s no need for you to worry about my mother, Madam.”

At just five years old, Logan spoke with a wisdom and distance far beyond his years. It seemed. unlikely that warmth would ever grow between them.

Violet tried to find the right words. “Logan, about your parents…”

“No need to tell me. I know,” Logan cut her off. “People say my mother got what she deserved, that she’s a killer. I understand. We got what we deserved.”

Those words, damning himself to hell, caused even Violet’s heart to ache.

This child had learned to hate them..

Logan didn’t care that his words had hurt the old woman. He turned to gaze out the window.

The night was heavy, the dawn invisible.