Chapter 39: You parents are dead
The question hung in the air like a sword ready to fall. Jaenor felt his heart skip a beat, but Rosa spoke first. He was startled by how she found out about his birth.
"Why do you ask such a thing?" Rosa said, her voice thick with grief.
"Of course, he’s my son."
"Is he born from your body?" Morgana pressed.
"Or did you find him somewhere?"
Rosa looked at Jaenor, then back at the witch. Fresh tears started in her eyes. "I... I found him," she whispered.
Jaenor put his arm around his mother’s shoulders.
He had always known this moment might come. From the day he first opened his eyes in this world, he had known he was different.
Morgana noticed his indifference, and from that she could tell he was aware.
But what she didn’t know was that Jaenor wasn’t from his world.
In his old life, he had been a man in his thirties, working in an office in a world of cars and computers. He remembered dying—a heart attack at his desk, at his home, alone and forgotten. Then he had woken up as a baby, wrapped in strange cloth, with the mind of a grown man trapped in a tiny body.
He had kept this secret for years, thinking of it as a second chance at life. A chance to have a real family, to know love, to live in peace.