Chapter 270: What does that make me?
A bitter, broken laugh escaped his lips. "Treated like an Allen?" he repeated slowly, his eyes wide and glassy. "So that’s it? You gave me everything but the one thing that mattered. You kept me close just to remind me I didn’t belong."
Elder Allen sighed, his shoulders drooping like the weight of old age had finally caught up with him. "It was not to mock you, Desmond. Your situation wasn’t a common one. My late wife found you. dressed and wrapped tightly in a blanket by the roadside. His eyes closed as the memories floated back like the tidal waves.
~Flashback, Years ago~
The morning sun slanted through the curtains, golden light spilling onto the polished floors of the Allen estate’s grand living room. A soft breeze whispered through the open window, carrying the scent of fresh dew and blooming lilies from the garden.
The front door creaked open gently.
In stepped a young woman, her skin glowing from the light sheen of sweat from her morning workout. Her ponytail swayed with each step, and in her arms, wrapped in a faded white cloth, she cradled a tiny baby—no more than six months old.
The child blinked sleepily, cheeks plump, lips parted, unaware of the silent storm waiting to unfold.
Maxwell Allen stepped out from the hallway dressed in a sharp pristine suit walking as he adjusted his cufflinks, stopping dead in his tracks as he laid eyes on the infant.
"Lucy?" he asked, brows furrowing, voice laced with confusion. "What’s that... who’s that?"
Lucy Allen turned toward her husband, Maxwell, his expression mixed with disbelief and tension. His eyes darted between the child and his wife. Her calm expression unsettled him.
"I found him," she said softly, gently bouncing the child in her arms as if instinctively calming him. "Along the roadside. Near the trail behind Oakridge."