Chapter 2
Six years had passed, and a plane touched down smoothly in Arizona, bringing with it a woman dressed in a simple black outfit and a baseball cap. Her face was partly obscured, but her presence was undeniable—her figure, poised and confident, drew the attention of everyone around her.
What really caught the onlookers’ eyes, though, were the two children accompanying her. A cool-looking boy, wearing dark sunglasses, wheeled a large suitcase behind him. Sitting on top of the suitcase was the adorable Elisa, her tiny fingers carefully counting a handful of coins.
“I made a total of two hundred and sixty dollars!” Elisa announced, beaming with pride as she tucked the money into her small purse. She looked up, excitement lighting her face. “Harry, we can treat Mom and Mia Reed to a fancy dinner tonight!”
Harry, ever the realist, glanced at her coolly. “In Arizona, the minimum cost for a fancy dinner per person is three hundred twenty dollars. If we get a discount, it’ll still be nine hundred sixty dollars for the four of us. Your money isn’t enough.”
Elisa’s face immediately fell, her enthusiasm deflating as she pouted, “When can I get rich? I want to eat fancy dinners every day!”
As they neared the exit, they spotted someone holding up a sign with a name written on it.
“Galatea!” Elisa squinted at the name on the sign, her brows furrowing in confusion as she looked up at the woman beside her. “Mom, that’s you in the photo, isn’t it?”
Galatea Hartley glanced at the sign briefly, her expression unchanged. “Yes, that’s me.”
Indeed, she had adopted the name Galatea now. Stellan had died six years ago, during the delivery. The woman who had once been the heiress of Storm’s Group was now gone, and in her place stood Galatea—a name that symbolized both a new identity and a new life.
The man holding the sign, a greeter from Serenity Heights Medical Center, overheard the conversation and stepped forward eagerly. “You must be Dr. Galatea! It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m here to pick you up from the hospital.”
“Nice to meet you,” Galatea replied, offering a polite nod.
Elisa, still staring at the photo, frowned. “Mom, you look so undernourished in this picture. It doesn’t show off your beauty at all.”
Galatea’s face remained impassive. Since the Storm family’s bankruptcy, she had grown a deep aversion to having her picture taken. The photo Elisa was referring to had been taken shortly after the birth for international records. It wasn’t the best picture, but Galatea had never cared enough to replace it.
“Mom’s a natural beauty,” Harry piped up, patting Elisa on the head. “She looks good no matter what.”
The greeter, smiling warmly at the children, remarked, “Dr. Galatea, your siblings are adorable.”
Galatea smiled softly at the compliment, though she didn’t bother to correct him. She replied politely, “Would you mind waiting a moment? I’ll drop them off and be right back.”
“Of course, take your time, Dr. Galatea,” the greeter responded.
Outside, Mia had been waiting. Once a nanny for the Storm family, Mia was one of the few people who had remained loyal to Galatea after the Storm family’s downfall. She was also the one who had fought for an emergency cesarean during Galatea’s labor, ensuring both Galatea and the twins survived.
Despite the hardships, Mia had been a steady presence in their lives. Galatea couldn’t help but feel a pang of sorrow as she thought about her first child—the child she had lost. Mrs. Marigold had taken him away before she ever had the chance to meet him. In all likelihood, he was gone. The thought still caused her heart to ache.
“Mia!” Harry and Elisa called out in unison, breaking Galatea from her thoughts.
She turned to see Mia, now with silver hair, standing there with a warm smile. “Mia, you’ve had a rough time these past months.”
Mia embraced the children affectionately, her smile bright. “With such well-behaved and adorable kids, how could it be hard? Now go on, Stellan, I’ll take good care of Harry and Elisa.”
“Good luck on your first day at work, Mom,” Elisa said, flashing an enticingly sweet smile. “We’ll wait for you to come home for a yummy dinner.”
After watching Mia drive off with the children, Galatea turned back to the greeter with a soft smile. “Sorry for the wait.”
“No problem at all, Dr. Galatea. Shall we?” he asked, ready to take her to her next destination.
Galatea climbed into the car, her thoughts drifting as they made their way through the city. It had been six years since she’d been back, and the city now felt both familiar and estranged.
Half an hour later, they arrived at Serenity Heights Medical Center.
Inside, Dr. Galen, a distinguished figure in the medical field, was waiting for her. He was reviewing her resume when she entered, standing up immediately. “The resume is impressive, but seeing you in person—well, truly, seeing is believing.”
“You flatter me too much,” Galatea replied modestly.
“Not at all,” Galen insisted. “You left a high-paying position at the American Institute of Medical Research to return here and contribute to our hometown’s healthcare. That’s incredible.”
Galatea felt a pang of guilt at his praise. Her return wasn’t a selfless act of philanthropy. It was personal. This was the hospital where she had given birth, the only place where she might find clues about her lost son.
“Come on, I’ll introduce you to your new colleagues in neurosurgery,” Galen said, leading the way.
The introductions were brief, and Galen ensured Galatea felt comfortable, even arranging a private office for her. They had planned a “welcome-back” dinner for her that evening, but with so much to handle after her return, Galatea decided to decline.
“Next week, when I officially start, I’ll treat everyone to a meal,” she promised.
Afterward, Galatea walked through the hospital, her eyes pausing in front of the maternity ward. She stood there for a moment, her thoughts distant, before she turned away.
As she walked toward the restroom, she unexpectedly collided with a young boy running down the hall. “Hey there, are you okay?” Galatea asked, but her voice faltered when she saw his face.
A familiar, unsettling feeling washed over her. The boy stared back at her with wide, confused eyes.
“Harry?” Galatea asked, her tone sharp. “Didn’t I tell you to go home with Mia? Who let you sneak after me to the hospital?”
But the boy wasn’t Harry. His clothes—a small suit and duckbill cap—seemed too nice to belong to him. As she looked at him more closely, she realized the boy was staring at her in confusion.
“My name’s Caspian,” he finally said, his voice hesitant.
Galatea blinked, her brow furrowing. “Caspian?”
Before she could process what was happening, an anxious voice called from down the hall. “Stop messing around, come out here!”
Caspian quickly clung to Galatea’s leg, saying, “I’m sorry, Mom! I won’t do it again—please take me away from the hospital.”
Galatea stood frozen, confused. Had this boy mistaken her for someone else? Her thoughts raced. What was going on?